Chapter 469.5 - Interlude Devon 6
Here is Chapter 503 of "Low-Fantasy Occultist": Devon watched the carriage carrying Xander disappear down the road, kicking up a trail of... Don’t miss it!
Devon watched the carriage carrying Xander disappear down the road, kicking up a trail of dust. His Master was finally heading back to Alluria, leaving Devon alone in Floria while things in the city calmed down.He exhaled, rolling his shoulders to ease the sudden tension settling over him.
With Nick gone on his mad quest and their father at war, Devon was the highest-ranking Crowley left in the city. Technically, the weight of the Barony rested squarely on his shoulders, though his mother seemed more than capable of handling the day-to-day duties.
A gentle hand slipped into the crook of his arm. Sonya offered him a warm, reassuring smile. She wore an elegant yellow dress suited to the brisk morning air, her hair pinned up in a practical yet beautiful style.
"He will be fine, Devon," Sonya said softly. “Whatever the situation in Alluria, the Grandmaster will handle it.”
She didn’t say anything about their possible return, though, and he kept his lips sealed as well. That was a can of worms he wasn’t eager to open, and until it became urgent, he would be content to stay away from it.
"I know," Devon agreed, patting her hand. There was very little that could threaten his mentor, and he was more worried about his brother and father than about the old man, even if he was walking into a den of vipers. "Come on. Let's take a walk through town. I need to see how the new market districts are settling in after all the changes.”
They turned away from the gates and strolled toward the central plaza. As had become the norm, Floria was bustling with activity. The northern conflict had driven a steady stream of refugees southward, swelling the town's population. While many still lived in the tent city outside the walls, recent events had ensured that integration had resumed with a vengeance.
There was much labor to be had, with the number of buildings being erected, and with it came coin to spend.
As such, the local economy was booming. Trade from the Green Ocean was back to its all-time highs after the momentary dip caused by the Valerius debacle, and everywhere he looked, he could see people haggling, trading, or buying goods made from its wealth.
Devon guided Sonya smoothly through the crowded streets. He nodded to the passing guards and stopped frequently to chat with the captains and local merchants. At each interaction, he made sure to introduce Sonya as his intended. He kept her at his side, projecting a unified front.
The citizens offered their congratulations, their faces brightening at the sight of the young heir committing to a stable future. Devon listened to their concerns about grain supplies and housing, promising swift resolutions in a reassuring tone.
"You are getting very good at that," Sonya noted as they stepped away from the grateful baker.
"My father always said politics is mostly about making people feel heard," Devon replied with a grin. "Plus, showing you off is the easiest job I have.”
A blush dusted Sonya's cheeks, and she squeezed his arm.
They made their way into the budding merchant quarter, the area that had once hosted the market days, which had now been relocated to the eastern districts.
With the Valerius Conglomerate ousted from the town, several smaller consortia had rushed to fill the economic void, as evidenced by the shiny new storefronts. It felt a bit strange to see his childhood haunts so changed, but time always brought about new things, and this was much better than the alternative.
Devon led Sonya into a newly established, high-end boutique run by a merchant tied to the Polliver-Bollivers.
The man, who introduced himself as Ippo, practically tripped over himself to greet the Heir of Floria, offering spiced tea and displaying his finest imported silks.
Devon played the role of the wealthy aristocrat, perusing his wares and eventually settling on a beautiful embroidered scarf for Sonya, whom he had seen glance at more than once.
“Is this a unique piece, or will you receive more?” he asked mildly, even as the man produced a fancy parchment to wrap the purchase.
Once, even the wrapping would have been a rare sight in Floria and could have been sold on its own for good coin. Now it was just a sideshow to the actual purchases.
“We have been trying to establish contacts with the local producers, but while the silk harvested from the forest is of high quality, the quantity is still not enough to make it anything more than an occasional thing,” Ippo replied. His eyes were fixed on the wrapping, but Devon had become good enough at reading people’s intent to know the merchant had realized why he was asking.
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“I see. I know Oakenhollow has some quality silk farms, so you might be able to get some from there to supplement local production,” he said.
Ippo looked up, searching, then gave a slight nod. “Thank you for the counsel, my lord. I shall send an inquiry.”
That was good. In time, the trade route with the rest of the kingdom would be sufficient to supply them with all sorts of raw materials, but if possible, he wanted local production to be the main source.
Satisfied with the answer, Devon paid for the scarf, vanished it into his spatial pouch, and escorted Sonya out of the boutique.
Unfortunately, trouble found them shortly after.
A young blonde woman, whom he recognized as Clara, spotted him from across the street, and he had to suppress his instinctive flinch. Her eyes welled with tears, and she rushed over, clasping her hands together.
“Oh, I knew you were back!” she cried out in happiness. “I told those hags you wouldn’t forget the wonderful summer evenings we spent together!”
As she spoke loudly enough for several people to turn and look at them, she adjusted her dress, showing off the ample bosom that had once drawn him to her.
Given that he barely remembered the girl beyond that one detail, he would usually have charmed her with a couple of sweet words before sending her off. That was not to be.
Devon froze, feeling the sudden shift in air pressure radiating from the woman standing beside him.
“Clara, I am happy to see you in good health,” he said, ignoring the nails digging into his arm with a strained smile. “May I introduce you to my intended, Lady Sonya? She has been kind enough to accompany me as I attend to my duties as heir.”
Predictably, Clara froze, eyeing the young Maid with disbelief.
It was well known in Floria that Devon was something of a heartbreaker. That anyone could have tied him down would be known within an hour.
“Well, it was nice to see you,” he gritted as the nails dug in deeper. “I’m sorry to say we have to continue on, though. I wish you all the best!”
Clara sniffled, gave Sonya one last wide-eyed look, then hurried into the crowd.
"Wonderful summer evenings?" Sonya asked. Her voice was perfectly mild, but it carried an undertone that made Devon want to draw his sword and seek cover.
"I was very young and very foolish," he swore, sweating bullets. "And I have eyes only for you now.”
Sonya hummed, a sound completely devoid of amusement, though she did loosen her grip a bit. Considering that his physical stats were several times hers, Devon had no idea how she’d managed to leave a mark on his skin, much less cause pain, but he decided he didn’t want to know.
Ten minutes later, a striking brunette named Emetta bumped directly into Devon’s chest, a move that had to be deliberate. She batted her eyelashes, completely ignoring Sonya's presence.
“Oh my, Lord Devon!” she exclaimed, tracing a finger lightly over his lapel. “How wonderful to see you back! I was just about to buy a new dress for the harvest festival. I hope to see you there. I’m sure you’ll like it!”
Sonya’s grip on Devon’s arm tightened with enough force to bruise, and he could sense her intent sharpen. If he didn’t act quickly, Emetta would be bitch-slapped into next Sunday.
Devon stepped back smoothly, creating immediate distance. “Thank you for the welcome, Emetta. I do believe I shall attend. After all, I need to show off my intended, Lady Sonya, for the world to see.”
Fortunately, that seemed to do the trick. Emetta huffed, crossing her arms, and stalked off toward the tavern district.
Devon wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Negotiating with ambitious merchants was easy. Navigating the ghosts of his playboy past while his fiancée stood beside him required the tactical genius of a master general.
Seeking refuge from the crowded thoroughfares, Devon led them toward a quieter, sunlit plaza near Crowley Manor’s walls.
Lounging on a warm stone bench was Talbot.
The blue spirit cat lay stretched out, soaking up the midday sun. To passing civilians, Talbot was just a lazy, overfed pet of the Crowley family, and sometimes they even set out bowls of water or food for him to gorge on, feeding the delusion.
Staring at the feline, Devon could feel the coiled power radiating from the creature. Though he didn’t have his brother’s keen senses, he could tell that Talbot easily rivaled high-level monsters in the Green Ocean.
Devon bought a skewer of fried river fish from a nearby cart and approached the bench respectfully. He set the offering near the cat's paws.
Talbot cracked open one iridescent eye. After deeming the offering acceptable, he snagged the fish, chewed slowly, and stared at Devon, meowing.
Though he couldn’t understand how his brother managed to converse with the beast, Devon could read its intent fairly easily after being trained by Xander for so long. It was one of those abilities the System didn’t acknowledge, yet it could set a Knight apart from their nominal peers, and he’d trained it as diligently as his combat abilities.
"Keep an eye on the south tonight, Talbot," Devon requested, speaking to the cat as an equal. “I heard there was another group of refugees who came in, and the guards are stretched thin.”
Talbot let out a long, drawn-out yawn, signaling how utterly bored he was with the task. Still, he gave a single, lazy flick of his tail, sending a wave of calm assurance.
Devon nodded in thanks.
Sonya covered her mouth, giggling softly as several people looked at them in confusion. "Devon, you are having a very serious discussion with a cat.”
"That cat could probably slaughter a mercenary company," Devon muttered, leading her away from the bench, drawing a surprised noise.
They resumed their walk, heading toward the residential districts. Surprisingly, they soon crossed paths with Arthur. The old man was examining a crate of apples, accompanied by a girl who looked about Devon’s age but whom he didn’t recognize.
Considering how he’d made it a life mission to know every attractive girl in town before leaving, that was saying something. But his memory helped, reminding him of Nick’s retelling of being trained in lightning magic by the adventurer and of how he’d been kept away from the man’s granddaughter despite the agreement to teach him.
"Young Devon," Arthur greeted, inclining his head. It was perhaps not the most respectful gesture, but this man had protected Floria for decades, so he could be afforded such familiarity. "Enjoying the market?”
"Very much, not the least of which because of the lovely company," Devon replied, gesturing toward Sonya.
"Allow me to introduce my granddaughter, Rose,” Arthur said, gesturing toward the young woman. “You might not have met her yet, despite her living with me for the past few years.”
Devon looked at Rose, and his warrior instincts flared instantly.
He noticed the thick calluses on the webbing of her thumbs, the perfectly balanced center of gravity in her stance, and the sharp way her eyes tracked the crowd's movements. There was little doubt in his mind that she was a highly skilled swordswoman, likely at the upper-middle levels.
Devon peered closer, staring intently at her shoulders, assessing her muscle tension and the subtle way her hand hovered near her hip, where a blade would naturally rest. He was mentally mapping her footwork, fascinated by the discipline she displayed even when relaxed.
A sharp elbow jabbed directly into his ribs.
He coughed, snapping out of his analysis. Sonya was smiling radiantly at Rose, though her eyes promised Devon a world of pain.
"It is wonderful to meet you, Rose," Sonya said sweetly. "Devon is just easily distracted today. He seems to have a habit of running into beautiful women this morning.”
Devon sputtered, trying to explain that he had just been taken by her aura, which did not help his case. It created enough chaos for him to almost miss the way Arthur’s eyes went dark and flinty for a moment before his expression smoothed out. Almost.