No one knew where the Wandering Merchants came from. One day, they might appear in a bustling royal capital; the next, in a sleepy village at the edge of civilization. They seemed to slip into human society at random, sometimes vanishing for years, only to reappear as if nothing had happened. Wherever they appeared, a miracle followed. The Wandering Merchants sold the rarest of artifacts—wondrous things you couldn’t find anywhere else. There were legendary items that most people considered mere myth; artifacts that even the greatest nobles and adventurers could only dream of; materials from ages past, their secrets long since lost to history. And somehow, the Merchants sold them for a price that, compared to their true value, was almost laughably small. Ketal himself had received the artifact pouch he relied on from a Wandering Merchant—a bag the size of a small room, capable of holding just about anything. Such a thing was priceless in any other market. Now, that very same Wandering Merchant had arrived in the capital of the Denian Kingdom. It took Milayna several moments to calm herself before she could speak. “Yes... The Wandering Merchant appeared just a few hours ago. I immediately sent my staff to queue up in line for me.” “Impressive. You’re well prepared,” Ketal replied with a chuckle. “Would you like to go see?” Milayna asked him. “Of course,” Ketal answered immediately, eyes bright with curiosity. The Wandering Merchants were enigmatic beings who appeared out of nowhere and traded in every imaginable thing. Since Ketal first heard of them, he had always hoped for a chance to see one in person. There was no way he’d let this opportunity slip by. Also, Ketal had another reason in mind. The Wandering Merchant is said to trade in all things, Ketal reminded himself. Perhaps they have something that could grant me Myst... or something even more extraordinary. His excitement mounting, Ketal followed Milayna out of the building. What greeted him was a sight unlike anything he’d ever seen. A line stretched out before them—so long it seemed to run across the entire city square, then snake around the far side of the plaza and disappear down a neighboring street. Women and men, children and elders, nobles in finery and commoners in rags—everyone, it seemed, had come to try their luck with the Wandering Merchant. It looked as though the entire population of the capital had gathered here. Ketal whistled in amazement. “All of that for the Merchant?” Milayna nodded, her face pale. “Yes. I expected there to be a line, but I didn’t think it would be this long.” The Wandering Merchant was legendary for selling precious artifacts at affordable prices. It was all upside—no one ever seemed to lose out on the deal. Everyone wanted to trade, and of course, that meant the line would be long. Guards were working up a sweat as they tried to maintain order. “All right! Stay in line! No cutting!” “Anyone who tries to sneak in will be punished!” The queue was so massive that it blocked traffic throughout the square. Normally, city officials might have broken up such a crowd, but here, they simply worked to keep order rather than disperse it. Ketal, curious, asked, “Is there some kind of rule about this? Why don’t they just break up the line?” Milayna nodded. “You’re not allowed to interfere with anyone who’s trying to trade with the Wandering Merchant.” “Is that a formal rule?” Ketal pressed. “Yes. The Merchant trades fairly, without regard for status or wealth. No one is allowed to interfere from the outside. If anyone tries to control the process or disrupt the queue, the Merchant vanishes without a trace.” “So that’s why the guards don’t get involved, except to keep things peaceful.” Ketal glanced back at the endless line. He could only marvel at the sight. The sheer length of the queue was daunting. “If the line’s this long, it could take forever... Do we actually have to wait? The Wandering Merchant can’t possibly stick around for everyone, can they?” Milayna smiled. “It’s all right. I’ve already sent several of my people to stand in line for us.” Ketal blinked in surprise. “You can have someone hold your place?” “The Merchant doesn’t mind,” Milayna replied. “Hiring people to wait is just another kind of ability, as far as they’re concerned.” Ketal laughed at the notion. “Even queuing is a matter of skill, huh?” He peered toward the front of the line. Somewhere up ahead, the Wandering Merchant was doing business—a being shrouded in mystery, the source of countless legends. Milayna could see the anticipation in Ketal’s eyes. “Shall we get closer?” “Of course!” Ketal agreed, barely restraining his eagerness. By now, Milayna had a fair sense of Ketal’s personality and knew better than to stand on ceremony. She led the way through the crowd toward the head of the line, where a hulking figure stood with his arms folded, watching over the proceedings—a familiar presence. Ketal’s eyes lit up. “Maximus! Is that you?” “Barbarian...” Maximus’s face twitched with a mixture of recognition and wariness. “I heard you were in town. You’re here for the Merchant, too, I see.” “That’s right. Good to see you again, Maximus,” Ketal greeted him. “How have you been?” “Well enough. What about you?” “I’ve had a good run of things,” Ketal replied cheerfully. This update ıs available on 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵✶𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮✶𝓷𝓮𝓽 For once, there was no trace of scorn or rivalry in Maximus’s tone. The tension between them from their first meeting was gone. “So... That must be the Merchant, right?” Ketal said, turning his gaze to the very front. There, a figure was negotiating with the next person in line. However, this was no ordinary person. Clad from head to toe in a spotless white robe, the Wandering Merchant’s entire form was obscured. Strange ornaments and arcane devices hovered around them, whirring and ticking, each one etched with esoteric runes. Through a gap in the robe, Ketal glimpsed a pair of eyes—flickering, flame-like, as if they were tiny candle flames burning in darkness. It was immediately clear that this being was not human. “How does the trading work?” Ketal wondered aloud. His question was answered almost immediately. A mercenary at the front of the line stepped forward and shouted boldly, “O Wandering Merchant! Grant me a weapon that can cut anything!” With that, he produced a handful of gold coins and held them out. Ketal glanced at Milayna. “How much is that worth?” She sized up the pile. “Enough for a simple iron weapon. Not nearly enough for what he’s asking.” For a moment, the Merchant was silent, their candle-flame eyes flickering as they regarded the coins. “Insufficient...” The words rang out, not from a mouth, but as if echoing through the mind—strange, dreamlike. “The value is not enough...” The mercenary’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. However, just as he was about to leave, the Wandering Merchant’s voice resonated once more. “You cannot have a weapon that cuts anything... But you can have a weapon that cuts many things...” With that, one of the floating devices beside the Merchant clicked, and a ripple of space opened up. With a clatter, a sword dropped at the mercenary’s feet. It was a sharp, ornately decorated blade—far more valuable than anything he could have bought with his offering. “Take it...,” the Merchant said. The mercenary stared in disbelief, then hastily traded his gold for the sword, barely managing to bow before hurrying off in delight. Ketal watched, intrigued. “So that’s how it works...” “He’ll be able to sell that sword for many times what he paid for it,” Milayna observed. “Luck was on his side.” “Can people trade more than once?” Milayna shook her head. “Only one trade per person. That’s an absolute rule. No loopholes—no matter how clever you are, you can’t use proxies or tricks to get around it.” “Is that really enforceable?” Ketal asked her, raising an eyebrow. “Apparently the Wandering Merchant can read the intent behind every trade,” Milayna explained. “No trick has ever worked—not even hiring people to buy on your behalf.” Ketal grinned, imagining Milayna, the head of a major merchant clan, trying to work around the rules. “If anyone could break the system, it’d be you.” She sighed, admitting, “If it were possible, I would have bought out their entire stock long ago.” Meanwhile, trading continued at the front of the line. People would approach, offer what they had, and state what they wanted. Some sought weapons, others asked for food or jewels, and the Merchant would always find something in their endless inventory to fulfill the deal—so long as the value was fair. “So they really can provide anything?” Ketal mused. “I’ve never seen them refuse a request outright,” Milayna replied, her gaze distant. “Whatever the price, they seem to have something to offer.” Ketal found himself pondering. “Does it have to be a physical trade?” Most people offered tangible goods—gold, gems, treasures. But at his question, Milayna shook her head. “No. The Merchant accepts... other kinds of value. Things you wouldn’t think could be traded.” Before she could say more, it was the turn of a young boy—poorly dressed, face streaked with dirt, empty-handed except for hope. He trembled as he stepped forward. “Please, I want medicine to cure my mother!” “What is the offer...,” the Wandering Merchant said. “I’ll give you anything!” the boy cried. The Merchant fell silent as they stared at him, those candle-flame eyes flickering. After a long pause, the Merchant spoke. “Give me your sense of taste. I will give you the medicine.” “Then, stick out your tongue...” The boy obeyed. One of the Merchant’s devices floated over and brushed his tongue. “Ah...” A strange look passed over the boy’s face, as if he’d lost something he’d always taken for granted. “Here...” The Merchant handed over a small vial. The boy accepted it reverently. “Thank you!” the boy shouted, accepting the vial reverently. He ran off into the crowd. Ketal stroked his chin, fascinated. “So even taste can be traded.” “Anything of value, if the Merchant deems it worthy,” Milayna said softly. “Who can say what value really means, to a being like that?” Next up was a nobleman, elegant and arrogant. He strode forward, voice booming. “I want you to kill all my enemies!” Ketal’s eyes glimmered with interest. “Maximus, aren’t you going to stop this?” If the man’s enemies were other nobles, a massacre could devastate the kingdom’s leadership. However, Maximus looked bored. “It won’t work. That kind of deal is impossible.” “Insufficient value...” The Merchant’s reply was cold. “I’ll pay anything—take all my treasures!” the nobleman insisted. “Still not enough. Stake your life on it...” “My—my life?” The nobleman recoiled. “That’s ridiculous! Why should I risk my life? Take my fortune instead!” “It is not equal. Unless you stake your own life, there is no deal.” “T-then take my servants’ lives!” “No. It must be yours.” “Forget it! I’d never make such a trade!” With a huff, the nobleman stormed off—but the Merchant offered him a vial of poison as a consolation. Maximus frowned. “I’ll have to keep an eye on that one...” “Trading for lives comes at a steep cost, it seems,” Ketal mused. “Life for life. That’s the principle,” Milayna said. “It’s common knowledge, actually.” The Merchant was not as arbitrary as they seemed. Every transaction was governed by rules—clear, if not always understandable. Ketal watched in growing fascination. “What happens if someone tries to force a deal?” he asked Milayna. Milayna started to answer, but at that moment, a man’s voice rang out. “I want to make a deal!” he shouted. Milayna’s expression darkened. “I know that man. He owed my family a fortune—lost it all to gambling, then lost his title to me.” The man bellowed, “Make the Diablos family shine again! I’ll give you my future as payment!” “Impossible...” The Merchant’s pronouncement was final. “Why not?” the man protested. “First, your price is not nearly enough. And besides... the Diablos family is no longer yours.” It was true—Milayna had claimed everything he owned. “You have lost the right to ask. Choose something else,” the Merchant said. “Don’t be ridiculous! I am still the head of my family!” “No, you have lost your claim. Choose something else.” The man’s face twisted in rage. In a flash, he drew his sword and brandished it menacingly. “Shut up and trade with me! Now!” The Merchant’s device flicked forward with frightening speed. Before anyone could react, the man was seized—then simply vanished, swallowed up by the device, leaving nothing behind but a startled silence. Milayna shook her head. “That’s what happens if you try to use force. You just... disappear, never to be seen again.” Ketal let out a low whistle. “Good to know. I’ll remember that.” He gazed at the Merchant, white-robed and flame-eyed—a being both alien and enigmatic. And yet, as Ketal watched, he felt a flicker of something unexpected. ...Huh? Ketal wondered. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it at first, but as he focused on the Merchant, realization dawned. It was a sense of kinship—a strange feeling of similarity. It didn’t make sense. The Wandering Merchant traveled the entire world, dealing in all things, while Ketal had once been confined to the White Snowfield, a stranger to everyone but his own kind. There was no reason they should resemble each other in any way—yet somehow, they did. However, before Ketal could dwell on it further, Milayna spoke up. “You’ll be making a trade too, right, Ketal?” He nodded. “Of course.” The Wandering Merchant was known for trading in anything and everything. Ketal had always known exactly what he wanted to ask for. “I’ll make arrangements for you to step forward,” Milayna promised. “Since I had so many staff in line, we’ll be up soon.” “Thank you,” Ketal said, grinning. Milayna turned to Maximus. “Do you want to make a deal too?” “I do...,” Maximus answered quietly. With the recent incident still fresh in everyone’s mind, the remaining people in line grew somber and quiet. The crowd thinned rapidly as the queue moved forward at a brisk pace. The day passed, and finally—after a full turn of the sun—it was their turn at last.