City of Desire: Chapter 809 Brocks Brasserie (Patreon)

Proofread by Thomas F

The carriage stopped on the bustling cobblestone street, and I stepped out of it.

In front of me is a two-story building with arched windows and bronze lanterns, which are lit, even during the afternoon. It brings a certain charm to the building, shrouded in the colorful mist.

I could see the signboard with the menu written on it with chalk, and people dining and drinking at the tables outside.

One could even see the inside through the crystal glass of the windows.

It feels casual yet refined, with uniformed waiters serving the patrons with speed and grace.

This is Brocks Brasserie, the only legacy in the city of Owlspring.

I stared at it for a few seconds and walked toward it. People looked at me, some even recognized me. I recognized a few and nodded as I walked toward the door.

As I had just reached it, a man in his early fifties came out. He is a large man with broad shoulders and an enviable jaw. He has dark brown hair and a beard that suits him quite well.

“Lord Silver, thank you for gracing my humble establishment,” greeted the man.

“It’s very humble, Lord Berison,” I replied. Making the man laugh.

The legacies could never be humble— even the most unassuming of establishments will lose its humbleness when it becomes a legacy.

“Come, let me show you my establishment and introduce you to some people,” he said, and we walked inside.

The legacy was filled with people, and not a single seat was empty. There are long tables and small tables, with people sitting crowded together.

Most of them are wealthy individuals who would never sit in such a crowded place, but in a legacy, they will do so happily.

I turned to the long bar of polished bronze and enchantment where a couple of bartenders were working with grace and experience.

I looked at it before closing my eyes for a moment and feeling its power.

Every legacy is distinct, and I could feel its vision. I could also feel the power of its master. It is a pawn to a Grade IV throne.

It is due to this that he was able to construct the upper floor above the legacy. He does not have an expansion skill. The throne does.

I felt eyes on me, and I nodded at a few familiar people before he took me to the floor above.

Soon, we reached the top floor and he opened the door. I walked inside and saw the room filled with people, all of whom turned toward me.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Lord Silver, Lord of Velvet Garden,” announced Berison.

“I can see you have invited a lot of familiar people, Lord Berison,” I said, and the man laughed. “A lot of people wanted to meet you,” he replied.

I could see a lot of familiar people: a few merchant lords, merchants, alchemists, and many other people.

I have met many of them, but there are some I have not. Berison had given me this excellent opportunity to meet all these people.

He led me inside, and soon we stopped in front of a man in his early forties. He is someone I know.

“Lord Silver, this is Lord Garlin Luthwen, the heir of the Luthwen Salon,” he introduced. Luthwen Salon is a Grade IV legacy, master of Brock’s Brasserie.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Lord Silver,” said the man. “It is a pleasure, Lord Luthwen,” I replied with a smile.

“How is Lady Yalta?” I asked about his mother, the master of Luthwen Salon.

“She is great and has been asking when you are going to throw the party to celebrate the advancement of Velvet Garden,” he replied.

I could feel the ears turning toward us. I have not thrown the party for the legacy’s advancement.

I did throw the party of victory in the war against the undead and the conquest of Gailhorn, but not of the advancement.

“I will after I finish reconstruction of the legacy,” I replied—for the first time, admitting openly that the legacy had expanded.

People may already assume it, but assuming it and knowing it are two completely different things.

Here, I had confirmed it.

I have been waiting for such an opportunity. Here are important people with powerful connections; they will spread the news far and wide, before dawn the next day.

“I hope that is not far off?” he asked, and I smiled.

It’s going to take time, which is the reason why I am focused so much on Vanis’s Tavern. Once it is completed, I will start work on the Velvet Garden.

I will begin it before that, but I will close the legacy down only after the Tavern reopens.

I spoke with him for a minute more and then moved on to another person. He is one alchemist, and the one who recently moved to Inam.

Lord of Inam has been able to poach him from Tisar. He is doing that with a lot of people.

The emotion essence I am providing him is greater than what the Brasserie gives him. I am also giving his alchemists numerous orders.

That made him poach alchemists from other states and kingdoms.

My own alchemist has begun crafting the emotion essence potions, but they have not yet reached Grade IV.

I also didn’t have the required scale, which I am working hard on building. However, until then, I depend on merchant states, with Owlspring being one of the biggest beneficiaries.

Soon, Berison walked away while I started to mingle on my own.

I had just finished talking with one of the merchant lords when a familiar green-haired half-elf appeared in front of me.

“Lord Silver,” he greeted. “Alchemist Aryveson,” I replied. It has been a while since I saw him.

The first time I saw him was when I delivered the emotional essence to him, which nearly got stolen outside his store.

Instead of expressing even a hint of regret. That man even said it would have been my fault if that had happened.

“It’s been a while, Lord Silver,” he said. “It has been, Alchemist Aryveson,” I replied. The old man and I felt the privacy covering us.

“Are you still angry with me about that incident, Lord Silver?” he asked. I would have played a fool, but there is no need to do that.

“Of course, not. Alchemist Aryveson,” I replied, and I am not.

“When you came that time, I was going through a bad week. The recipe I had been working on was failing repeatedly, wasting a lot of resources.”

“I was stressed and conveyed some of that on you,” he explained without apologizing.

He didn’t seem like he was in a bad mood; his mood had only become bad when I had pointed out the lax security around his store.

“That was a long time ago, Alchemist Aryveson,” I replied with a smile.

Of course, I am not angry at the man, but I didn’t favor him either. I didn’t give him the contract for the potions, like I do with many alchemists.

He has asked for it many times, since my legacy had been Grade I. He even came to Greltheaven.

Still, that doesn’t mean he didn’t get the emotion essence. He does; he is one of the top alchemists of Owlspring, and its lord provides it to him.

He would have gotten more if he had had a good relationship with me.

Which he did not, and I have no interest in improving it. I do not need him. An alchemist better than him came to me for emotion essence and even did a better job.

Unless he improves his skills beyond his current level, he can forget about getting any favor from me.

“Have a good day, Alchemist Aryveson,” I wished and walked away from him. He looked like he wanted to say something, even open his mouth, but closed it with sparks of anger flashing in his eyes.

I mingled with other guests, as there were many. As time passed, more came.

“I was mingling when a handsome man in his mid-twenties appeared in front of me.

He is tall and has long black hair, tied in a bun. This is not an everyday hairstyle, especially among humans. It is relatively common in orcs and some elves.

“Lord Silver,” he said. “My apologies, but I don’t think we have met before,” I replied. To that, he smiled.

“We have not. I am Karos Fairlow from Orwin and Fairlow,” he introduced, and I could see familiarity. I have met his father, not him.

His family runs one of the biggest law firms in the city.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Fairlow?” I asked. It’s clear he wants something. So, I might as well ask about it directly.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, covered us in the stealth.

“I believe you have someone named Ball Juras in your jail. His well-wishers have sent me to negotiate his terms of release.” He stated that, and a surprise couldn’t help but appear on my face.

I expected to face the attack rather than negotiations. I had even prepared for it, but I was a little disappointed when it didn’t come.

I looked at him and smiled.

“Please tell his well-wishers that the Dominion of Greltheaven has no desire to release him until he goes through the procedures of the law,” I replied and walked away.

There is no need to waste any time on things I have no intention of doing.

I might have listened for another minute. If it had been his father, but I do not have to listen to him.

“Lord Silver,” the man called, but I didn’t stop.

Though a moment later. I felt his skill trying to stop me, and a spark of anger flashed in the young man's eyes, activating my skill and pushing against his skill hard.

A moment later, the man’s eyes widened, and he shook before blood leaked out of his mouth.

He lost consciousness for a few seconds and would have collapsed on the floor. If not for someone catching him.

He should be thankful that it is all I have done if I used the full power of my skill, much less my aura. The consequences would have been far graver.

What he did was impolite and disrespectful. I hope he takes this as a lesson and never does something like this again, especially against someone who is far more powerful than he is.

I felt eyes on me, but I met them with a smile and resumed mingling like nothing had happened.