Chapter 73: The Nameless Image Management Company

The black marble table at the executive boardroom of Vance Commerce Headquarters gave a faint tremor as Lucian set down a fifty-page dragonhide-bound document.

On the cover, gilded lettering glowed with sharp arcane light.

'BRAND MANAGEMENT REGULATIONS, QUALITY STANDARDIZATION, AND LICENSING TERMS FOR THE NAMELESS KNIGHT IMAGE — CONTINENT-WIDE APPLICATION.'

Seated across from him were five Guild Masters, each representing one of Solaris's five largest manufacturing guilds: the Textile Guild, the Arcane Toy Guild, the Herbal Tea Guild, the Blacksmith Guild, and the Apothecary Guild.

The Textile Guild Chairman — a middle-aged noble in fur-trimmed velvet — flipped to page twelve of the document, his mustache twitching.

"Fifteen percent?! Boy... I mean, Young Master Vance! You're demanding fifteen percent of revenue on every black cloak, every wooden sword, and every bag of herbal tea sold across the entire Empire?!"

He slammed a hand on the table, voice full of indignation.

"The Nameless Knight is a symbol of courage, a shared spiritual treasure belonging to all of humanity! How can a single merchant family openly monopolize and tax a savior's ideal like this?!"

The other four Guild Masters nodded in agreement all at once, murmurs of protest rippling through the boardroom.

Lucian leaned back in his armchair, hands folded over his stomach.

He didn't draw a blade, didn't launch into a long explanation. He simply tilted his head, signaling to Sylvia.

Sylvia stepped forward and set two items down on the table: a rough black cloak, reeking of cheap chemical dye, and a wooden sword painted black, snapped in half, revealing a core of rusted iron nails.

Lucian pointed at the two items.

"Last week, at the southern market, a seven-year-old wearing this pirated cloak ran past a bakery. The chemical dye caught fire, and the house nearly burned to the ground before a passing knight patrol could put it out."

He tapped the broken wooden sword.

"Yesterday, two first-year students sparred using this pirated wooden sword. The rotten wood snapped in half, and a rusted iron nail flew straight into a student's eye. He's still in the infirmary."

Lucian looked up, meeting the eyes of the five silent Guild Masters.

"If you let the free market keep churning out low-quality garbage, within three months, the Nameless Knight's image in the public eye will become a symbol of house fires and blindness. And then no one will want to buy your souvenirs anymore."

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He slid the fifty-page contract across the table toward them.

"Vance Commerce isn't collecting fifteen percent to get rich. We're collecting it to fund a Quality Standards Board. Every certified product will carry a fire-resistant seal manufactured by House Wright's foundry, and be stamped with the Soul Mark [⭕] to prevent counterfeits."

Lucian took a leisurely sip of apple juice.

"If the world's gone mad for a black cloak, then it's our duty to sell them a black cloak that won't burn their house down. Pay the licensing fee, or leave the market."

The five Guild Masters exchanged glances.

The initial fury on their faces slowly gave way to astonishment. In the eyes of these seasoned merchants, a ten-year-old boy establishing a quality-control system to protect the integrity of a cultural symbol had transformed, instantly, into an act of deep humanitarian sacrifice.

The Textile Guild Chairman swallowed hard and reached for the quill.

"House Vance... truly the purest guardian of chivalric ideals. I'll sign!"

The remaining four Guild Masters scrambled to sign and stamp their names onto the licensing agreement.

Ting! Ting!

A dim black Unified System v2.0 notification exploded into view before Lucian.

['MERCHANT' CLASS LEVELED UP: LV.3!]

[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: 'BRAND MONOPOLY' LV.1!]

• Effect: Any commercial product carrying the [⭕] mark, certified by the Host, automatically gains +30% actual market trade value.
• Additional recurring passive income: +500,000 Clean Gold/month!

Click.

The boardroom door opened slightly.

Eleanor, in her Student Council President's uniform, stood leaning against the doorframe, golden hair loose over her shoulders. She'd been standing in the hallway, watching the entire negotiation unfold for the past fifteen minutes.

She watched the five veteran magnates bow their heads in gratitude to Lucian and hurry off clutching their contracts, shaking her head, a helpless smile tugging at her mouth.

"One flick of your finger, crushing five major guilds and pulling in half a million gold a month, and they still worship you as a saint protecting consumers... Your economic management skills would make the entire Royal Finance Minister resign in shame, classmate Vance."

Lucian pressed the jade seal firmly onto the last stack of paperwork and answered casually.

"If you can't stop the world's obsession, the next best thing is to tax it. What brings you here? Come to confiscate more sausages?"

Eleanor walked toward the table, the smile on her face fading slowly.

She pulled a scroll of parchment, sealed with the Sacred Court's black wax, out from beneath her coat and set it down gently in front of him.

"Not about food. An urgent dispatch just came in from the western border."

Lucian picked up the scroll and cut the wax seal open.

Eleanor's blue eyes stayed fixed on him, each word carrying the icy weight of a political crisis.

"An underground group calling itself the Order of the Ashen Knight — fanatics who refuse to buy licensed goods and refuse to obey the law — just carried out a bloody assassination against the Grand Earl of the West."

Eleanor paused for a beat, her voice dropping.

"Before slitting the victim's throat, they left a hollow-circle symbol [⭕] carved into the wall, and declared... they acted according to the true teachings of the Nameless Knight."