The cold air of the Dark River reeked of sour rot. Will still remembered his first time here, how the stench made his nose wrinkle. Now, he barely noticed it.

The Wolf King reclined on a thick deerskin mat, clutching an obsidian stone in his paw. He tapped its sharp tip against the boat’s edge, lost in thought. The interest on that loan is far too steep… But as long as I take the Great Wall, even the highest interest will be trivial compared to what I’ll gain.

The boat jolted suddenly, and the obsidian nearly slipped from his grasp, tumbling into the murky depths below. Will sat up straight, transferring the stone from his right paw to his left. Can’t even hold a pebble steady anymore? He let out a bitter laugh. Ever since his right paw had been burned by the prophet’s holy light, it had never regained its full agility.

He glanced at the white wolf pup, Ash, who was staring wide-eyed at the strange shops lining the riverbanks, completely oblivious to his moment of weakness. His body is massive, but his mind is still that of a pup. That was Will’s verdict on the young white wolf.

Though he had promised to hand over the Wolf King’s throne to the White Wolf King once the Great Wall fell, he never took the pledge seriously. It was just a necessary compromise to forge an alliance between their two clans. Old Watt was too frail to lead the entire wolf tribe—he lacked the energy. Ash was strong, but too naive to rule. If that day ever comes, I’ll still be the one leading the wolves. Will’s eyes narrowed to slits.

The Dark River gurgled, reflecting the eerie green will-o’-the-wisps along its banks. Shops crowded the shore, their signs adorned with bizarre, unsettling images: slithering serpents, soaring hawks, ghostly blue flowers, glowing silver leaves, headless monks, human couples in intimate embrace…

“Is this the legendary Outland Black Market?” Ash asked, his voice brimming with excitement. “Can you really buy anything here?”

He’d asked the same question three times since they boarded the boat. Will sighed inwardly, but answered patiently: “As long as you have enough obsidian, you can buy anything you want along the Curse Mausoleum Dark River.”

“Even spells?”

“Spells, blood magic, dark pacts—all of it.”

“I want the Leaping Curse!”

“Of course.” Will smiled. Ever since he’d shown Ash the Thousand-Cliff Wall the day before, the pup had been obsessed with fox clan spells. Exactly what Will wanted: if every white wolf could master the Leaping Curse, they’d be perfect tools for his plans.

The boat glided through an archway flanked by gargoyle statues. Beyond it, the narrow river opened into a wide, brightly lit basin. The shore was bustling with activity. A dozen delicate fountains bloomed around the water, each backed by an ornate tower.

“Take me to Beatrice’s.” Will said.

“Mrow.” The black cat manning the oars grunted, then steered the boat toward a fountain spouting rainbow-colored water.

As they drew near, Will saw a small girl in a red-and-green brocade robe standing on the shore, hands on her hips, watching him. Miracle Merchant… The Wolf King’s thoughts drifted to the three catapults he’d bought from her half a year ago. He’d planned to use those contraptions to breach the Great Wall, but the human legion seized them as soon as they reached Wolf God Mountains. Will let out another bitter laugh. Total loss.

Ash growled, his paws tensing as if he was about to leap onto the shore. “Don’t be foolish—she’s a black merchant!” Will snapped.

“What? She’s just a kid!” Ash exclaimed.

“Beatrice is over two hundred years old.” Will jumped onto the stone steps, tossing the obsidian stone to the black cat. “Her youthful appearance is probably from a magic potion.”

“Mrow.” The cat caught the stone, pushed off the steps with its oar, and drifted away.

“Not a potion—fox clan’s youth-preserving curse.” The girl leaned against the stone railing, grinning. “It’s been ages since you visited, Wolf King. I almost forgot what you looked like, heh…”

“Damn you, old hag! Every time I do business with you, I lose money!” Will snarled.

“Heh, that’s your problem! I always give you a friend’s discount!” Beatrice noticed Ash and tilted her head. “Wait, did you get a new bodyguard? Where’s Wolf?”

“He’s my brother, Ash. I brought him to see the world. Wolf’s waiting outside the Curse Mausoleum.”

“Black wolves and white wolves have always been mortal enemies. You calling a white wolf ‘brother’ is a miracle indeed!”

“Are you the legendary ‘Miracle Merchant’ Beatrice, the richest in the land?” Ash asked, sizing her up.

“There are plenty of wealthy merchants in Golden Harbor. I don’t dare claim to be the richest.” Beatrice giggled. “But I do have lots of good things—if you can pay the price.”

“I’ve brought enough payment today. I want to stock up on supplies.” Will said.

“What’ll it be this time?”

The Wolf King’s voice turned serious: “I want the latest military intelligence from the Great Wall.”

Beatrice froze. “Wolf King, we’ve done business before. You know the rules, right?”

“I know Golden Harbor’s trade laws: black merchants can’t harm human interests when dealing with demons.” Will glanced at the tower behind her, its door ajar, spilling faint purple light. She’s never invited me into her tower—was it because my previous payments weren’t enough?

“But times have changed. Those rules are outdated—no one follows them except you.”

“You’re right, friend. Most black merchants ignore the laws now. You could buy that intelligence from anyone else.” Beatrice sighed softly. “But I was born in Golden Harbor’s golden age. I even signed the Free Trade Pact myself. So no matter what others do, I’ll stick to the rules.”

“Then why did you sell me those three catapults? You knew exactly what I’d use them for.”

“That’s different. You bought weapons—I could pretend not to know your intentions. But buying Great Wall intelligence directly harms human interests.” Beatrice stood firm.

Fine, I’ll buy from someone else. “Alright, forget the intelligence.” Will lifted his chin. “I want to buy a pack of wolf riders.”