I strolled through the castle and found the great study, and I entered without a care.
It was a small yet fitting room, filled with shelves of books, a small brown wooden desk in the center, and several unfinished files scattered across its surface.
I sat down at the desk and looked outside the window, then leaned back with a long sigh as magicae filled my lungs.
It had been three days since I came back from the trial, and my power had surged without error.
Of course I had still yet to break past a certain wall, but my cultivation was greatly improved.
My skin lacked flaws, and my body had become toned and defined.
The only thing left was to dull this lingering illness.
Despite that blaring fact, I had other matters to attend. I looked through the files and took a deep breath.
This was all to construct the system for hunting monsters, and we had already decided on a name.
Guild. That would be the name of the company.
Guild would focus mainly on hunting monsters.
However, they would also handle other tasks for weaker hunters, allowing them access to foundational funding.
This foundational funding would go partially to the government and, by admission, to me.
Of course that part was added in later, but hopefully, with funding constantly coming in and out, we would gain profit.
However, it did not truly matter, because even then, it would still place far less strain on the royal funds.
As I wrote through the many different files, signing them off and making small additions, midday finally arrived.
And like clockwork, Mirabel finished her duties and came directly to the study.
She burst through the door and smiled as she leaned over the desk.
"Nicky, are you done yet?" she asked in a happy tone.
I looked up, ink staining my fingertips. "Does it look like it?"
She thought for a moment. "You know that if I say you're done, you're done regardless."
I couldn't argue against those words. Damn her and her beautiful tongue, body, and heart!
"I need to focus. Malachi snuck in some other things to build upon, like confirming some weaponry funding, among other things."
She nodded and picked up an already signed paper. "Nicole has picked her personal guard."
That was right. It was custom for the queen's candidate to become the guard of the crown prince, and vice versa for princesses.
Of course all royals needed guards. Nicole was not excluded, not now at least.
"That's good. She's growing. At the very least."
She chuckled. "Now we just need to focus on your growth, the hateful thing it is."
I looked up, offended. "Hateful? My growth is all loving."
She leaned in and kissed my forehead. "Yes, yes, you are loving. So loving."
Was she being sarcastic? I genuinely couldn't tell. Damn this unreadable woman.
"Ignoring that, have you decided on what date we will start?"
She nodded. "Tomorrow. I will start cultivating you, and breaking down your shackles."
I rubbed my neck and sighed. "Alright. I'll prepare."
I looked back down at the files and sighed again. "This is terrible. Way too much."
Mirabel laughed and jumped onto the desk as I began to write.
"Just ignore me," she said happily. "Just this once, I'll watch you suffer."
I shook my head in defeat. "How cruel."
For the royal funds and our budget, it was quite large. We had a vast amount of land, a sizable populace, and a steady flow of produce.
Because of that, we fished, produced weaponry, and offered various monster hides and materials.
All together, purely from selling to other nations, we earned nearly ten billion coins every month.
And adding taxes along with that, the total came out to around twenty percent higher.
We spent around three billion a month, and that was if nothing unpredictable occurred.
In short, we were rich, but that still was not enough, because this war would remove a major trade partner.
So we needed to set up a new system to earn even more money, disregarding Guild.
I had decided that speaking with Camelot would be the best option. Recently, trade had been cut off.
Nothing significant happened regarding hospitality.
It was simply that when my father died, I had not renewed our agreement.
I was currently looking at it.
It contained some amazing deals, including their offer to pay for travel across the sea.
Camelot was on the eastern continent and was the only kingdom on that continent.
Though the eastern continent was smaller than the central one, it was still quite large, and in many ways they were in our favor.
However, what we offered in return was quite jarring.
It was simply people. We sent them those who wished to live there.
Maybe a hundred, but as long as it was more than one, they paid us regardless.
I signed it, ignoring the strange implications, because while that was the main "product," we could still sell them other things.
I was about to flip through some more documents, but Mirabel tapped the desk.
Her voice came out next.
"Satire is here," she said blankly.
I flinched at that name once more. Could I handle seeing her? No. Even more importantly, could I hold back my killing intent?
I sighed and stood up. "Alright, let's go greet our guest."
I did not waste time changing my outfit. Instead, I wore the traditional clothing of my nation.
Loose-fitting yet compact garments rested against my skin, and I carried my sword across my back at an angle rather than at my side.
As I trudged through the halls, Mirabel gripped my hand. She did not know why I was afraid. She simply felt it.
We made our way to the throne room and sat down beside each other.
The thrones changed places every so often, and today she was on my right.
She wore the same style of clothing as me.
While mine was black and white, hers was red and black, a sharp contrast that suited her.
Our quiet moment did not last long. Soon after, the knights marched in, forming a uniform line as St. Satire entered.
She was annoyingly beautiful, and even I had to admit that much.
Her hair was a bright, nearly glowing white, almost silver when it caught the light.
Her eyes were almond-shaped and silver, her lips soft and pink, her skin pale like snow.
Contrary to what Griffin wore, her armor was different. Saints were gifted unique armor, sacred and irreplaceable.
Griffin wore the original gear purely out of spite.
Satire's armor was silver, carrying the golden lamb upon her chest. She held a long, thin sword.
It resembled a rapier, yet something in its make made that impossible. Even so, it was undeniably a fast blade.
When she bowed, her short curly hair bounced lightly.
"I greet the darkness that shall prevail over light, Nicholas Anstalionah."
When I raised my hand, her head lifted. She smiled softly. "Do you all miss me?"
I kept my bloodlust sealed within my Inner World.
The Inner World was the place that held the full extent of one's power, one's strength, a temple of sanctity.
It was also where aura came from.
My aura manipulation was likely the best in the world, so restraining myself was manageable.
Mirabel spoke for me. "We do. We definitely do. However, I must ask, what brings you here?"
When Satire met my eyes, a vision flashed.
I saw her driving her blade through Nicole's chest.
I clenched my fist as she began to speak. "Simple. I came to warn you of the demons nearby."
I nearly coughed at that.
That was not what had happened previously. Had I changed it?
No. I was certain.
My effect on time could not have been that grand. Unless…
Unless I had rewritten all of Time.
Could I truly be that strong?
Or perhaps she simply noticed. For Satire carried a name, one that chilled even the most arrogant.
She was the Saint of Time. A bearer of one of the most unique traits in existence.
She could freely control time.