They walked together. Fenwick led. Lucid followed. The streets were emptier now. Afternoon transitioning to evening. Merchants closing shops. Drunks not yet emerging. The quiet period between commerce and chaos.
"The rules are simple," Fenwick said. His voice had lost the desperate edge. Replaced with something more clinical. Educational. "To enter the Domain consciously, to move freely within it, you need one of two things."
"Wealth," Lucid said. "You already mentioned that."
"Yes. Significant wealth. Not pocket change. Not a few gold coins. Real assets. Property. Holdings. Things with quantifiable value that the Domain recognizes."
"And the second option?"
Fenwick glanced back. Studied Lucid's face through the mist. "You need to be Illuminated. Enlightened. Possess a vast pool of fate essence. The kind of power that transcends normal economic measurement."
'Careful. Do not react. Do not show anything.'
Lucid kept his expression neutral. Bored even. "Sounds exclusive."
"It is. Very few people in Port Vexis meet either criteria. Most who enter the Domain do so accidentally. Get frozen. Become part of the landscape." Fenwick turned a corner. Kept walking. "The most reputable Illuminated from Vex is Lyssandra. The Sky Sundered Saint. But she is away for the Transcendence. Fighting in the arenas. Pursuing the Grail."
He knew her.
"So we need wealth," Lucid said. Steering the conversation back. "Which neither of us has. You just got ridiculed at a bank. I got thrown out of one. What exactly is your plan?"
Fenwick grinned. Wide. Genuine. The expression looked wrong on his pimpled face. Too confident. Too knowing.
"Real estate."
Lucid stopped walking. "What?"
"Real estate. Property. We buy it. We sell it. We gain reputation as property traders. Build value through transaction velocity rather than accumulated holdings."
Lucid stared at him. Tried to process the absurdity of what he was hearing.
"You are broke. I am broke. How exactly do we buy property?"
"We do not buy it with money. We buy it with promises. Future payment. Contracts. The Domain recognizes debt as inverse wealth. If we can structure enough promised transactions, enough pending deals, we create the appearance of liquidity. Of economic activity."
"That sounds like fraud."
"It is creative accounting." Fenwick's grin widened. "And it works. I have seen it done. Watched others use the technique. The Domain does not care if wealth is real or promised. Only that it exists in some quantifiable form."
Lucid turned away. Started walking the opposite direction.
"Yeah. I am out. Good luck with your creative accounting."
"Wait!"
It was almost comical. A broke nobleman wanting to do real estate with no money. Planning to fraud their way into a divine Domain. The absurdity was impressive.
"What are you? Some con artist?"
For a moment Fenwick's grin shifted. Became something else. Something sharper. More calculating. Then he composed himself. Smoothed his expression back to desperate nobility.
It made Lucid suspicious. That shift. That brief glimpse of something underneath.
'He is hiding something. Playing a role. But which part is real and which is performance?'
Fenwick caught up. Grabbed Lucid's arm, more insistent than aggressive.
"Please. Let me explain properly. The mechanics. How the Domain actually functions. What we would need to do."
Lucid considered to walk away from this clearly terrible plan involving a clearly suspicious person.
But he went with it.
"Fine. Explain. But if this is just more desperation masquerading as strategy I am leaving."
They found a low wall. Sat. Fenwick launched into explanation. The kind of information that came from study rather than experience.
The Domain operated on perception as much as reality. If enough people believed you had wealth, the Domain recognized it. If you could create the appearance of economic activity, of transactions pending, of value flowing, you gained standing.
Real estate worked because property had inherent value. Even worthless property. Even property you did not technically own yet. The promise of ownership. The potential of sale. All of it created economic weight the Domain measured.
Lucid listened. Half his attention on Fenwick's words. Half on Fenwick himself. Watching for tells. For signs of deception or hidden agenda.
As they talked Lucid felt himself lagging. Energy draining. His body was protesting. The resurrection had cost something. Alice had brought him back but not perfectly. Not completely. Something was fundamentally wrong
'The illness. It is worse. Coming back made it worse. I can feel it eating at me from inside.'
He pushed the feeling down. Focused on Fenwick's explanation. On the mechanics of divine economics and creative fraud.
They stood. Started walking again. Fenwick led toward the eastern districts. Away from where Lucid needed to go. Away from the tavern where Arthur and Ayame waited.
'Should turn back. Should leave this alone. Focus on the mission. The relic. Not get distracted by suspicious noblemen and real estate schemes.'
But the auction was tomorrow night. In the Domain. Where he needed a way to enter freely. Where wealth or power determined who moved and who froze.
'Maybe this works. Maybe Fenwick is desperate enough to actually pull off something useful. Maybe I use him and discard him after.'
Lucid lagged behind slightly. His legs were heavy. Each step required more effort than it should. The illness was spreading. Or the resurrection was incomplete. Hard to tell the difference.
Fenwick walked ahead. Oblivious or pretending to be. Talking about property values and transaction timing and how to structure promises that looked like assets.
Something fell from Fenwick's back pocket. Small. Metal. It clattered on cobblestones.
A knife. Simple, a dull plain one. The kind you bought from street vendors or found in markets.
The kind that had been demonstrated in the merchant district by a boy with yellow hair selling Alfheim metal that bent but still cut.
Lucid stopped. Looked at the knife. Looked at Fenwick who had not noticed. Who kept walking. Kept talking.
'Interesting. Very interesting.'
He did not pick up the knife. Did not call attention to it. Just noted its presence. Noted the implications.
Lucid kept walking. Caught up to Fenwick who had finally noticed he was talking to himself. Turned around. Looked confused.
"You stopped. Why?"
"Leg cramp. I am fine now."
"Are you sure? You look pale. Well. Paler. Hard to tell with the mist."
"I am fine. Continue explaining. You were talking about transaction velocity."
Fenwick resumed his explanation. Enthusiastic now.
They walked deeper into the eastern district.
"Here," Fenwick said. Stopped in front of a narrow building. Three stories. Windows broken. Door hanging wrong. "This is one option. Abandoned property. Technically belongs to House Maren but they forgot about it years ago."
"You want to sell property you do not own?"
"I want to create the appearance of owning it. File paperwork. Register intent to purchase. Create pending transaction. The Domain does not verify ownership. Only recognizes economic activity."
"That will work for maybe one day before someone notices."
"One day is all we need. The auction is soon. We create the illusion. Use it to enter the Domain. Complete our actual objective. Then the fraud collapses and we are already gone."
Lucid looked at the building. At the broken windows. At the foundation that was probably compromised. At the structure that would cost more to repair than it was worth.
'Using worthless property to create fake wealth to enter a divine Domain to bid on a relic with money we do not have. This is the stupidest plan I have ever heard.'
He considered walking away. Going back to Arthur and Ayame. Telling them about the auction. Finding a different approach.
But what approach? They were broke. The queen had abandoned them. They had no wealth. No legitimate way to enter the Domain.
'Unless I reveal I am Illuminated. But then Fenwick knows. Then everyone knows. Then I become a target for every faction that wants to use or eliminate someone with power.'
"How long does the paperwork take?" Lucid asked.
Fenwick's expression shifted. Surprise. Hope. Calculation in quick succession.
"Four hours. Maybe less if we bribe the right clerk. We file tonight. By tomorrow evening the transaction exists in official records. The Domain recognizes it. We enter freely."
"And after? When the fraud is discovered?"
"After we either have the relic or we are dead. Either way the fraud becomes irrelevant."
Lucid laughed. Could not help it. The logic was perfect. Terrible but perfect.
"You have done this before. Haven't you? This is not desperate improvisation. This is practiced technique."
Fenwick's mask slipped again. Just for a moment. That sharp grin. That calculating look. Then smooth nobility reasserted itself.
"I have observed it being done. By people more desperate than me. By people willing to risk everything for one chance at changing their circumstances."
"People like the Generous Scoundrel?"
The question hung between them. Weighted. Dangerous.
Fenwick's expression went carefully neutral. "I do not know what you mean."
"Sure you do not." Lucid started walking back the way they came. "File your paperwork. Create your fraud. If it works, I will use it. If it fails, I will find another way."
"And pay you back... tenfold.."
"Where are you going?"
"To tell my companions we are committing real estate fraud tomorrow. They will love that. Especially the knight."
"A knight?! Wait! A knight?"
He stepped forward.
"Wait. We should coordinate. Plan properly."
"You plan. I will show up tomorrow. Eastern pier. When the Domain activates. If your fraud works I will be able to enter. If not I freeze with everyone else."
"That is a terrible plan!"
"It is the only plan we have."
Lucid kept walking. Did not look back. His body was protesting harder now. Each step was effort. The illness or resurrection damage or whatever it was had spread further.
'Need to rest. Need Alice to finish healing whatever is broken. Need to not die again before tomorrow night.'