The days leading up to the journey were a storm of planning. Dustfall buzzed like a marketplace before a grand festival. Merchants adjusted their schedules. Adventurers volunteered to guard. Clerks organized documents for the Royal Council. Even villagers who rarely left the fields came to offer dried food or spare boots.

Alan moved through it all with calm precision. But internally he felt the pull of responsibility like an anchor. Leaving Dustfall meant leaving the exchange vulnerable. He needed to build a system that could run without him even if trouble came.

So he started with the clerks.

He gathered them inside the hall. Today you learn to run the exchange without me. Not for a day. For weeks. Maybe longer. They exchanged nervous glances.

Alan broke the tasks into parts. Price recording. Verification. Fraud inspection. Public updates. Emergency adjustments. He created simple manuals explaining each step. Not perfect but enough. Enough to give them confidence.

He taught them how to spot unusual patterns. Sudden supply spikes. Strange buyer behavior. Inconsistent core glow. He reminded them that information was the heart of the exchange. If patterns were wrong the system collapsed.

Ressa stood behind him with crossed arms. You sound like a teacher. Alan smiled faintly. Teaching is cheaper than rebuilding.

Meanwhile the adventurers formed a small escort group. Five members including Ressa volunteered. Each skilled in different roles. A scout. A healer. A shield bearer. A mage. A tracker. Ressa chose them carefully. She would lead them herself.

Alan protested. Ressa Dustfall needs you here. She shook her head. Dustfall also needs you alive. If the kingdom takes you we must be there to break you out. Alan sighed. You make diplomacy sound peaceful. Ressa smirked. Politics is just another battlefield.

That evening the first reply from the frontier towns arrived. The town of Riverveil agreed to form a trade alliance. A small town but positioned along a major river route. Their support gave Dustfall leverage in negotiations. The second letter came from Windbarrow. They also accepted. The third letter had not yet arrived. But two out of three was enough.

Alan added the alliances to his notes. With Riverveil and Windbarrow supporting Dustfall its trading influence stretched across half the frontier. Enough to pressure the kingdom into treating the exchange as a partner not a tool.

But the final preparation came from an unexpected place.

Varrin.

He appeared at midnight leaning against the exchange doorway as if he owned it. Alan did not flinch. You are bold to show yourself here. Varrin shrugged. I am bold everywhere. But tonight I bring information not threats.

He tossed a folded paper onto the table. Alan opened it. His eyes narrowed. A list of names. Nobles. Advisors. Mana Bureau officials. Varrin explained. These are the people who want you to fail. Some for power. Some for profit. Some because they fear change. Consider it a courtesy. Dustfall is more fun when it fights back.

Alan looked up. Why help me. Varrin smirked. Because I want to see how far you can go before you break. The higher you climb the more entertaining the fall.

Ressa growled but Alan raised a hand. He met Varrin’s eyes. Thank you. But remember something. I do not plan to fall. Varrin’s grin widened. Then this will be even more interesting.

He vanished into the night.

Ressa slammed her hand on the table. You cannot trust him. Alan agreed. I do not trust him. But information is information. If our enemies in the capital move silently we must know who they are.

The next morning Dustfall gathered at the main road. The escort stood ready. The clerks stood behind them holding ledgers. Villagers brought small gifts. Children waved goodbye. It felt like a hero leaving for a kingdom quest. But Alan knew the truth. He was not going to fight a monster. He was going to negotiate with something far more dangerous. People with power.

Old Rae approached him. The village stands with you Guildmaster. No matter what the capital says. Do not forget that. Alan bowed deeply. I will return. With stability. With protection. For Dustfall.

He stepped onto the road.

Ressa walked beside him. The escort behind them. Sister Lyria watched from a distance as church observers prepared to follow. Darin Holt and Master Valen waited half a mile away ready to join the journey.

The road to Eldergate stretched long and uncertain. A path filled with politics and traps and unseen battles. A path where words would be sharper than swords and information more lethal than blades.

Alan took the first step.

The world had begun to shift around a single frontier guildmaster.
And the shift was only getting started.