The capital had always been a city of grand illusions. Wealth draped its streets like golden veils, hiding the cutthroat nature of those who ruled it. Lyrasia had always known merchants wielded power, but she never expected that power to rival kings.
After barely escaping the auction with her life, she learned a chilling truth—this city wasn’t run by the noble houses alone. No, the true war in the capital wasn’t fought with swords or soldiers. It was fought with trade deals, monopolies, and financial sabotage. And she had unwittingly placed herself in the middle of it all.
The noble houses depended on the taxes from merchant guilds to maintain their rule. The Merchant Guilds, however, were not content being mere pawns in the royal court’s games. They wanted their independence, their wealth untouchable. The struggle between them was silent but deadly. And now, Lyrasia was caught in their crossfire.
She first realized the extent of her trouble when she saw the notice plastered outside a bustling trade hall:
"WARNING: UNSANCTIONED TRADE WILL BE PUNISHED BY LAW. ALL TRANSACTIONS MUST BE APPROVED BY THE MERCHANT GUILD."
A shiver ran down her spine. The guild didn’t just regulate trade—it controlled it. And by participating in the auction without their oversight, she had already made enemies.
A hand clamped onto her shoulder, and she nearly spun around with a knife, only to see an unfamiliar man in dark merchant’s robes. He grinned. "You’re quite bold, walking around so openly. You do realize the guild has eyes everywhere, yes?"
Lyrasia narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"
"An interested party. Someone who thinks you might just be foolish enough to survive." He leaned in. "And someone who knows Lord Aelius Varian still has plans for you."
Lyrasia’s stomach twisted. Of course, Varian wasn’t done with her. He was one of the strongest players in this war. If he couldn’t own her, he’d eliminate her before she became a threat.
The man continued, "You have two choices. Run and hope you escape his grasp, or build something powerful enough that not even he can touch you."
Lyrasia frowned. "And what do you suggest?"
He chuckled. "Simple. Form your own guild."
The words sent a shock through her. A merchant guild of her own? It was insane. It was impossible. She had no resources, no backing, no influence. Yet, deep inside, she knew it might be her only chance.
"If I did," she said carefully, "what would I need?"
The man held up three fingers. "A powerful backer. A trade monopoly. And the ability to survive the assassins who will come for you."
Lyrasia exhaled slowly. One week. That’s how long she had before Varian crushed her.
DAY ONE: FINDING A BACKER
The only way to gain protection in the capital was to have someone with enough influence to vouch for her. A noble house or a merchant lord would do, but convincing one was another matter entirely.
She spent the day gathering information, eavesdropping in markets, and slipping into taverns where traders gossiped freely after a few drinks. Eventually, she found a name—Duke Hadrian Vales, a noble who despised Varian and had his own ambitions for trade. If anyone would support her just to spite Varian, it was him.
Gaining an audience was a challenge, but after some persistence (and a well-placed bribe), she found herself standing in his estate.
The Duke regarded her with mild amusement. "You? A girl with no guild, no wealth, and no name, expect my support?"
"I expect a deal," she corrected. "You want Varian’s empire to weaken. I want protection. Help me establish my guild, and I’ll ensure that a portion of its profits flow your way."
He leaned back, intrigued. "You have ambition. But ambition is nothing without proof."
She grinned. "Then watch."
DAY THREE: CREATING A MONOPOLY
If she wanted her own guild, she needed something that no other merchant could offer. Something unique.
Then she remembered the drought-controlling artifact from the auction. She hadn’t won it, but she now knew such things existed. She also knew where she could find one.
The Underground Market.
Slipping into the shadows once more, she sought out the artifact’s previous owner—a desperate noble who had lost everything in a gamble. He still had connections to similar items, but he wouldn’t part with them easily.
"I need a guarantee," he said. "If I give you information on another artifact, what do I get?"
"Your debts cleared," she replied smoothly. "Join my guild, and I’ll ensure your finances recover."
His laughter was bitter. "You can’t possibly promise that."
Lyrasia smiled. "No, but I can make Varian regret ever letting me slip through his fingers. And if I rise, those who helped me rise with me."
A pause. Then, slowly, he nodded.
DAY SIX: SURVIVING THE ASSASSINS
She expected an attack. It came sooner than she thought.
A shadow slipped into her rented room that night. A blade gleamed in the moonlight. Lyrasia barely rolled out of the way in time.
Her attacker was fast. Trained. A professional.
She grabbed a glass bottle and smashed it against the figure’s face, buying herself a second to grab her dagger.
They fought. Furniture broke. Blood splattered.
In the end, she stood over the assassin’s unconscious body, panting.
Her system chimed.
[SEVENTH MISSION: Survive the Merchant’s War!]
[Objective: Eliminate the assassin threat before dawn.]
[Reward: +10 Combat Instinct, Unlock ’Silver Tongue’ Perk.]
[Time Limit: 6 Hours]
"Of course," she muttered. "Because fighting for my life wasn’t hard enough."
DAY SEVEN: THE DAWN OF A NEW GUILD
By the time the sun rose, the assassin was dealt with, her trade monopoly secured, and Duke Hadrian convinced.
The paperwork was signed. Stamped. Sealed.
She had done it.
The Silver Veil Merchant Guild was born.
As she sat in her new office—a small but promising space in the capital—Lyrasia exhaled. The war wasn’t over. If anything, it had just begun.
But for the first time, she wasn’t just a pawn.
She was a player.