The first step was using the martial tournament as a way to promote healing potions to adventurers. The second was lending and selling weapons and gear.
"Speaking of the weapons crafted by Kurobee," Atem said calmly, his crimson eyes sharp with quiet confidence, "even his so-called failures are masterpieces. To an ordinary adventurer, they would be priceless. But his disciples… their works have matured. We can sell their gear as well. Let them prove their worth through this festival."
Myourmiles's heart pounded faster as Atem continued to outline his plan. "A casino will also be established," Atem went on, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "We will make betting on the tournament legal and controlled. Enormous profits will flow. Human versus human… and captured monsters will fight as well. The thrill will be unmatched."
"...That's—That's brilliant," Myourmiles whispered, barely able to contain his awe.
"Of course," Atem added, his voice growing deeper, more commanding, "security and control are absolute. I have enough subordinates to ensure not a single soul dares cause trouble. The colosseum will also serve as a training ground for rookie adventurers. We'll rent it out, assign instructors, and make them pay for the privilege to grow stronger under our watch."
Myourmiles's mind raced as idea after idea flooded in—things he'd never have imagined alone. Under Atem's guidance, his imagination had exploded into something grand and limitless.
So many possibilities… so much profit. I've been entrusted with something enormous.
"I'll do it," Myourmiles finally declared, his merchant's blood surging through him. "I'll make it work. My instincts are screaming that this is going to make us a fortune!"
Atem's lips curved ever so slightly. "Good. I expected nothing less of you. That confidence—make sure it's not wasted, Myourmiles-kun. Do not disappoint me."
Hearing Atem's praise made Myourmiles flustered, but it also filled his chest with fire. Atem leaned forward slightly, his voice calm but piercing.
"Myourmiles," Atem said, "once the festival is over, I want you in Eterna permanently. Commercial division, financial division, or advertisement—you can choose your battlefield. But you will become one of my executives. Eterna will expand beyond its borders, and when it does, it will need people who can turn my visions into reality. People like you."
The words hit Myourmiles like a divine decree. Atem wasn't just asking—he was declaring the future.
"What do you say?" Atem asked quietly, but his voice carried the weight of destiny.
Myourmiles felt his heart race. It was a melody sweeter than gold and more tempting than power itself.
"I… I have truly been defeated," Myourmiles said, kneeling slightly, head bowed. "Atem-sama… I, Myourmiles, swear to ensure the success of this plan. I will bring glory to Eterna!"
It was only natural. Atem's faith in him was absolute. Failure was not an option.
After so many years of living as a merchant, this was the first time his blood burned with such intensity. Excitement, ambition, and loyalty merged into one blazing resolve.
"You're being too dramatic, Myourmiles-kun," Atem said with a soft laugh. But even his laughter carried weight, and the tension didn't fade. The two of them dove back into planning, refining details late into the night.
Myourmiles could feel it: this was no ordinary event. This was a turning point. He would become Atem's trusted hand. He would not falter.
When Atem finally left, Myourmiles gathered his men.
"Myourmiles-sama, what did Atem-sama visit you for?" asked Bydd, his personal bodyguard and an ex-Rank C adventurer.
Myourmiles tilted his head back dramatically, eyes blazing. "Bydd… We're about to be very, very busy."
Bydd raised a brow and gave a wry chuckle. "Another one of his grand ideas, huh? Atem-sama's plans are always something else. He doesn't know what it's like to be the one running around to make them happen…"
His words were light, but the spark in his eyes betrayed his true feeling—excitement. He too had once been saved by Atem, and like Myourmiles, he had fallen under the spell of that unshakable presence.
"Hehe, this time is different, Bydd," Myourmiles said, his grin widening. "The past plans were games—small margins, easy profits. But this one… this is the real deal. This time, we're betting our future."
His naturally sharp face twisted into something far more dangerous—a look that would have terrified outsiders. But his people knew better. This was his serious face.
"Master, what do you mean by that?" the butler asked, speaking for everyone.
Myourmiles straightened his back and retold everything Atem had told him. The founding festival of Eterna. The martial tournament. The opening of fast food stores. The betting system. The training grounds. The casino. The merchant flow.
Every detail was grander than the last. This wasn't just an event—it was a calculated movement of an entire nation.
As the explanation ended, the room fell into silence. Even the air felt heavier.
"The Founding Festival of Eterna isn't just a celebration," Myourmiles concluded, his voice low but fierce. "It's a declaration of power. Atem-sama's power. And we're the ones who will build the stage for it."
Everyone looked at one another—then nodded.
Myourmiles clenched his fist. His blood roared with ambition.
I'll make this festival a success and earn my place by Lord Atem's side. I swear it.
He gathered his people and announced the news with an unshakable fire in his voice.
"I've decided to pledge my allegiance to Atem-sama. This time… the plan must succeed no matter what."
The words hit his subordinates like a hammer. A moment of silence fell over the room. Myourmiles had made up his mind—not just to assist, but to abandon everything here and devote himself to Atem's cause. Once they realized that, confusion and shock spread across their faces.
"Hehe, Myourmiles-sama," Bydd spoke first, grinning like always. "You're not planning to go alone, are you? I may just be a thug, but I'm still your bodyguard. And don't forget, the boys look up to Atem-sama too. You're not leaving us behind."
"If I really went alone," Myourmiles replied, raising an eyebrow, "you wouldn't even be able to protect me."
"T-that's so mean!" Bydd barked back, but there was no sting behind it.
"—But," Myourmiles continued, his voice lowering just a little, "if you're willing to help me, then it'll be fine to bring you along."
"Of course I am! I'll do anything. I might not be clever like you, but I've still got some tricks up my sleeve." Bydd smirked. His old life as a conman gave him a talent for sly maneuvering—a useful asset.
Myourmiles sighed. "I'm really hopeless against your type. Fine. The more the merrier. And that includes those thugs of yours. If they can't make a living, they can at least work as guards. I'll bring them along too."
The decision was made. Bydd's men would follow.
Then Myourmiles turned to the others. "What about the rest of you? This house… it's yours if you want it."
" " "Please allow us to accompany you!" " " they shouted in unison, voices steady with resolve.
These were the people he had trained himself. They had no ties to this kingdom anymore. They were loyal to him—and now, by extension, to Atem.
But loyalty wasn't enough. There were practical matters to settle. Myourmiles may have pledged himself to Atem, but he wasn't reckless. He turned toward one of his men—a capable lieutenant who had risen from under his wing.
"Oi, you're good enough to stand on your own. Is it fine if I hand this shop to you?"
"M-Master! Why are you bringing this up so suddenly…"
"It's nothing." Myourmiles spoke calmly, but his eyes were sharp. "I'm happy you all want to follow me. But think about it. We don't have a secure foundation in Eterna yet. I'll rely on Atem-sama, yes, but that doesn't mean your lives should be tossed around like dice on a table. I don't want to drag you all into uncertainty."
In truth, Myourmiles had no intention of letting everything he'd built here rot away. If he abandoned this estate entirely, he'd lose a foundation he had worked years to build. Leaving someone trustworthy behind to maintain it was the only smart move.
"Bach," he said, calling the man's name. Bach stiffened at the sound. He was the son of a close acquaintance—someone who had sent him to Myourmiles to learn. Smart, sharp, dependable. When his family's business failed, Myourmiles had taken him in and made him the shop manager. Bach's entire family now depended on his earnings here.
"M-Master," Bach stammered, "I'm truly honored you'd trust me with the shop. But… we also want to go with you."
Myourmiles could see the fire in the young man's eyes. Too young, too eager.
"Bach," he said slowly, "I'm not your parents. I never said I'm giving you this shop. I'm letting you manage it. Even when I'm gone, you cannot let this place fall apart. Got it? And one day—you'll buy it from me. With your own hands."
Bach froze. Myourmiles stepped forward and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. His expression softened, but his tone was still firm—he was a merchant, not a fool.
"Run this shop well. Make it prosper. Bring your parents here one day. That's your path, Bach. Mine leads elsewhere."
It was a promise wrapped in steel.
He would leave behind this foothold in Blumund, but not abandon it. If Bach couldn't handle it, then he wasn't worth keeping anyway.
In Myourmiles's mind, there was no room for half-measures anymore. Atem had placed faith in him. Failure was not an option. Eterna awaited. His future would be forged with his own hands—under the shadow and brilliance of Atem, Sovereign of Eterna.
And with that resolve burning in his chest, the merchant of Blumund prepared to walk into a new destiny.