Little by little, the remaining holders began to waver.

The old argument that surrendering a fragment meant weakness became harder to maintain.

If weakness produced that many benefits, then many began wondering whether pride was simply an expensive disease.

Then one morning, the next visitor surprised Lucien.

Not because another Origin Core fragment was offered.

But because of who offered it.

The Duovari Race.

The moment their envoy entered Grand Confluence, the branch stirred.

Even before they introduced themselves, people recognized them.

The Duovari were not numerous compared to the great races of the world, but their name carried weight.

They were the ambidextrous race.

The finest dual wielders in old history.

During the Millennia War, they had been monsters on the battlefield. A true Duovari warrior with two blades could turn a battle line into a massacre.

There were records of Duovari war captains splitting monster waves with paired sword arcs so clean that entire formations collapsed before understanding where the attack had begun.

Then the world changed.

Peace, or something close to it, came.

The Duovari did not vanish.

They adapted.

And in one of history’s stranger jokes, the greatest dual wielders of the old battlefield became the greatest cooks of the new age.

Their two-handed genius entered the kitchen.

Knife and ladle.

Flame and broth.

Blade and seasoning.

Mortar and pan.

They chopped, stirred, carved, infused, folded, and plated with a rhythm no ordinary cook could imitate.

Their battlefield instinct became culinary precision. Their sense for timing turned into perfect heat control. Their ability to read motion became an art of texture, aroma, and spiritual flow.

The result changed food culture across the Big World.

Duovari cuisine was not merely delicious.

It was functional.

Some dishes restored fatigue better than medicine. Some strengthened blood and muscle. Some sharpened spiritual perception for hours. Some helped stabilize breakthroughs. Some tonics could cleanse old internal strain. A few rare recipes were said to grant permanent improvements if prepared by a master.

Food on the level of elixirs.

Sometimes better.

Because pills often forced change into the body.

Duovari food persuaded the body to accept it.

When Lucien heard they had arrived, he straightened at once.

He had wanted to meet them for a long time.

...

The Duovari delegation was brought into the floating city within Grand Confluence.

At their head stood an older Duovari woman with silver-black hair tied neatly behind her back. Two short knives rested at her waist like ceremonial blades.

She bowed.

"Representative Luc."

Lucien smiled and returned the greeting.

"Welcome to Grand Confluence."

Her gaze lingered on him for a breath.

Like many others, she seemed to think he was only a representative.

Lucien did not correct her.

"I am Ilyara of the Duovari Hearth-Clan," she said. "We have come to offer an Origin Core fragment."

Even though Lucien had expected the topic eventually, hearing it from them still made the room quieter.

"And what does the Duovari Hearth-Clan want in return?"

Ilyara looked directly at him.

"Citizenship."

That surprised him.

For a moment, Lucien did not answer.

Citizenship was not the usual request.

Lucien’s interest sharpened.

"Citizenship for how many?"

"Tens of thousands for now," Ilyara said. "More may follow if the first migration settles well."

That was not small.

Lucien leaned back slightly.

"Why?"

Ilyara’s expression did not change, but something behind her eyes grew heavier.

"The world is changing again."

She placed both hands neatly over her lap.

"The Duovari have survived by adapting. We became cooks when swords no longer needed to speak every day. We became healers through food, strengtheners through meals, and merchants through cuisine. But our old instincts have not vanished."

Lucien listened.

Ilyara continued, "Your territory is not simply selling convenience. It is preparing for something. We do not know what. But our elders agree that the air before the storm has changed."

Lucien’s eyes deepened.

The Duovaris were very perceptive.

"That is a serious decision," Lucien said. "Citizenship is not the same as alliance. If you enter Lootwell, you follow Lootwell’s laws."

"We understand."

"You will be protected, but you will also be bound by conduct."

"We understand."

"You may keep your traditions, cuisine, arts, and clan structure, so long as they do not contradict Lootwell’s rules."

"We expected that."

Lucien studied her for a moment.

Then said, "There will be assessment."

Ilyara nodded.

"Of course."

Lucien liked her more.

The procedures began.

And the Duovari passed.

Their colors under Divine Sense were good.

They would fit.

When the preliminary acceptance was finished, Lucien looked at Ilyara again.

"There is one more request."

Her brows lifted.

"We are already offering a fragment."

"This is not part of the payment," Lucien said. "This is something I personally hope for."

That made her more attentive.

Lucien smiled.

"I would like some of your people to teach disciples."

The Duovari delegation went still.

Lucien continued, "Not only cooking. Though I want that too. I want your dual wielding arts taught to those suited for them."

Ilyara stared at him.

Then her smile widened slowly.

"You remember what we were."

"I never forgot what your race was capable of."

The atmosphere changed.

The Duovari behind her straightened.

For a race whose modern fame had become cuisine, being remembered as warriors was not a small thing.

Ilyara looked at him with new approval.

"You want our blades as much as our kitchens."

"Yes."

"Good," she said.

Then, without hesitation, she nodded.

"We agree."

Lucien almost laughed.

The negotiation ended faster than many trade discussions over salted herbs.

And just like that, Lootwell gained tens of thousands of Duovari.

The Origin Core fragment would be surrendered.

The Duovari would be settled first in Grand Confluence, then through approved districts in the main territory and branches.

Their chefs would enter Lootwell’s culinary halls.

Their combat instructors would begin selecting students.

Ronan came to Lucien’s mind immediately. He has the bloodline of Duovaris.

Finally, someone who could push his dual wielding properly.

Anya and Sinep too.

Their cooking skills would benefit enormously from Duovari instruction.

Lucien could already imagine the changes.

The Duovari presence would change Lootwell again.

As every good addition did.

•••

The Duovari decision caused another wave.

A race, not merely a faction, had chosen citizenship.

When the news spread, many clans began reconsidering their position.

Some wanted to join Grand Confluence directly.

Some wanted greater benefits in exchange for fragments.

Lucien answered all of them with the same fairness.

The terms did not change simply because more people asked loudly.

Origin Core fragments received fair value.

Deep alliance had standards.

Citizenship had standards.

And no one could purchase Lootwell’s trust by waving a treasure while hiding rotten conduct behind their backs.

Several groups tried to negotiate extra privileges because of their bloodline, history, or wealth.

Lucien refused.

One clan elder said carefully, "The Duovari received citizenship."

Lucien answered, "Because they passed evaluation."

"We also possess an Origin Core fragment."

"That can be exchanged for alliance benefits."

The elder frowned.

"Then citizenship is not guaranteed?"

"No."

The hall went quiet.

Lucien looked at him calmly.

"Lootwell is not a storage house that accepts anyone who pays rent. If you want citizenship, your people must fit the standards."

The elder’s expression stiffened.

Eirene, standing nearby, added gently, "You are welcome to apply."

Some yielded.

Some withdrew.

Some became offended.

Some pretended to be offended while secretly preparing better applications.

That was fine.

Lucien did not mind waiting.

The pressure was already working.

Those who refused now would likely return later.

On Lootwell’s terms.

Not because Lucien forced them to kneel.

Because the world around them would continue changing until standing outside the system became less comfortable than joining it.

That was patience.

And patience, when supported by overwhelming benefits, became one of the gentlest forms of conquest.

•••

Then came the report from the Shadow Information Network.

The classification was strange enough that Lucien opened it immediately.

[Origin Core Fragment Acquired.]

Lucien paused.

Then read the sender.

Robin. The Phantom Thief.

Lucien stared.

Then opened the full report.

Robin had infiltrated one of the evil sects suspected of holding an Origin Core fragment.

His mission had been observation, internal mapping, vault verification, and identification of useful weaknesses.

Apparently, Robin had interpreted "useful weaknesses" with enthusiasm.

He had found the fragment.

Then stolen it.

Without being detected.

Lucien leaned back slowly.

Elias, who was nearby, noticed his expression.

"What happened, Young Lord?"

Lucien handed him the report.

Elias read it.

Then went silent.

"Robin has become reckless... and impressive."

Lucien muttered, "That is one way to say insane."

Robin had entered through the sect’s supply routes under a false servant identity. From there, he mapped the inner corridors, identified the vault’s actual location, and entered the vault during a rotating incense purification cycle.

Then he replaced the Origin Core fragment with a weighted fake containing a delayed dulling charm.

The fake did not need to fool the sect forever.

Only long enough for Robin to leave.

It fooled them for three days.

The sect did not realize the fragment had been stolen until an elder attempted to check the vault personally.

By then, Robin had already vanished.

Lucien read that part twice.

Then laughed once.

The sect had fallen into chaos.

No one knew Robin had done it.

That was the most absurd part.

Not a single person suspected an outside thief.

Instead, the sect began blaming itself.

And Robin, apparently unwilling to let chaos go to waste, had nudged the narrative before leaving.

A rumor had been planted.

An elder had stolen the Origin Core fragment to offer it to Grand Confluence in exchange for protection and benefits.

The timing made it believable because several elders had left the sect shortly before the theft was discovered.

Those elders were not involved.

Probably.

But the sect did not know that.

Panic spread internally.

The sect master sealed the halls and tried to suppress the rumors.

Unfortunately, communication devices existed now.

A disciple whispered into one.

A servant copied the story.

A junior elder sent a private warning to a cousin in another faction.

A merchant attached to the sect heard enough and told someone else.

Within a day, the rumor escaped the sect.

Within two, it reached the communication device’s rumor boards.

Within three, several discussion channels were openly debating whether evil sect elders were now defecting to Lootwell with fragments.

The sect’s reputation began collapsing.

People laughed.

Then speculated.

Then asked an even worse question.

If the evil sect’s own elders thought the fragment was better offered to Lootwell, what did that say about the sect?

The sect master was reportedly furious enough to destroy half of his own council chamber.

Lucien read the summary and shook his head.

"That is vicious."

•••

The incident became famous quickly.

And strangely, Grand Confluence was not blamed.

That told Lucien more than the rumor itself.

No one truly believed Lootwell needed to steal from an evil sect in such a petty way.

Grand Confluence’s reputation had already become too large for that kind of suspicion to stick easily.

The idea that Grand Confluence would send a thief sounded almost insulting to its current image.

That, Lucien thought, was both useful and hilarious.

Of course, the Shadow Information Network buried any dangerous direction the rumor might have taken.

They did not erase the story.

They guided it.

The narrative settled into a simple shape.

A corrupt sect had lost control of its own internal loyalty because the benefits of Grand Confluence were too tempting.

Whether true or not, it sounded believable.

And because it sounded believable, it became useful.

The evil sect’s enemies began mocking them.

Neutral factions questioned their stability.

Hidden fragment holders became more anxious.

And several other factions suddenly opened formal talks with Grand Confluence, as if afraid their own elders might develop entrepreneurial thoughts.

Lucien stared at the political ripple and sighed.

"Robin accidentally created pressure."

Eirene replied, "It may not have been accidental."

That made Lucien pause.

Then he laughed softly.

Perhaps not.

•••

Robin came to one of the smaller Grand Confluence branches five days later.

When Lucien entered, Robin dropped lightly to the floor.

He had changed.

The boy who had once stolen money from his Uncle Edric was still there somewhere.

But he was no longer only that boy.

He stood taller now.

His smile remained mischievous, but it had gained confidence. His eyes were brighter, steadier, and sharper. His aura did not feel heavy. That was the dangerous part. It felt light enough to be missed.

Robin held out a sealed box.

"Delivery, Young Lord."

Lucien looked at him.

Then at the box.

Elias, standing beside Lucien, closed his eyes briefly.

Lucien took the box and opened it.

Inside lay the stolen fragment.

"How did you avoid detection for three days?"

Robin’s smile widened.

"I did not avoid detection for three days."

Lucien narrowed his eyes.

Robin said, "I avoided detection forever. They detected the absence of the fragment."

Lucien stared.

Then, despite himself, laughed.

Lucien looked at the fragment again.

In truth, he did not want evil sects as allies.

Not the ones whose foundations were built on cruelty, corpse arts, sacrifice, slavery, or corruption. If they surrendered fragments willingly and sought reform, that was one matter. But partnering with them as they were would stain Lootwell’s own standards.

Robin stealing from them solved a problem.

Still, Lucien would not encourage recklessness without limits.

"You did well," Lucien said.

Robin’s eyes lit up slightly.

"But do not confuse success with permission to gamble blindly."

Robin straightened.

"Of course, Young Lord."

•••

That month’s total became five fragments.

When the last fragment merged into the Origin Core Shrine, the pulse deepened again.

Seventy fragments.

The incomplete mass brightened in slow waves.

The work ahead was still enormous.

But the path had become clearer.

He would gather the fragments.

He would connect the continents.

He would strengthen the world before the next calamity learned how ready it was allowed to be.

Lootwell was no longer asking the world to change.

The world was changing around Lootwell.

And those who refused to move would soon discover that stillness was not the same as safety.