Where is this carriage even taking me?
Obviously somewhere important — the royal district, maybe a grand mansion or estate. But that doesn't make it any less nerve-wracking.
The ride was quiet, almost too quiet.
Across from me sat a man — probably a servant — dressed in neat formal wear, posture so stiff it could snap. He hadn't said a word since we left.
The silence was suffocating.
"May I… know why your house requested my presence?" I finally asked, hoping to break it.
The man's eyes shifted toward me, calm and unreadable.
"My madam merely has a request," he said, voice level and polite.
A request?
That didn't sound too bad. But the way he said it didn't help either.
I leaned back against the seat, trying to mask my nerves.
Could it be my shop? Maybe my items caught the attention of some noble household?
Yeah… hopefully that's all this is.
Please, let this just be about business.
The carriage rolled to a smooth stop after what felt like half an hour.
Through the small window, I caught a glimpse of high stone walls wrapped in climbing ivy — and at the very top, fluttering against the night sky, a crimson flag marked with a golden sigil I didn't recognize.
The color stood out sharply, almost glowing beneath the lanterns that lined the path.
A red flag, huh? That's not ominous at all.
The servant stepped down first, opening the door with mechanical precision.
"We have arrived," he said.
I nodded, stepping out and immediately feeling dwarfed by the scale of the mansion before me.
It wasn't just large — it was imposing. A fortress masquerading as elegance.
The architecture blended sharp gothic towers with smooth marble columns, every corner lit by faintly enchanted lamps. The air smelled faintly of roses and rain-soaked stone.
Dozens of windows reflected the moonlight like watchful eyes, and two guards stood by the massive gate — both wearing the same crimson insignia on their uniforms.
"This way, sir," the servant said, leading me along a path of white bricks that glittered faintly underfoot.
I followed, trying to act calm even though every instinct screamed that I was way out of my league.
The great doors opened soundlessly as we approached, revealing a grand hall bathed in gold and scarlet light.
And there, at the far end of the corridor, stood a woman in a flowing dress of deep red — elegant, cold, and watching me with a faint, knowing smile.
Above her head, my Author's Eye flickered to life.
[Main Cast]
My throat went dry.
Well… that's new.
A Character that is part of the main cast?
Her smile was too practiced, too calm — the kind that could hide a knife behind it. Definitely not the kind of expression you'd expect from a simple supporting character.
So she's part of the main cast.
I just don't know what her role is.
"Follow me, mister," she said, her voice steady and low, carrying that quiet authority that made people obey without question.
I took a slow breath and followed, the servant from earlier walking silently beside me.
Even the two guards flanking the hall felt imposing — as if the air around them carried a weight I wasn't meant to touch.
Which part of the story is this supposed to be? I thought. Hopefully not the one where the random shopkeeper dies to start the plot.
The interior was just as lavish as the outside promised. Golden chandeliers hung above velvet carpets, and every wall was lined with portraits — faces of stern nobles watching me as I walked.
"Kindly have a seat here," the servant said, gesturing to a red, plush couch that looked far too expensive for me to even breathe on.
I sat carefully, trying not to sink too deep into it.
Another servant — a maid this time — approached quietly and poured a cup of tea, the aroma sharp and floral with a faint hint of something… metallic.
Red tea.
Of course it's red.
The woman — the apparent main cast member — sat gracefully across from me, her posture perfect, her gaze unwavering.
The silence between us felt heavy, like the air before a storm.
"Now then, let us get to the point. "The woman's voice was smooth but carried an edge that could cut glass. "I've been hearing that your little shop has been doing quite well."
Am I about to be taxed? Please no.
"Well, ever since I arrived here, it's been doing alright," I said, crossing my arms.
"That's good to hear," she replied, folding her hands neatly on her lap. "You see, I have a request for you… Merchant of the Unknown."
Merchant of what now? I don't remember anyone calling me that.
"I don't know where that nickname came from," I said, forcing a small smile, "but I can assure you, I'm just a humble merchant running a small shop."
"Your items have gained attention," she continued. "Among the common folk especially."
Is that how a main cast character talks?
"Well, yes," I said. "My items are meant for the people you refer to as 'peasants.'"
"So, you don't sell to nobles?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"More like… no nobles ever drop by."
"I see."
"Yep."
The silence that followed was awkward enough to taste.
Finally, she spoke again. "Putting that aside, my request is simple: I want you to provide me with an item. Something rare — something that would capture the attention of the nobility."
"That's… vague," I said. "May I ask what you need it for?"
"The Malkiha family is known for our military strength and tactical prowess," she said. "Because of that, the Empire wishes for us to take a seat among their Grand Council."
"Grand Council?"
"A circle of families who hold power in both politics and war. A seat there grants influence… and wealth."
Ah, there it is. Politics. The true fantasy monster.
"So," I said, "why not use your army's reputation to earn that seat? Surely that's enough."
Her eyes glimmered with amusement. "Oh? I didn't think you'd be more insightful than a rock."
Wow. Thanks, I guess.
"You see," she continued, "if an artifact — an unprecedented creation — were presented under the Malkiha banner, it would draw attention from the other noble houses. The kind that forges alliances… or envy."
"So you want to boost your family's prestige for an invitation."
"Correct. Every month, the royal families gather for the Empire's Grand Banquet. Each house boasts of their accomplishments. An item the world has never seen would cause a stir worthy of our name."
"You seem to mistake me for someone capable of miracles," I said.
"That's why you're perfect," she said, her lips curving faintly. "A merchant who sells items beyond this era's reach — convenient, effective, and mysterious. A man who makes the impossible… accessible."
"I suppose you could say that," I muttered.
"Then let's make a deal."
She placed a parchment on the table, the royal seal gleaming faintly in the candlelight.
"I'm not fond of contracts," I said immediately.
"Is that so?" she replied, smiling thinly.
Yeah, no thanks. Paper contracts from nobles tend to end with someone's head missing.
"However," I continued, "I can still give you what you're asking for — provided the price is right."
"Fine," she said. "But make sure it's worth the price you demand."
Her tone made it sound less like a deal… and more like a challenge.
"In fact," I said, trying to sound confident, "I could show it to you now."
Her lips curved faintly. "Oh… such a bold man."
Truth is, I wasn't bluffing. Out of all the minerals I'd encountered in this world, one was suspiciously absent — diamonds.
For some reason, they simply didn't exist here.
"Though I wouldn't call it an artifact," I said. "It's more of a gemstone."
"A gemstone?" she repeated. "Luxury items rarely attract the kind of attention I'm after."
"True," I admitted, "but this one is… unique. The only one of its kind."
Her eyes glimmered with intrigue. "Oh?"
"To put it simply," I said, "it's something no one in this world has ever seen or heard of."
"And what would that be?"
I raised my hand, shaped a circle with my fingers, and snapped. A ripple of light formed midair — my familiar portal swirling into existence.
The woman's eyes narrowed slightly. "I never knew merchants had access to space magic."
"You're becoming more interesting by the minute," she added, voice soft but sharp.
Yeah, interesting usually means trouble.
I reached into the portal and drew out a diamond — large, pure, and glimmering with cold light. Setting it on the table, I gestured for her to take a look.
She leaned forward, picking it up delicately between her fingers. The gem's surface caught the chandelier's light, scattering faint rainbows across her pale face.
"It's called a diamond," I explained. "An indestructible gem of nature."
"Indestructible?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "That's quite the claim."
She examined it for a moment longer, then gave a short command. "Call the guards."
The maid behind her bowed quickly and disappeared through the door.
I sighed inwardly. Of course. She wants to test it.
"You'd better not disappoint me," she said, her gaze sharp.
Within seconds, the two guards from earlier entered. One of them unsheathed his sword at her order.
"Strike it," she commanded.
The guard brought his blade down hard on the gem. The sharp clang echoed through the room — but the diamond didn't even scratch.
She frowned. "Again. Use full force."
The sword struck again, then again — sparks flew, the guard's blade chipped, and the diamond still gleamed untouched.
"Then let's see if it withstands magic," she said.
I stayed quiet. Oh, this is going to be fun.
She extended a hand, conjuring a sharp, focused flame, then blasted it directly at the diamond. The air shimmered with heat, the scent of burning wood filling the room — yet the gemstone remained perfectly clear.
"Enough, my lady!" the maid cried. "You'll set the hall ablaze!"
The noblewoman finally relented, panting slightly as the fire died. The guards looked just as shaken — their eyes fixed on the unmarred diamond resting calmly on the table.
What they didn't know was that diamonds here reacted differently than on Earth.
The first time I tested one, a dwarf blacksmith had tried melting it down — but instead of burning, the diamond had absorbed the flame. The mana within the fire simply vanished into the gem's surface, leaving it unscathed.
My guess? This world's "magic energy" was similar in frequency to high-level radiation — and the diamond's crystalline lattice acted like a perfect mana insulator, absorbing and neutralizing it.
In short, it wasn't just hard. It was immune to magic itself.
"So," I said, leaning back, "does that meet your qualifications?"
She caught her breath, then smiled faintly. "Indeed it does."
She gestured for the guards to leave, then turned back to me. "What is the price you're asking for?"
"Considering that both brute force and magic can't harm it," I said, "twelve Damac coins seems fair."
Her brows lifted slightly. "Twelve Damac? Reasonable."
"I don't overcharge," I replied with a grin.
"Fine. Twelve Damac it is."
She motioned for her maid, who quickly brought a small ornate case filled with coins that shimmered with an inner light. The weight of wealth hit the table with a satisfying sound.
I smiled. "Nature never fails to surprise, does it?"
"You're a mysterious man, merchant," she said, her gaze lingering. "Where did you find such a gemstone?"
"I couldn't tell you," I replied lightly. "If word got out, the world would strip it bare within days."
She chuckled softly, a dangerous, knowing sound.
Technically, I thought, it doesn't exist in this world anymore.
But she didn't need to know that.