Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 41: Trouble in Veldrath

As they arrived in the bustling city of Veldrath, the atmosphere shifted. The streets were packed with merchants, travelers, and city guards, the air thick with the scent of spices, roasted meat, and the ever-present hint of dust. It was a stark contrast to the quiet town they had just left. However, their destination was clear—the merchant they were escorting had business to attend to.

The group rode through the winding streets until they reached a large trading post near the city square. The merchant finally came to a stop in front of a lavish building, where a group of well-dressed men stood waiting. At the center of them was a rather pompous-looking man, dressed in fine silks and adorned with gold rings on each of his fingers. His presence alone screamed wealth and power, and the moment he saw the merchant, his expression darkened with irritation.

"You’re late," the man said, his tone laced with disappointment and anger. His arms were folded across his chest as he stared down at the merchant like an unruly servant. "Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for these goods? Time is money, and you’ve wasted plenty of mine!"

The merchant, looking weary from the journey, immediately bowed his head. "My deepest apologies, sir. We ran into some unforeseen circumstances on the road. Bandits attacked us, and one of my escorts was gravely wounded. We had no choice but to stop and seek medical attention."

The rich man let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes as if he had heard the worst excuse imaginable. "Unforeseen circumstances?" He scoffed. "I don’t give a damn about your troubles, old man. I run a business, not a charity. Your problems are not my concern."

The group, standing a few feet away, watched the exchange in silence. Marcus clenched his fists, his temper already flaring at the man’s lack of empathy. Eleanor and Sophia exchanged uneasy glances, while Jason simply leaned against his horse, observing the situation.

The merchant tried again, his voice pleading. "Sir, please... You know I’ve always been reliable. I’ve made every delivery on time except for this one. If you’d just consider—"

"Enough!" The man cut him off sharply. "If you think I’m going to pay full price for late goods, you must be out of your mind. Consider yourself lucky I’m still willing to buy them at all. You’ll take half of what was promised, or you can take your merchandise elsewhere—though I doubt anyone else will pay more."

The merchant’s face fell. Half the price? That was practically robbery. He would barely make any profit—if anything, he might even suffer a loss. He looked at the crates of goods in his cart, his hands trembling slightly.

"But... sir, I won’t even break even at that price. I’ll be ruined."

"Not my problem," the man said coldly. "You made a deal. You failed to deliver on time. And I don’t reward failure."

Jason let out a low whistle. "Damn. Guy’s ruthless."

Sophia’s brows furrowed with frustration. "This isn’t right."

Eleanor, studied the rich man carefully. "He holds a lot of influence here. Challenging him directly might not be wise."

Marcus scoffed. "So what? We’re just gonna let him screw over the old man like this?"

At that moment, footsteps approached.

Liam had been lingering at the back, taking his time as he adjusted to being back on his feet. He had only just walked up when he caught the tail end of the conversation. His sharp eyes immediately noticed the merchant’s hunched shoulders, the subtle tremble in his hands, and the desperation in his voice.

And then there was the rich man—standing there smugly, completely unfazed, treating the merchant’s hardships as nothing more than an inconvenience.

Liam’s jaw tightened.

"I don’t give a fuck about you, your escort, or whoever almost died," the rich man continued, waving his hand dismissively. "You failed, and you’ll take what I’m offering. Otherwise, get lost."

Liam had heard enough.

His boots hit the stone pavement as he stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension. "That’s quite the attitude you’ve got there."

The rich man turned, his expression shifting from indifference to mild curiosity as he sized up Liam. He took in the worn but sturdy clothing, the sword at his side, and the unwavering look in his eyes. "And you are?"

Liam didn’t answer right away. He simply stopped next to the merchant, standing tall beside him. He glanced at the older man and saw the silent plea in his eyes.

Then, he turned his attention back to the rich man, his voice calm but firm.

"Someone who doesn’t like seeing decent people get screwed over."

Lord Davos threw his head back and laughed, his jeweled rings glinting under the morning light as his stomach shook with amusement. The men around him chuckled as well, as if Liam had just told the greatest joke they’d ever heard.

"You?" Davos sneered, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "You think you can tell me what to do? Do you even know who I am, boy?"

Liam didn’t flinch. His face remained calm, his eyes locked onto the arrogant noble with an intensity that sent a subtle chill through the air.

"I know exactly who you are," Liam said, his voice steady. "You’re the kind of man who preys on others because you have wealth and status. The kind who thinks power comes from coins instead of character."

Davos’s laughter died instantly, his expression twisting into something darker. His amusement was replaced with clear irritation. He stepped forward, getting close to Liam, looking him up and down with a condescending smirk.

"You’re nothing," Davos spat. "A common sellsword who thinks he’s important because he can swing a blade. Men like you are disposable. I could have you thrown into the dungeons right now, and no one would even care."

Liam didn’t react to the words. He only took a slow step forward, closing the distance between them, his body language relaxed but unmistakably confident. "Buy the goods for the agreed price," Liam repeated, his tone cool and unwavering. "This isn’t even a debate."

Davos scoffed, his lip curling. "You think you can order me around? Do you know how many people would kill to be in my good graces? And you? You’re a nobody. Just another piece of dirt on my boots."

Behind Liam, the merchant subtly shook his head, signaling for him to back off. The older man’s expression was filled with worry—he knew Davos was powerful, and provoking him could spell disaster.

But Liam wasn’t backing down.

He took another deliberate step forward, his voice dropping lower, carrying an edge of danger beneath its calm surface. "You’re going to pay the full price," he said again, his words sharper this time. "Not because I’m asking. Because you will."

Davos’s expression shifted. For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Liam’s presence was different from the usual mercenaries and desperate merchants he bullied. There was something unshakable in his eyes—something dangerous.

But rather than backing down, Davos’s pride flared. He refused to be disrespected in front of his men.

"You dare to threaten me?" he snarled. His hand snapped into the air, and his voice rang with authority. "Guards! Teach this arrogant fool a lesson."

Immediately, the armored guards around the trading post reacted, moving swiftly to encircle Liam. They were trained enforcers, not common city watchmen—men who had likely crushed their fair share of troublemakers under Davos’s orders. Their polished armor clanked as they closed in, hands resting on their weapons.

The group, still standing by the horses, tensed. Marcus straightened up, his fingers twitching toward his sword. Jason narrowed his eyes, and Sophia clenched her fists.

Liam remained completely still as the guards surrounded him, his stance unchanged, his gaze still fixed on Davos.

Davos smirked. "You should’ve walked away while you had the chance."

But Liam just exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders, his muscles loosening. He glanced at the guards, counting them—five in total. Their movements were disciplined, but their confidence was misplaced.

Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he smirked.

"You should’ve kept your gold."

As soon as the guards moved in to subdue Liam, the rest of the group sprang into action without hesitation.

Marcus cracked his knuckles with a grin. "You think we’re just gonna stand back and watch?" he scoffed, stepping up beside Liam.

Sophia slid into position next to him, her daggers gleaming in the sunlight. "You really should’ve just paid the full price," she said, her voice calm but laced with a dangerous edge.

Eleanor was already moving, positioning herself slightly behind Liam, her eyes sharp as she analyzed the guards’ formation. "Five of them. Standard combat stances. They’re trained, but we’ve fought worse," she murmured.

Jason, standing off to the side, sighed and pulled out his golden staff. "Diplomacy? No? Alright then," he muttered, shaking his head.

The guards, who had expected to deal with just one person, hesitated for a brief moment as they realized they were now facing a coordinated group of fighters.

Liam’s smirk deepened. "You should’ve walked away."