"It has been quite some time since the Golden King Elte left this world. Maybe it's time to also let go of the name 'Elte Trading Company'…"
This was the solemn declaration Slog made in the conference room when the entire story began.
Now the time had come to act upon that decision.
"The sun is just… too dazzling."
A voice that seemed on the verge of extinguishment at any moment spoke from the pale figure sitting at the conference table.
"Yes, well… in any case… the sun is meant to rise. The era of Elte Keheln has ended; it's time for the old ways to retire."
Slog closed his eyes tightly and whispered quietly as if it were a natural conclusion.
The next company head would be Lortelle Keheln. He spoke as if this was a matter of course, though his demeanor felt unnaturally calm.
This was in stark contrast to the desperate merchant who had once frantically struggled just to survive—shouting, cursing, and scheming, grasping at every opportunity to turn the tide.
In that soft voice, he slowly continued to speak.
"How much do you know, Ed Rothtaylor?"
"― That you never intended to become the head in the first place."
"I thought I hid it well, but your perceptions are sharp… Even managed to deceive that cunning fox Lortelle's eyes…"
Despite everything, Slog was a merchant who had survived decades in this ruthless world of Oldec. He knew better than anyone what end would meet those who rashly tangled with the influence of a prestigious noble family.
Yet he had pushed forward with this unbelievable plan, convincing his allies with the lie of having a non-existent "backer".
Despite the blood dripping steadily from his waist, Slog's eyes were wide open, and now a trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
"You seem to have many questions for me…"
The blood streamed down the conference table, eventually seeping into the floor.
The unsatisfactory elements of this entire affair were many. To dig out each one would take too long, and the clues were so scattered and messy it would not be easy to organize and make sense of it all.
Yet recalling the memory, there were quite a few instances.
"— Hmm… Honestly, this regression magic isn't very efficient. It requires too much preparation and conditions… You know the basics…"
Lucy's words when analyzing the regression curse that had been cast on Lortelle.
Why, with assassination or kidnapping within their means, did they choose such a lukewarm and inefficient method like a regression curse to subdue Lortelle?
"— Did he come here to provoke us? To travel this far just to say something that could have been done in writing…"
"— We would never hand over our senior, Lortelle. Slog knew it well enough, why on earth make such a far journey…"
Tanya's doubts when facing Slog, who came all the way to Rothtaylor's domain. Why did he personally come into enemy territory, provoking them as if he was declaring himself the enemy? It didn't seem there was a sufficiently compelling return for such a risky move.
Moreover, after arriving in Oldec. I had assigned Belle to guard Lortelle, yet Slog never attempted anything to secure her. Even knowing that Lortelle had been subdued, he didn't immediately pin embezzlement charges on her to close the case.
He should've moved as soon as he learned of her subjugation. Instead, he appeared to drag out the time, almost as if he was waiting for something.
And there were many other unnatural points that piled up, leaving me with these questions.
"There's just one thing I still can't figure out, why a great merchant of Oldec like you is acting like he's lost his mind. Why take such foolhardy risks?"
He had somewhat justified his reckless actions by implying that 'a huge entity was backing him', probably to ensure that his fellow merchants and his support base would not doubt his course of action.
Slog chuckled at my words.
"Well… I'm just… trying to close an era."
The sky above was vast and blue.
Still, he kept chuckling.
"The era of Golden King Elte Keheln has ended. I, who have served as his limb for over a decade, shall now bring the final curtain down on this stage."
"…"
"Tell Lortelle Keheln to take care of the factions that Elte left behind."
His low voice sounded almost like it belonged to someone else.
"Congratulate her on the arrival of her new era."
It seemed like all the pieces I had conjectured fell into place.
Before handing over the company to Lortelle, Slog Keldrucks had planned to clean house entirely.
He intended to gather all of Lortelle's opposition and the merchants plotting against her, lump them into his own faction, and then together plunge into hellfire.
The more dire the situation, the better. And the more desperate Lortelle's straits, the better for him.
As the crisis escalated, the more conclusively he intended Lortelle to turn against everyone and side with Slog.
All of them will stick their necks out.
"I never knew you cared so much for Lortelle."
"Keke… What a laugh. I've always detested girls so steeply submerged in money and toxic greed since childhood."
With a sharp intake of breath, slorg deeply exhaled and closed his eyes tightly.
"I've lived my life as a middle manager. My only job is to finish my tasks."
The decades it took for Golden King Elte to bring Lortelle into the merchant guild and raise her into a formidable merchant.
As Elte's trusted confidant, Slog must have been by his side, closely observing the clumsy Lortelle as she grew.
The journey of a girl from the slums, enduring and surviving under the ruthless merchant, emerging as a merchant in her own right.
Imbued with commercial knowledge under a father figure who was anything but, she desperately fought to retain her humanity.
Starting with nothing, the chronicle of the girl's struggle to survive… How did it appear in the eyes of the old merchant who survived under the Golden King?
It was impossible to grasp all of that… Such insights were known only to Slog.
As always, Slog, the middle manager, would have lived bowing his head, kneeling, fulfilling his role dutifully.
"Yes, I thought it was strange. The cautious and experienced noble heir, Ed Rothtaylor, when he came charging into the merchant building so flamboyantly and without a plan… I should have noticed."
Slog Keldrucks must have desired to fall from grace in the most majestic and grandiose way possible.
Only then, could he clearly and cleanly lead Lortelle's opposition down the cliff. This would secure greater legitimacy and justification for her consequent rule.
Hence, he called upon the Saintess.
He demolished the guild building where all Oldec citizens could see.
"I thought it would be a tedious paperwork battle, but to end it this neatly, the job's done truly thoroughly… Keheuk… Kough… Keke…"
Such a troublesome person.
The very fact that he wanted to keep it all as his personal secret till the end is preposterous.
"If he'd been upfront with Lortelle, none of this suffering would've been necessary. She would have cooperatively engaged with whatever was needed for her to take the chief's place."
"That's something you could only say because you don't understand this Elte guild."
Slog laughed loudly.
"Do you know the phrase that those within the Elte guild, from the lowest apprentices to the core executives, recite as if it's scripture?"
"…"
"The world…"
Slog slowly spoke while spilling blood.
― 'There's no such thing as a perfectly balanced beam scale in the world.'
For them, that's what human relationships are like.
To make you the chief, Lortelle, I shall fall after rallying the opposing forces. So remain inactive for now, so we can unify your opposition wholeheartedly.
Would Loreltell truly trust Slog and nod if he spoke like this?
"Merchants, they do live exhausting lives."
Decades of working without real trust for each other.
Always trying to curry favor but never seeking a true heart-to-heart.
Thus… the gap that has opened up will forever remain parallel.
That's why Slog acted unilaterally.
Pretending to support Persica while manipulating Durin Grecks to slander Lortelle.
He badmouthed her amongst the merchants, flaunting their antagonistic relationship.
Occasionally expressing a covetousness for the chief position, planting hints of a potential split within the guild.
Probable that upon seeing Lortelle push Elte Keheln out, he decided on his plan.
Then, the timeline of all the movements aligns perfectly.
The Elte guild, full of serpent-like merchants, becomes a pit of traitors ever-eager to exploit any opportunity if you let your guard down.
If one were to scheme something in such a place, one must be prepared to deceive everyone in the world.
The old fox, Slog Keldrucks, knew this all too well.
"You seem to have many questions…"
With a haggard state, Slog barely managed a smile.
"When will Lortelle's regressive curse be lifted?"
"Soon, the effect will wear off. One day she'll wake up and find it gone naturally."
"Why resort to such a bothersome curse…"
"Well…"
The voices of the crowd hailing the Saintess in the plaza before the guild reach them.
Listening to them, Slog closes his eyes peacefully and speaks.
"Just wondering what that kid looked like before she was tainted by the merchant way of life…"
Phuelan and Caldenheim burst into the basement storeroom Slog had mentioned.
The door they kicked open leads to naught but a dark, empty space. They were told this is where they'd find the means to subdue Ed Rothtaylor, but not a single object meets the eye.
In that instant, two men hidden in darkness grab Phuelan and Caldenheim's forearms, twisting them back and pinning them to the floor.
The men pressing down on the two allies of Slog… were mercenaries employed from outside the Elte guild.
The shaken merchants look back in trembling fear to see the woman directing the mercenaries.
Standing there was Lortelle's chief secretary… Lien Clemens.
Only then did they realize… they had fallen into a trap.