Ardentis Empire, Capital City.
Today was the final, crescendo day of the annual three-day Spring Festival.
The city was alive in a way it never was the rest of the year.
Every main street overflowed with people shoulder to shoulder, laughter and shouting blending with songs and the clatter of coins. Colorful banners hung from rooftops, flower garlands draped across stone arches, and the air smelled of roasted meat, sweet wine, and fresh bread.
Merchants lined the streets in endless rows.
"Half price!"
"Last day only!"
"Buy one, take another for free!"
Some stalls had gone even further, throwing goods into the crowd just to draw attention. And honestly? Who could resist an event like this?
But this festival wasn’t just for the citizens.
For merchants and businessmen, today was everything.
Because tonight, someone would be crowned.
As the King or Queen of Commerce.
The title carried no crown of gold, yet its weight surpassed most noble honors, granting special benefits for its owner.
Near one of the crowded crossroads, three figures stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the sea of stalls and banners.
"Who do you think is gonna win?" One of them asked, eyes darting between the bustling shops.
The man beside him snorted. "Isn’t it obvious? The Nedici Family. They’ve taken the crown three years in a row, last year included."
"True," the first replied slowly, rubbing his chin. "But... I think this year, the crown might get stolen."
"Stolen?" The second turned sharply. "By who?"
The first looked at him like he’d asked something absurd. "Seriously? You don’t know?" He lowered his voice slightly, though the noise of the crowd swallowed it anyway. "I’m talking about the Legacy Emporium."
"...Ah." The second man stiffened. "Right. Now that you mention it... I’m not so sure about my choice anymore."
A third person joined in, a woman who had been quietly listening while holding a bag overflowing with purchases.
"I know, right?" she said. "If this were a few years ago, no one would’ve dared imagine a new business competing with imperial-rank merchant houses, let alone in just a single year."
She gestured broadly at the streets. "But the Legacy Emporium proved otherwise. Under their founder’s brilliant schemes, they carved out a foothold in this hellish market."
"They even won Best New Business thingy last year, too, didn’t they?" the first man added.
"Yeah. And that was after only three months after their opening," she replied. "But let’s be honest, they didn’t win just because they were new. It was their tactics."
She counted on her fingers.
"Buy-one-get-one-free. Limited-time flash sales. Public raffles for big-ticket items. Price-matching guarantees. Even refund promises if customers weren’t satisfied."
The second man let out a low whistle. "Dangerous moves. Any one of those could’ve ruined them."
"Exactly," she said. "But they didn’t just survive, they thrived!"
The first man laughed, lifting a freshly bought skewer. "And thanks to them, we get this."
He gestured around.
"You’re right," the second agreed. "Before, most ’discounts’ were what, ten percent? Maybe fifteen if the merchant was feeling generous." He shook his head. "Stingy as hell."
"But look at it now," the woman said, smiling as the crowd cheered everywhere on the street. "This festival’s never been this good."
The other two nodded in agreement.
"Then, shall we take a look at it ourselves?" the woman added with a smile, glancing toward the grand plaza. Servants were already at work there, laying out a long velvet path that led up to an elevated stage.
The two men exchanged looks.
"...Won’t we be late for the dorm?" one of them muttered.
"Yeah," the other added. "You know how strict the curfew is."
"Tsk." The woman crossed her arms and gave them an unimpressed look. "Are you serious?" She leaned forward slightly, feigning offense. "I, a weak young woman , am not afraid. And what, are you really going to leave me alone? Here? In this dangerous city?"
"...."
The two fell silent.
’W-Weak? You?’ Both thought the same thing simultaneously.
They exchanged another glance, equally speechless.
With a shared sigh, they gave in.
"Alright," one of them said. "But you’re the one doing the explaining later if we get caught."
"Hehe." She giggled, already turning away. "That much, I can handle."
Without waiting for another word, she led the two reluctant followers through the festive throng, moving with surprising agility toward the heart of the capital.
The crowd grew denser, the air more charged, as they neared the central plaza.
It was no longer just a marketplace; it had been transformed into an amphitheater of commerce. Raised viewing stands for nobles and guild members lined the edges, and a wide stage dominated the far end.
At its center, on a violet silk pillow, rested the Spring Crown.
It was a delicate, masterful circlet woven from silver vines and enchanted jade blossoms that would never wilt.
In fact, it was a Legacy Grade relic with amazing effects. Rumours said it amplified the wearer’s luck in trade, sharpened their intuition for profitable deals, and bestowed a subtle aura of trustworthy authority. For a merchant, it was a weapon, a shield, and a key to the city’s vaults all in one.
And tonight, it would be placed upon the head of the merchant who had demonstrated the most outstanding results over the past year: in trade volume, innovation, public benefit, and contribution to the empire’s economy.
The winner would be crowned Spring’s Patron.
The unofficial King or Queen of Commerce for the year to come.
All eyes, and a growing murmur of confusion, were fixed on the curtained private booths flanking the stage. The Nedici family patriarch was already in his, a smug, familiar silhouette against the lamplight. Representatives from other major houses were filing into theirs.
But the booth at the far left, marked with the sigil of a rising phoenix over a coin, the symbol of the Legacy Emporium, remained dark.
The curtain was drawn shut.
Cassandra Von Virellia, the founder who had turned the entire market on its head in a single year, the woman everyone had come to see either crowned or humiliated...
...was nowhere to be seen.
"Ahem. Please, pay attention, everyone."
The master of ceremonies approached the center of the stage, clearing his throat.
The crowd’s festive noise began to dampen into an anxious buzz.
The ceremony was about to start, and yet, the main contender was missing.
"Let us welcome," the master’s voice boomed, cutting through the uncertainty, "the esteemed patron of this festival and the arbiter of its highest honor — His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Leomord, to the stage for the opening address!"