“Is that enough, though?” Elysian asked, skeptical of the woman’s rationale. “I’m a noble, and I’ve seen enough rich b*stards to know what they wanted. I know full well that lust is not enough of a motivator to lure these men to this bleak and wretched place.”

“Bleak and wretched?”Helene questioned, glancing at him and raising a brow before chuckling. “You know that your family owns this bleak and wretched place, right? What do you think it says about you?” she asked as the two of them stared at each other. “I didn’t mean any disrespect, my lord,” she added, though it was clear in her tone that she wasn’t sorry for it.

“Yeah, I agree, it’s my family's fault—my fault,” Elysian muttered, conceding by turning his eyes away first and glancing back at the Velvet Chambers again.

“It’s not your fault. You’re just a kid; what can you even do?” Helene said, observing the boy before looking in front.

‘Well, if you only knew.’

“I will agree, though, that this place has seen much better days,” Helene stated, sighing and accepting the fact. “And you’re right that lust alone isn’t enough to lure those fat, rich men.”

“Then what lured them there and milked them?”

“Milk them,” Helene repeated, giving a hearty laugh. “Well, it’s simple—the young miss, Lady Amara.”

“Amara?”

“Yes, that girl is brilliant, brilliant, I say,” Helene’s voice was loud and booming, with an expression and smile blazing like the sun. “I’ve seen her grow up into a fine lady and transform the Velvet Chamber into what it is now. She seemed to have a sense of what men are like, what entices them, luring them into that velvet halls until they’re dry. I’m not really sure how she does it. From what I know, not everyone could be a member of the Velvet Chamber. You can’t buy an entry with money. Only those who are already members can refer others to be patrons.”

‘Scarcity and exclusivity. Ah, what a smart woman! Amara, indeed, knows her trade well. She knew that offering beautiful women was not enough to make the Velvet Chamber stand out. I now understand how she became successful in the past.’

Turning his attention to the middle-aged woman, Elysian asked, “Does Amara also own the Silver Feast?”

“Huh, what… What do you mean?” Helene asked, taken aback by the sudden question. She hesitated for the briefest of moments before her practice smile was plastered on her face again. “I own the Silver Feast, my lord. My family has run it for generations. Everyone knows this. You can ask anyone here, and they will tell you the same thing.”

“Of course, madam, of course,” Elysian muttered, chuckling as he walked towards the Silver Feast. “Let’s go. My two companions are hungry already. Seeing your fine restaurant, I’m getting hungry also.”

As Helene led them to the third floor, Elysian's eyes were immediately drawn to the view beyond the window. The poverty-stricken streets of Ironspire stretched out below, a stark reminder of the city's struggles. But it was what lay beyond that truly captured his attention.

There, dominating the western horizon, stood the Everpeak Mountains—a sight that stole the breath from Elysian's lungs.

Towering monoliths of stone and ice, the Everpeaks pierced the sky like the jagged teeth of some primordial giant. Their snow-capped peaks disappeared into the clouds, hinting at heights beyond mortal reckoning. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across their faces, creating a chiaroscuro of light and darkness that emphasized every crag and crevice.

At their base, dense forests of ancient pines cloaked the lower slopes in a sea of deep green, gradually giving way to bare rock and permanent snowfields higher up. Glaciers, blue-white and eternal, clung to the mountainsides, their slow, inexorable movement having carved the landscape over millennia.

The sheer scale of the Everpeaks was humbling. They made the sprawling city of Ironspire seem like a child's toy village in comparison. These were mountains that didn't just occupy space—they defined it, warped it, and demanded that the very world conform to their presence.

As Elysian gazed upon them, he felt something stir deep within his soul. It was as if the mountains were calling to him, speaking in a language older than words, older than humanity itself. They evoked a feeling both familiar and alien, a sense of belonging mixed with an aching, unnameable longing.

In his past life, the image of these mountains had stayed with him when all else faded, haunting his dreams with their majestic, immovable presence. Now, seeing them again in the flesh, Elysian felt tears welling in his eyes. The Everpeaks stood as they always had: proud, indomitable, and eternal. They were more than just a symbol of Northcrest; they were the very essence of it, embodying the unyielding spirit of its people.

“Isn’t that majestic and terrifying?” Osric asked, looking at the endless mountains. “Urzug-Khul, the mighty mountains of the Ancient—pillars of Creation.”

“Urzug-Khul,” Elysian softly muttered, glancing at the older boy. Considering him for a moment before adding, “Are you perhaps…”

Stolen story; please report.

“Durin-Dar. I’m one of the ‘people,’” Osric said, his tone indicating that he was proud of his heritage. Turning to the noble, he smiled and added, “Well, my father is. I’m just half, but their blood still runs through my veins.”

“I should’ve guessed. With the name ‘Osric,’ it should have been obvious,” Elysian muttered, nodding his head as if it made sense now.

“Well, it isn’t really surprising or some big revelation,” Osric said, chuckling. “Ironspire bordered Grimwold. Even before your family ruled Ironspire, people on each side had long been associated. Even with the constant skirmish, this connection has not diminished. You can easily say that a large portion of the populations from Ironspire to Blackwall have the ‘peoples’ blood in it.”

“That makes sense,” Elysian said, nodding in agreement. “Do the people also call the Great Forest, Grimwold?”

Shaking his head, Osric laughed and responded, “No. Of course not. This is the name that you, from the plains call it. The people call the Great Forest—Kor’Morul.”

“Kor’Morul.”

“Yes. It means the domain of the deep and mysterious forest.”

“Kor’Morul,” Elysian repeated, nodding his head. “What about the Everpeak Mountains? Hmm… You called it Urzug-Kul earlier, right?”

“Yes, it means ancient, unending and permanent mountains,” Osric stated, glancing back at the great mountains. “The people are afraid to go there. I’ve heard that it is the land of the dead and spirit.”

“Really?”

“Well, it’s just their belief. It’s not really true.”

“How do you know?” Elysian asked, raising his brow, even though he already knew the answer.

“Many people have gone there. Like in Grimwold, it is dangerous, so no one can really go deeper into it, but as far as I know, no one saw any dead or spirits there.”

“Well, they might be hiding,” Bran suddenly inserted himself, looking at the mountains with fear in his eyes. “As you know ghosts are good at hiding themselves.”

Both Elysian and Osric just shook their heads and sighed.

“Sorry for the wait, my lord,” Helene said, smiling at them as her staff carried a variety of food. All of them looked delicious. “Here is the food you’ve ordered. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“Thank you.”

Helene nodded before following her staff, leaving them with their food.

Looking at Bran, Elysian saw the servant’s mouth watering as he stared hungrily at the food. Chuckling at the face of the older boy, he said, “What are you waiting for, big fella? Dig in!”

Without needing to be told a second time, Bran hungrily jumped onto the food and ravaged it like a hungry beast.

Elysian just chuckled, smiling at the scene. When Osric followed suit, the young noble was also about to begin his meal when Amara and Nina entered the room.

“Young master,” Amara bowed respectfully, smiling at him.

‘Damn, good timing.’

Elysian nodded back, his smile strained a little. “Amara, good to see you. Hmm… Do you want to eat? I can ask Helene for another plate…”

“It’s alright, young master. We’ve already eaten,” Amara said, glancing at his two companions, who stopped eating, smiling and waving at her. She waved back at them. “Hello, Bran and Osric. It’s nice to see you too.”

After a brief chat, the two boys returned to their meal as they ravaged the food while the noble just silently observed his two friends.

“Hmm… maybe we should come back after you’ve eaten, young master?”

“No, I prefer that we talk now. I know that you are quite a busy person, my lady, so it’s better that we deal with this,” Elysian said, gesturing ahead. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Both women nodded and sat. “Thank you. Hmm… I think it’s inappropriate to call me ‘my lady,’ young master. With my profession, I’m no such lady.”

“What’s wrong with your profession?” Elysian asked, raising a brow. “I only see a businesswoman before me, and a savvy one at that?”

Amara looked at the boy, considering him. “What do you mean, young master? I’m just the lowly owner of a brothel on this poor side of Ironspire.”

“I beg to disagree, my lady. Though I’m young, I’m not blind,” Elysian remarked, chuckling as he took a bite from a pie. “Wow, this is delicious. Are you sure you don’t want one?”

“No, young master. Thank you.”

“Of course, I bet you already know how good this is since you own this fine establishment,” Elysian muttered, enjoying another bite of the pie.

“I don’t own the Silver Feast, young master,” Amara said, her voice even and calm. “I believe you already met Helene earlier. She is the real owner of this business. Everyone knows this.”

“Ah, of course, of course. I don’t know the reason why you’re hiding it, but whatever. I won’t pry,” Elysian muttered as he nonchalantly continued eating before turning serious, and glancing back at her. “By the way, are you alright?”

Amara froze for a moment, taken aback by the sudden change of subject to a more serious and personal one. Seeing the genuine compassion in the noble’s eyes, however, immediately eased her heart. “I’m not, young master. I’m still in pain, like it was that night. It hasn't eased one bit. The only thing I can do right now is to keep myself busy.”

“Good, good. You should keep yourself busy. That’s the only thing you can do at the moment,” Elysian said, nodding his head. “I was happy that I got a call from you. It just means that you’re doing better than I originally thought.”

“I can’t be weak. I have people to feed and protect after all,” Amara stated with resolve in her voice.

“The living have to live.”

“The living have to live,” Amara repeated, nodding her head in agreement. “You’re right, young master. I must continue to live, no matter how painful it is. This is what Layla would want.”

‘It’s good to see she’s doing better than I expected. She is indeed a strong woman. If I were in her place, I would still be devastated, to the point that I’d be lying on my bed, on the verge of collapse. Sigh.’

“By the way, if there is anything you need, you can always call on me,” Elysian said, looking her in the eyes. “With what we went through together, I consider you a friend.”

“Thank you, young master. I’m glad that you consider me a friend. I also want to be friends with you. I know that I might be unworthy of such regard, but I can’t walk away from such an honor.”

“Honest and decisive,” Elysian muttered, laughing. “This is why I said you’re a savvy businesswoman, my lady. You saw an opportunity, and you grabbed it,” he said, nodding his head, grinning. “I really like to be friends with smart people.”

Amara stared at the boy straight in the eyes, smiling like a devious fox. “I also like to be friends with smart people, young master,” she responded as their laughter filled the room.

Bran and Osric glanced at the two, observing them and seeing how they were alike. Looking at each other, they just shook their heads before they continued their feast.