The air outside the small stone cottage was crisp, the evening settling over Fogpeak Village like a heavy blanket. The mountain tremors had finally subsided, but the tension in the village was palpable. Something stirred deep beneath the earth, and Cain could sense the underlying unease in every conversation his parents had.
His father, 'Toran', buckled his armor in the dim light, his expression tense as he prepared to leave the house. The tremors had unearthed something valuable—resources crucial for cultivation—and the factions were positioning themselves to control it.
Brigid stood by the door, watching him closely. She appeared calm, but Cain could sense the gears turning in her mind.
"I don't like this," she said softly, her voice betraying a hint of concern. "The council is pushing too hard."
Toran adjusted his sword belt and nodded. "I know. But we can't afford to lose control of those resources. The Mountain Vein Sect is already sniffing around the site. If we don't act now, they'll claim it all."
Brigid's eyes flickered. "And the 'Merchant Syndicate' ? What's their angle in all of this?"
Toran sighed. "Geralt Malkin's been suspiciously quiet. I wouldn't be surprised if he's making deals with both sides, waiting to profit no matter the outcome."
Brigid's lips pressed into a thin line. "Keep your eyes open, Toran. You know how the Syndicate operates—they never pick sides, but they always have a hand in the outcome."
With a final nod, Toran leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll be careful."
As he left, Cain could sense that the battle outside the village wasn't just about strength or skill—it was about control. And the Merchant Syndicate, quiet as they seemed, was waiting in the wings, ready to seize any opportunity the conflict might provide.
***
Toran arrived at the base of the mountain, where a small contingent of Totem Warriors from the council had already gathered. Their faces were grim, their eyes focused on the distant figures of the Mountain Vein Sect disciples approaching from the other side.
"The tremors have exposed veins of Earthheart Crystals," Toran's second-in-command, Hakan, muttered. "The council wants us to secure them before the sect gets their hands on them."
Toran grunted in acknowledgment, his gaze shifting toward the mountain's peak, where thin wisps of smoke rose from the ground. "And what's the Syndicate doing in all this?"
Hakan shook his head. "Nothing yet, but I've seen Syndicate men lurking around the village. They're waiting, watching. You know how Geralt is. He'll swoop in once we've done all the hard work."
Toran clenched his fists. "Let's make sure that doesn't happen."
Before they could plan further, a sharp voice echoed from the other side of the clearing. "Lina", a high-ranking member of the **Mountain Vein Sect**, strode forward, her eyes narrowing as she took in the Totem Warriors.
"We both know what's at stake here, Toran," she called out. "The Earthheart Crystals are more valuable to the sect than they are to your council. Hand them over, and we'll make sure no harm comes to your men."
Toran stepped forward, his face set in a hard line. "You mean after you strip us of our totems and leave us to rot? No thanks. The council will take what's ours."
The two forces clashed without further warning. Totem Warriors charged, their muscles rippling with enhanced strength, while the Mountain Vein Sect mystics moved with eerie precision, channeling the mountain's natural energy into their attacks.
Hakan let out a roar as he activated his totems, combining Ironfist totem, which made his fists glow faintly with a gleam dark colour augmenting them, and Bullforce totem that enhance his whole body becoming as robust as the mountain rocks.
His fists became like steel, each punch shattering stone as he bulldozed through the sect's defensive line. His movements were quick, empowered by Swiftstep totem, as he delivered strike after strike.
On the other side, Lina summoned her own power, leaping high into the air using a technique called 'Titan Leap', her skin hardening like stone as she prepared to deliver a shockwave upon landing. She crashed into the ground with a deafening boom, sending several warriors flying.
In the chaos, Toran noticed a group of figures standing on the outskirts of the battle—dressed in plain clothing, but unmistakably from the Merchant Syndicate. Geralt Malkin stood among them, watching the fight with a calculating gaze. His men made no move to join either side, but he could sense they were waiting for an opportunity.
As the battle raged, it became clear that neither side was gaining the upper hand. The council's warriors were strong, but the sect's mystics wielded the mountain's power with terrifying precision.
Toran, panting from exertion, turned to Hakan. "We need to end this quickly. If the Syndicate steps in—"
"They won't," Hakan growled. "Not yet. But they're waiting for us to weaken each other. Geralt's not stupid."
Just as Toran prepared to engage Lina once more, a loud crack echoed through the battlefield. One of the exposed crystal veins had split open, sending a cascade of Earthheart Crystals tumbling down the mountainside.
A group of Merchant Syndicate men, led by Geralt, rushed forward.
"Now!" Geralt's voice rang out. "Gather the crystals while they're distracted!"
Toran cursed under his breath. "Damn it, they're trying to snatch it from under us!"
Hakan roared and charged at the Syndicate men, his fists raised, but Geralt raised a hand. "Easy now, warrior. We're just businessmen here, looking to ensure these valuable resources don't go to waste."
"By stealing them?" Toran spat, stepping forward.
Geralt smiled. "Stealing is such an ugly word. Let's call it... redistributing. And if you let us 'redistribute' some of these crystals, we can guarantee they'll end up in the right hands. Maybe even some back with the council."
Toran's eyes narrowed. "And if we refuse?"
Geralt's smile didn't falter. "Then we'll wait for you and the sect to tear each other apart. Either way, we win."
The arrival of the Merchant Syndicate shifted the dynamic of the fight. The Mountain Vein Sect saw the Syndicate's move and hesitated. Lina cursed under her breath as her men faltered. The council warriors, too, slowed their attacks, realizing that fighting on would only benefit the merchants.
Toran clenched his fists, rage boiling inside him. "We can't let them take everything."
But Brigid's voice echoed in his mind. "Keep your eyes open. The Syndicate will always have a hand in the outcome."
With a heavy sigh, Toran lowered his sword. "Fine. Take some of the crystals. But you stay out of the rest."
Geralt's smile widened. "A pleasure doing business with you."
As the Syndicate men gathered their share of the Earthheart Crystals, the battle fizzled out. The Mountain Vein Sect, seeing that they had lost their chance to claim the crystals outright, retreated into the shadows.
Toran watched them go, a bitter taste in his mouth. The resources had been split, the battle won in some sense, but it was the Merchant Syndicate who had truly come out on top—just as Brigid had warned.
***
Back in the village, Brigid waited by the hearth, her face calm as ever. When Toran returned, she raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. Geralt Malkin got what he wanted?"
Toran grunted, removing his armor. "More or less. But at least we kept the rest of the crystals."
Brigid nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Then it's a victory of sorts."
Cain, lying quietly in his cradle, listened closely. He had learned something valuable today—power in Fogpeak wasn't just about strength or resources. It was about who controlled the flow of those resources.
And for now, the Merchant Syndicate controlled more than anyone realized.