Reinventing Magic: An Inventor's Tale-Chapter 98: The Jewel of the Southern Reaches

The afternoon sun bathed Bryndis in golden light as thousands of merchants gathered outside the towering gates of the newly constructed district. The air buzzed with anticipation, a sea of finely dressed traders, guild representatives, and curious onlookers pressing forward, their eyes wide with wonder.

At the forefront stood Sylvaine Mercer, her petite frame dwarfed by the massive archway behind her. She adjusted her earth-toned tunic, fingers brushing against the small geomancy charms at her belt—a nervous habit. Beside her, Alric Voss leaned casually on his cane, his sharp hazel eyes scanning the crowd with practiced ease.

"Is this even possible?" one merchant had asked weeks ago, skepticism lacing his voice as he studied the blueprints.

Now, as the gates loomed before them, that skepticism had melted into awe.

The merchants had seen grand cities before—the marble spires of Liora, the fortified walls of the royal capital—but nothing like ’this.’ The district’s architecture was sleek, its structures forged from reinforced mana-infused stone and gleaming metal accents. Arcane conduits hummed beneath the streets, their energy pulsing like veins of light.

Sylvaine took a steadying breath and stepped forward. The murmurs of the crowd hushed instantly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began, her voice carrying effortlessly over the sea of faces, "welcome to Bryndis’ newest marvel—the ’Jewel of the Southern Reaches!’"

A ripple of excitement passed through the crowd.

"This district is the first of its kind in this world," Sylvaine continued, her hazel eyes alight with passion. "Within these walls, you will find innovations beyond imagination—a marketplace where commerce flows seamlessly, where magic and craftsmanship unite to create wonders!"

She gestured broadly toward the gates. "For those who join us as tenants, the benefits are unparalleled. Reduced tariffs for the first year. Priority access to Bryndis’ trade networks. And most importantly—’protection.’"

Her voice hardened slightly. "Here, your businesses will thrive without fear of unjust taxation or political meddling."

Alric smirked, twirling his cane. "And let’s not forget the ’mall.’"

A murmur of confusion spread through the crowd.

Sylvaine grinned. "Ah, yes. The ’mall.’" She turned, raising a hand toward the gates. "Why explain when you can ’see’ for yourselves?"

With a flick of her wrist, the massive gates groaned open.

The merchants surged forward, their gasps echoing as they stepped into the district.

Before them stretched a wide, paved boulevard lined with towering structures of polished stone and glass.

At its heart stood the ’mall’—a colossal, multi-tiered marketplace, its interior visible through transparent walls reinforced with mana. Shops of every kind lined its floors, their signs glowing with runic illumination.

But that was only the beginning.

To the left, a grand hotel loomed, its balconies draped with silken banners bearing Bryndis’ crest. To the right, restaurants and teahouses emitted tantalizing aromas, their outdoor seating arranged around a central fountain where water danced in intricate patterns, guided by unseen magic.

And above it all, suspended between the buildings, were ’walkways’—floating pathways of reinforced glass, allowing foot traffic to move effortlessly between levels without stairs.

One merchant, a grizzled old trader from the northern provinces, staggered to a halt, his jaw slack. "By the gods... it’s a city within a city!"

Alric chuckled, stepping up beside him. "And every inch of it is ’profitable.’"

The merchants fanned out, their skepticism replaced by sheer wonder. Some rushed toward the mall, eager to inspect the shopfronts. Others marveled at the hotels, already calculating the potential for luxury accommodations.

Sylvaine watched them all with satisfaction.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar figure—Victor Dalmont, his scarred face unreadable as he observed the crowd from a distance. His hand rested on Dawnbreaker’s hilt, his piercing blue eyes scanning for threats.

She caught his gaze and nodded once.

He returned the gesture, then melted back into the shadows.

Bryndis’ future was unfolding before them.

And the world would never be the same.

---

The crowd of merchants hesitated at the mall’s entrance, their eyes widening as the towering glass doors slid open without a single attendant pushing them—no servant, no guard, just seamless motion as if the building itself welcomed them.

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the group.

"Magic?" a silk-robed trader from the southern coasts whispered, fingers tightening around his ledger.

Alric Voss smirked, tapping his cane against the polished floor. "Better. Innovation."

Uniformed attendants—men and women dressed in crisp blue-and-silver tunics—stepped forward, bowing in unison.

"Welcome to the Bryndis Grand Emporium," they announced smoothly. "Please follow us for your orientation."

The merchants exchanged glances. Never had they seen such precision in service.

The moment they stepped inside, a wave of cool air washed over them. The merchants stiffened, some gasping as the unexpected crispness brushed against their skin.

"By the heavens—why is it so cold?" a spice merchant blurted, rubbing his arms.

One of the attendants, a composed young woman with the Bryndis crest pinned to her lapel, gestured toward a large, crystalline orb embedded in the ceiling. Its surface shimmered with intricate frost-patterned enchantments.

"That is the Glacial Core," she explained. "An artifact personally crafted by the Baron. It regulates the air within the entire structure, maintaining perfect coolness regardless of the season."

A portly textile merchant gaped. "You mean to tell me this ’single’ artifact chills an entire building?"

The attendant nodded. "Effortlessly. And without ice magic or elemental summons."

The merchants fell silent, staring up at the orb in awe.

The guide led them deeper into the atrium, where a massive, spiraling structure dominated the center—a staircase unlike any they had ever seen.

Yet it ’moved.’

The steps glided upward in an endless loop, carrying those who stepped onto them without effort. A few merchants yelped as the ground shifted beneath their feet, gripping the polished rail. freewebnσvel.cѳm

"What in the world—?!" a silver-haired trader exclaimed, nearly stumbling.

Alric, already standing calmly on the ascending steps, chuckled. "This is called an ’escalator.’ No climbing necessary."

A young merchant from the eastern markets, her fingers tracing the smooth rail, whispered, "It’s like a river... but for walking."

The guide nodded. "Designed by the Baron. Simply step on, and let it carry you."

For those still wary of the moving stairs, the guide gestured toward a small, gilded chamber at the side. "For those who prefer speed, we have the ’elevator’."

A merchant frowned. "A what?"

The attendant pressed a rune, and the chamber’s doors slid open. "Step inside."

Hesitantly, a few entered. The doors sealed shut.

Then—

"WE’RE RISING!" one yelped as the floor lurched beneath them.

Seconds later, the doors opened again—revealing the fifth floor.

The merchants stumbled out, wide-eyed. "Did we just... fly?!"

The guide smiled. "Controlled levitation enchantments. No stairs, no waiting."

A grizzled old trader exhaled sharply. "I’ve seen archmages struggle with lesser feats."

Finally, the guide led them to the heart of the mall—a vast concourse lined with pristine glass storefronts, each illuminated by softly glowing mana-lights.

"These will be your storefronts," the guide announced. "Customizable to your needs—shelves, displays, even the glass tint can be adjusted."

A jeweler ran a hand along the flawless surface. "This is... impossible. No imperfections, no distortions. How?"

"The Baron’s own glasscraft," the guide said simply. "Stronger than steel, clearer than dawn."

A murmur of astonishment. Then—

"Who IS this man?" a merchant finally asked, shaking his head. "Who ’dreams’ of such things?"

Alric leaned on his cane, his smirk deepening.

"A man ahead of his time."

And as the merchants stood there, surrounded by wonders that defied reason, one truth settled upon them like the mall’s perfect, enchanted chill:

Bryndis wasn’t just changing the game.

It was rewriting the rules entirely.

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