THE DIMENSIONAL MERCHANT

The Witch nodded. "Yes. Daniel Saito. He has kept it hidden until the time was right. And the time is now."

Kael took a step forward. "Where is he?"

The Witch lifted her hand. The air shimmered.

"You will see."

The glow around her palm expanded, forming a thin circle of light, brighter and sharper than Kael's own portal. The air smelled of cedar and ink, not forest moss. Through the circle he glimpsed shelves, glass, and the faint glimmer of city lights at night.

The Witch's voice was calm, steady, final. "Go. Collect what was promised to you. The debt ends tonight."

Kael looked once at the ring on his finger. Then he stepped forward.

The light swallowed him whole.

The air shifted at once—humid, sharp with the smell of paper and ink. The floor beneath his boots was smooth wood, not forest soil.

He stood inside an office.

The room was wide, lined with shelves of books and files. A glass window stretched across the far wall, showing the dark skyline of Zhao City beyond. Towers of steel and glass glimmered faintly under neon lights. The hum of distant traffic echoed faintly, muffled by glass.

At the desk sat a man.

Daniel Saito looked up from his papers. He was older now—hair graying at the temples, lines cut deep around his mouth and eyes. But his posture was straight, his gaze sharp. He set his pen down slowly.

"I wondered how long it would take," Saito said. His voice was calm, neither surprised nor shaken. "You look like him."

Kael didn't answer. He stepped closer, the blue ring glinting faintly in the lamplight.

Saito's eyes flicked to it at once. "Ah. So she gave you the path."

Kael stopped on the other side of the desk. "You have something that belongs to me."

Saito leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. "Not to you. To Theodore. And I kept it because he asked me to. You think you're the first Lancaster to come searching? No. But you're the first he would have wanted."

He reached into a drawer. From inside, he drew out a long, flat envelope—old, yellowed, sealed with a strip of wax. He set it carefully on the desk between them.

"This," Saito said, "is the true Will of Theodore Lancaster."

Kael stared at it. His throat felt dry.

"He gave it to me many years ago," Saito continued, "because he knew what his death would bring. Your family's greed. Your uncle's schemes. Damian's failures. Eric's ambition. He knew they would all tear each other apart over scraps of inheritance. So he left me this. And he told me: 'Do not release it until the one who carries the ring comes to you himself.'"

Kael reached forward slowly. His fingers brushed the envelope. The wax seal bore the same pattern he had seen in the Witch's chamber—the ring of small squares, the crescent inside.

"Read it," Saito said.

Kael broke the seal and unfolded the pages. The handwriting was familiar. His grandfather's hand.

It was short. Clear.

He left everything—estates, accounts, rights, and lands—not to the family as divided shares, not to the council to argue, but to a single name. Kael.

Not as heir in the usual sense, but as keeper. The words were careful. The property was entrusted, not owned. The wealth was meant to build, not to squander.

Kael's chest tightened as he read the final line.

"To Kael Lancaster, who will walk farther than I ever could. Protect the doors. Protect the promise."

His hands closed around the pages.

Saito's eyes studied him quietly. "Now you see. You were never meant to be another Lancaster noble. You were meant to continue his work. To carry the weight of the keys. That's why he gave you the ring. Why the Witch recognized you."

Kael folded the Will again, slipping it into his coat. His voice was steady now. "And the rest of them?"

"They'll keep fighting," Saito said dryly. "They'll accuse, betray, and spend. But it won't matter. Legally, this ends it. You are the true heir. No court can argue against it. Not when the seal of the Ancients is on the page."

Kael nodded once.

Silence filled the office. The neon glow from the window cut across Saito's face, shadowing one side.

"You don't seem surprised," Kael said.

Saito gave a faint smile. "I worked beside your grandfather for years. He was a difficult man to follow. But when he believed in something, he never wavered. He told me once that his legacy was not the land, not the coin, not the name. It was the bridge. The path between worlds. And now… it's yours."

Kael's hand brushed the ring unconsciously.

Saito leaned forward slightly. "The Witch has her debts. I have mine. My part is done. Yours begins now. Build something with it. Don't waste it the way your uncles wasted theirs."

Kael held his gaze. Then he gave a single, slow nod. "I will."

The room was quiet again. Only the faint hum of the city outside filled the silence.

Kael turned toward the circle of light that still lingered faintly in the air behind him. It shimmered softly, waiting.

Before he stepped through, Saito's voice came one last time.

"Kael."

He looked back.

Saito's eyes were steady, almost tired, but firm. "Remember this. Power means nothing if you forget why you hold it. Your grandfather never forgot. Neither should you."

Kael said nothing. He stepped into the light.

The circle closed.

The Witch's house folded back around him. The air smelled of cedar and rain once more. She stood by the table, watching him.

"You have it?" she asked.

Kael placed a hand over his coat. "Yes."

She gave a slow nod. "Then the promise is fulfilled. His line continues."

Outside, the forest whispered. The blue lights drifted once more between the roots, faint and patient, like watchers waiting for their next command.

Kael stood in the Witch's cottage, the Will of his grandfather in his coat, the ring of the Ancients on his hand.

For the first time, he felt not just like a merchant, but the heir of something older. Something that reached beyond kingdoms, beyond empires, beyond even this world.

The End