Chapter 410: Everything

Their next meeting was less dishonest and considerably more useful. The broker, an older woman named Elira, had worked in Capital property for more than thirty years and apparently saw no reason to flatter Sage.

She reviewed his requirements, looked at him as though he had asked to purchase the Royal Palace, then spent several minutes explaining why almost nothing currently available satisfied them.

"You’re asking for four things that rarely exist together," she said, turning the map toward him. "Large connected land, major-road access, room for expansion and clean ownership. Any property with the first three usually lost the fourth generations ago. Capital land accumulates rights. Roads, leases, hereditary claims, access agreements, development restrictions. The older the district, the worse it becomes."

Sage appreciated someone finally speaking plainly. "And if I move farther out?"

"You gain land and lose access. Move inward and you gain access but lose space. If you want both, you pay."

"How much?"

Elira smiled slightly. "Enough that you’ve already rejected most of the people willing to sell to you."

Boren sighed from the other side of the table. "I liked you better before that sentence."

The woman ignored him and studied Sage instead. "Your organization is impressive in Evergreen, Guildmaster, but the Capital is different. There are organizations here whose headquarters were built before your grandparents’ grandparents were born. They own entire streets because their founders bought the land when those streets were fields. You can’t reproduce that position in a few weeks simply because you have money."

Sage wasn’t offended.

She was right.

The Adventurer Guild had become enormous in Evergreen with almost absurd speed, but that success could easily create the illusion that every city would unfold the same way.

The Guild was still C-Rank. Its branches covered one Region. Nearly all of its reputation, membership, infrastructure and political influence had been built inside Evergreen.

Meanwhile, some organizations in the Royal Capital had spent centuries acquiring property and connections one generation at a time.

Sage had the System, money and a model he knewworked, but none of those things changed the fact that he was entering their city as a newcomer.

That realization didn’t diminish what he’d built.

It showed him how much farther there was to go.

Elira eventually presented a property that came closer than anything Sage had seen so far.

It occupied a broad section between the Central Trade District and the outer edge of the Warrior District, with direct access to two major roads and enough land to support a substantial headquarters.

Several old buildings could be demolished without difficulty, and the neighboring properties were mostly commercial rather than residential.

The asking price, sixty-four million gold coins, was painful but not absurd considering the location. Even Pax found no immediate problem with the valuation.

Sage spent nearly two hours inspecting it.

For the first time since the search began, he could actually imagine the Guild operating there.

Adventurers could reach the Warrior District easily. Merchants could access the property without dragging cargo through narrow residential streets.

The Central Trade Districtwas close enough to attract business, and the main avenue connected eventually to two Capital gates.

Boren stopped complaining long enough to admit the location was excellent, while Mina had already begun deciding where the restaurant should go despite Sage reminding her that they hadn’t bought anything.

Then Pax found the clause.

The document was buried inside a collection of older property records rather than the current sale contract.

The estate had originally belonged to a noble family nearly eighty years ago. When portions were sold, one of the Capital’s Great Houses retained hereditary development rights over several parcels in the area.

The current owner possessed the buildings and could legally sell them, but any major structural redevelopment beyond existing boundaries required approval from an estate office controlled by that House.

Worse, the agreement contained provisions allowing the House to challenge certain changes in land use.

Sage read the document twice.

The broker standing nearby shifted uneasily. "It’s an old agreement. In practice, approvalis usually a formality."

"Usually?"

The broker smiled weakly. "Most owners submit their construction plans, pay the administrative fees and receive authorization."

"And if the House refuses?" Sage asked.

The broker hesitated. "There are appeal procedures."

"How long?" Sage asked.

"It depends."

Sage handed the document back to Pax. "We’re leaving."

The broker blinked. "Guildmaster, you’re refusing because of a clause? You’ve been searching for days. This property meets nearly everything you requested, and the House has no reason to interfere with your organization."

"Today."

The man frowned. "Excuse me?"

"They have no reason to interfere today." Sage looked across the property once more, then shook his head. "I’m not spending sixty-four million gold coins to build the Kingdom Headquarters on land another man can threaten to take away."

"They can’t simply take it."

"They can delay construction. Challenge redevelopment. Refuse expansion. Turn a routine approval into leverage if our relationship changes. That’s enough."

The broker opened his mouth, but Sage had already made the decision. He didn’t care whether the Great House currently liked the Adventurer Guild, disliked it or had never heard his name.

Building the Kingdom Headquarters beneath another organization’s permanent legal authority would be planting a knife over his own neck and hoping nobody ever decided to use it.

By the time they returned to the hotel that evening, Sage had reduced his requirements to four lines on a sheet of paper.

Permanent ownership. Expansion space. Major-road access. Political independence.

Boren stood behind him reading over his shoulder. "You forgot affordable."

"Apparently that’s no longer realistic."

"At least write it down so we can pretend."

Sage added nothing.

For the next several days, the search continued. Properties came close, but none satisfied all four requirements.

One had excellent road access but no room to expand. Another offered clean ownership and plenty of land but sat too far from the districts Sage needed.

A church-controlled estate came with restrictions on commercial activity. A former military storage compound couldn’t be permanently sold because the Crown retained wartime reclamation rights.

Two large merchant properties would require Sage to purchase a public access corridor separately, and the owner of that corridor had already discovered who wanted it and tripled his price.

The more Sage searched, the clearer the pattern became. The Capital wasn’t simply expensive. It was already claimed.

Every good piece of land had history attached to it.

Every road had interests around it.

Every old estate carried agreements written decades before Sage was born.

Every desirable district had people who intended to remain there.

On the sixth evening, Sage returned to his hotel room, dropped another stack of rejected property documents onto the desk and stared at the Capital map with growing irritation.

Mina had fallen asleep on one of the chairs while waiting for dinner, and Boren had disappeared downstairs after declaring that property hunting was damaging his appetite and therefore required immediate treatment.

Pax remained near the window, unusually quiet.

Sage noticed.

Over the past week he’d learned that Pax’s silences had different meanings. Sometimes the man was thinking.

Sometimes he didn’t know enough to answer. Sometimes he knew something and hadn’t decided whether it was worth saying.

This was the third kind.

Sage leaned back in his chair. "What?"

Pax turned from the window. "I’ve been checking properties that aren’t actively listed for sale."

"Anything useful?"

"There is one place."

Sage straightened slightly. The hesitation in Pax’s voice was impossible to miss, and after nearly a week of discovering hidden clauses, impossible prices, noble claims and terrible locations, Sage had developed a healthy distrust of anything introduced that carefully.

"What’s wrong with it?"

Pax looked at him.

"Everything."