Erian spent the next morning in the central office of the Beast Trade Authority, a tall stone structure near the capital’s outer ring. The building housed scribes, inspectors, enforcement officers, ecological researchers, and several departments whose responsibilities often overlapped in confusing ways. As he entered the Records Hall the sound of turning pages filled the quiet room. Tall shelves held decades of trade logs. Dust coated the older volumes yet the records from the past year were pulled often enough that their bindings looked worn. Disorder was spreading across the kingdom and the paperwork showed it.

He approached a long table where three junior analysts waited for him. They had already collected the registry entries he requested. The stacks were arranged by region and transport route. Erian thanked them and sat down. He began marking key differences between legitimate flows and suspicious ones. The supplier codes from Silvergrove appeared far more frequently than they should. In particular a code marked “G47” showed up across multiple provinces. The code belonged to a transport guild that once handled only herbivore work creatures. Yet the logs now showed deliveries of predator species and rare beasts far outside their legal transport license.

He examined the mana signatures linked to the shipments. The registry enchanted quills recorded faint traces of the aura of each sealed crate upon arrival. In normal cases the aura patterns followed a predictable shape based on species type. But several logs contained signatures that were forcibly flattened as if someone had suppressed the beasts with dampening spells. This type of suppression was outlawed due to its harmful effect on magical creatures. Only poachers or illegal handlers would use such methods.

Erian made notes on each entry. He followed the trail across three regions. G47 linked to another supplier code, B12. Then B12 linked to yet another, marked simply as “North Ridge Independent.” That was not an official guild name. The pattern formed a branching map that circled the northern frontier. That frontier bordered the deep forest areas where many rare species lived. It was the perfect place for black market operations.

He rolled out a large parchment and began charting movement routes. He used colored ink to mark legal shipments in one shade and suspicious ones in another. As the lines formed an intricate web on the parchment the truth became clear. There were at least five separate supply chains funneling beasts from the northern frontier into central markets. Some shipments were disguised through breeding centers like Silvergrove. Others used smaller handlers to mask the origins. The network functioned like an underground artery system. It supplied beasts to illegal fighting arenas, nobles seeking exotic pets, and competing regions that wanted rare creatures for private collections.

Mira Denholt, the registrar, entered the hall carrying several more sealed envelopes. She placed them beside him and asked if he had found anything useful. He gestured to the chart. Mira leaned closer and studied the patterns. Her expression tightened. The scale of the network shocked her even though she already suspected corruption. She admitted that in recent months several inspectors had been reassigned suddenly or pressured to approve shipments quickly. Political influence reached deeper than she expected.

Erian asked if any names repeated across the approval signatures. Mira retrieved a book containing authorization records. Together they went through pages and cross-referenced signatures. One name recurred across every suspicious shipment. Halden Creel. A senior logistics officer listed as a regional compliance supervisor. He had enough authority to validate shipments entering the capital. If he was involved then the black market had someone positioned at a high level. That explained how forged documents passed through the system undetected.

Erian closed the ledger and asked Mira if Creel had a known residence or office. Mira hesitated. She explained that Creel often traveled and rarely used his official quarters. Some said he owned a private warehouse near the West Canal. Others whispered that he met suppliers at night in abandoned storage yards. Erian listened and kept his reaction still. He understood that corruption thrived in shadows created by institutional blind spots. Creel exploited exactly those gaps.

By afternoon Erian stood on a balcony overlooking the bustling central district. He took a slow breath and organized his next steps. He needed evidence. He needed confirmation that Creel acted intentionally rather than out of ignorance. To uncover that he would have to follow the trade routes physically, beginning with the West Canal area.

He left the Beast Trade Authority building and headed into the lower district where the canal roads twisted between warehouses. The air carried the smell of damp wood and river water. Barges drifted slowly alongside the piers. Workers loaded crates and tied ropes. To ordinary residents this place seemed like a normal cargo district. To Erian it felt too quiet in certain corners. Hidden activity always changed subtle rhythms in the environment.

He followed a narrow alley behind a row of storage buildings. The path led to an older warehouse with a sliding iron door. A faint mana residue lingered near the entrance. The signature felt similar to the suppressed aura he saw in the logs. He placed a hand close to the door and sensed vibrations of fear from inside. Not human fear but beast fear, a lingering echo from creatures once held within those walls.

He checked the lock and found it sealed with a simple mechanism. Not an enchanted one. That alone was suspicious. Anyone involved in legitimate trade would secure rare or volatile beasts with layered rune locks. He picked the latch and stepped inside.

The warehouse was empty but the floor told the story. Claw marks etched the wooden planks. Scratches revealed desperate movements. A small patch of dried mana residue clung to the far corner. It revealed traces of multiple species confined here in recent days. Someone had moved them quickly. Possibly aware of his investigation. Erian noted the timing and wondered how information traveled so fast. Then he remembered Mira’s warning. Corruption ran deep. Someone might have alerted Creel.

He heard footsteps outside. He stepped behind a stack of crates. Two men entered. Their conversation drifted through the dim warehouse. They argued about a delayed shipment and how the “inspector” had become a problem. One mentioned Creel by name. The other complained that the northern supply caravans refused to move until the inspector backed off. Erian listened carefully. He memorized every detail. The men revealed locations, timing, and a hint of who commanded the central operations. A name surfaced between their complaints. Vorrek. Not a noble but a known underworld broker rumored to run beast fights in the outer districts. If Vorrek was part of the chain then the black market presence was far more organized than a loose group of poachers.

The men left soon after. Erian stepped out of hiding and recorded their statements in his notes. He now had confirmation that Creel, the warehouse, the northern routes, and the black market syndicate were interlinked. He also had a lead. Vorrek’s underground arenas. That would be the next step. But he could not charge in without preparation. Illicit beast arenas were dangerous not only because of the criminals but because the beasts inside were often mistreated until they became unstable. Saving them required planning.

He left the warehouse and walked toward the canal. The afternoon sun reflected off the water. Barges floated in slow lines. People passed by unaware of the network hidden beneath their daily routines. Erian knew the beauty of the kingdom depended on what remained unseen. For every peaceful morning there was a fragile ecosystem struggling to stay intact.

He returned to the central office and prepared a full preliminary report. He structured it with clear findings. Supplier code patterns, falsified lineage, suppressed mana signatures, warehouse activity, overheard conversations, and all implications connecting Creel to illegal operations. He stopped only when the moon rose high. Exhaustion pulled at him but he kept writing until his conclusions were firm. Reform had to begin with dismantling the network branch by branch.

When he finished he looked over the city from the upper window. Lantern lights glowed across the streets. The kingdom appeared calm. A deceptive calm. But he saw the cracks beneath the surface. He intended to close every one.

Tomorrow he would confront Creel.

And that confrontation would not remain quiet.