Chapter Sixteen: The Merchant of Black Gold

Every self-contained society has its own commercial system, and the demons are no exception. The Culiskayn Trading Guild is an organization dedicated to serving the demonfolk; from royalty to commoners, nearly everyone is their client. In fact, Zayen was well aware that this guild played a significant and unique role in the Demon King’s Rite.

After all, the demon realm exists in the subspace, while the Underdark is located on the prime material plane. If anyone wanted to purchase some rare demon merchandise without the trouble of opening a spatial portal, they would inevitably have to rely on this guild.

More than once, even the equipment for the monsters in the Demon King’s dungeon, or the monsters themselves, were acquired or hired through the Culiskayn Trading Guild from the demon realm.

As the Demon King’s son, Zayen was naturally one of their clients as well. However, he seldom dealt with the Culiskayn Guild—frankly, they were just too greedy.

There was a saying in the demon realm: When you get intimate with a woman from the Culiskayn Guild, she will meticulously keep track of your every move, moaning with “fiery passion”… Fifty gold coins for entering, fifty for leaving… Five hundred extra if you finish inside; if you do it outside, the price varies by position, with discounts possible…

Though somewhat exaggerated, the tale spoke volumes about the guild’s nature.

Back in the demon realm, Zayen rarely had dealings with them; as an unfavored royal offspring, he had little disposable wealth to begin with. He certainly couldn’t squander it on frivolities. Besides, the Culiskayn Guild’s grandiose claims hardly impressed someone who had, in his previous life, read “Das Kapital.” Their little tricks were not about to fool him.

So, as far as Zayen was concerned, the Culiskayn Guild almost always left empty-handed. On the rare occasions he did buy something, he would haggle the price down so low that they barely made a profit.

Yet, ironically, this brought unexpected trouble—namely, Clarisse.

She was the head of a branch of the Culiskayn Guild, a member of the Culiskayn family, and a high demon. Because the guild always failed to make a profit off Zayen, Clarisse became quite curious about him. She would often seek him out under the pretense of “promoting merchandise,” determined to conquer this “iron miser.” It drove Zayen mad: imagine a young woman showing up at your door every day, like a door-to-door saleswoman, asking, “Have you heard about Amway?”

Who could endure that?

When Zayen was cast into the Underdark to begin the succession ritual for the Demon King, he had assumed that his ill-fated connection with Clarisse was finally severed. To his surprise, she had even come here to promote herself to him!

Would this never end?

“I am a merchant. Naturally, I’m here to conduct business,” Clarisse replied, still wearing her characteristically warm and enthusiastic smile—after ten years of trying to sell to Zayen, she was long accustomed to his indifference and was not at all discouraged.

“I told you, I have no money,” Zayen said, spreading his hands and fixing his gaze on Clarisse before him. “As you can see, my dungeon is small and poor. I can’t afford to buy anything, not even at a discount. I remember telling you before—time is money, Miss Clarisse. You should go look for other potential customers.”

“Your Highness is quite right—time is money. That’s something we at the Culiskayn Guild have always believed in. In fact, it’s become our motto, a constant reminder of our creed,” Clarisse replied brightly.

Isn’t your creed simply ‘everything’s for sale if the price is right’?

Zayen grumbled inwardly, but outwardly he remained silent. He knew that Clarisse was the type to press an advantage at the slightest opening; if he said anything more, she might entangle him further. So he kept still, waiting to see what she was really after.

Clarisse was unfazed, standing there with her professional smile as she continued, “Today, I haven’t come to sell you anything, Your Highness. Rather, your two sisters have entrusted me with a message for you… Ah, by the way, Miss Enoia, I have the latest B-cup auto-growth lingerie from the demon realm—just 998 gold coins! Even the flattest-chested undead can boast an impressive figure, and if you buy now, you get a free padded insert…”

“Get to the point.”

Noticing Enoia clenching her fist, Zayen hurriedly cut Clarisse off. If this woman didn’t shut up, Enoia would probably start swinging in another moment. Was she here to do business or to cause trouble?

“Very well, Your Highness,” Clarisse said, narrowing her eyes and glancing at Enoia with pursed lips. The loyal adjutant showed no reaction, simply maintaining her usual pleasant smile by Zayen’s side, as if she hadn’t heard a word. Seeing this, Clarisse shrugged, then, like a magician, extended her gloved right hand. She clenched and opened her fist, and suddenly, where there had been nothing, a pitch-black object resembling a river stone appeared in her palm.

A message stone?

Zayen’s brow rose at the sight. The message stone was a highly secretive means of communication among the higher demons—a message could be condensed into a physical object, which would only reveal its contents before a designated recipient. To anyone else, it was just a rock.

Clarisse placed the message stone on the desk and smiled, standing by. Zayen made no move to send her away, but instead reached out and pressed his hand to the black stone. The stone began to tremble, and soon a lively, whirlwind-bright voice rang out.

“Hey, Third Brother? Still alive? It’s Vivian! If you can hear me, it means you made it. How’s it going? Is your dungeon working out? If it isn’t, just come to Vivian. Smashing goblin skulls here every day is getting boring. I hear the humans up top react in really funny ways—I can’t wait to mess with them. Their screams and panic have to be more entertaining than those underground creeps. Just like in those stories you used to tell me… what were they called… dragon riders? Do those really exist here? Vivian’s so curious! Anyway, enough chatter—if you can’t make it, come find me. With Vivian watching your back, none of those losers—Big Brother, Second Sister, Fifth Sister—will dare give you trouble!”

With that, the black stone shattered with a crisp snap. Clarisse stepped forward again, producing a sky-blue crystal as if from thin air and placing it on the desk. Soon, another voice, gentle as a spring, airy and ethereal, dispelled the lingering echoes of the first.

“Ah… It’s been a while, dear brother. This is Nabelius. I hope you’ve been well? Is the construction of your dungeon going smoothly? All is well on my end, please don’t worry. The building proceeds methodically, and clearing out the subterranean tribes has proven easy, with no real danger. I’ve tried communicating with those adorable little pets as much as possible, but had little success—regrettably, I had to clear them all out. I wonder what the surface humans are like? I hope they’ll be a bit easier to talk to. I really do like obedient, cute pets. By the way, my dungeon is at the Gorge of No Return. If you have time, brother, stop by for some tea—I so enjoyed your stories about the humans.”

As Nabelius’s voice faded, the study fell silent once more. After a moment, Clarisse broke the stillness.

“Princess Vivian and Princess Nabelius are both remarkable children, highly anticipated in this year’s ceremony. I’m sure they will take root on the surface and remind the people and the divine envoys of the demons’ might.”

“I quite agree,” Zayen replied coolly, withdrawing his hand and adjusting his glasses. Clarisse continued, undisturbed.

“In fact, before I set out, Their Highnesses instructed me that if I found you in a wretched state, I was to knock you unconscious and bring you to them. Honestly, I wondered what I would do if that situation arose—which side to choose.”

“If you value your life, you’re better off steering clear of them,” Zayen said coldly.

“Rest assured, Your Highness. At the Culiskayn Guild, the customer always comes first—we never cause our clients any distress.”

“Your very presence is distressing enough. Now that your business is concluded, you may leave.”

“The princesses asked me to report on your condition, and seeing you so spirited puts my mind at ease…” Clarisse bowed once more, beginning to withdraw. After a few steps, she seemed to remember something and looked up.

“…If I may ask, would you consider selling us that dark elf or the gnome? You know, female gnomes and half-blood dark elves are in high demand in the demon realm. I can guarantee a handsome price, and we could split the profit fifty-fifty…”

“I happen to enjoy women, wealth, and power. You wouldn’t want to deprive me of my simple pleasures, would you?” Zayen snorted. He knew exactly what Clarisse was after; she was clearly well informed about his dungeon. If Vivian and Nabelius offered her enough reward, she’d sell all his secrets to them—and he was sure they’d pay without hesitation.

“Of course not, it’s just a suggestion.” Clarisse smiled again, producing a small talisman and setting it on the desk. “But times have changed. Let me repeat, Your Highness: the Culiskayn Guild has always been the royal family’s strongest pillar. Especially now, our support is more important than ever. If you wish, we can provide you with ten maids at the lowest price, to assist in your dungeon. I guarantee they are young, beautiful, virginal, and highly skilled. They’ll be invaluable helpers in construction and maintenance, day and night—your most loyal companions and assistants. Only 33,333 gold coins for three centuries of service from ten lovely maids—a rare opportunity. If you’re interested… you know how to find me.”

Once more, the shadows twisted. In the next instant, formless black flames sprang from the ground and enveloped Clarisse. In an eye-blink, the girl vanished without a trace.

Only then did Zayen snort, relaxing back in his chair.

“That woman is relentless. I can’t believe she’s still hounding me even here…”

“I think there’s more to it than that…” Enoia murmured, pausing as she glanced at the talisman on the desk. “Master, are you truly not considering Miss Clarisse’s offer?”

Zayen frowned, silent for a moment, then sighed quietly. “Let me think about it…”

Then, he added, “After all, managing ten at once would be quite the challenge for me.”