In the center of Helmarte was the business district. Buildings that rise to four to five stories were here and there. And the road was smooth compared to the outer district of the capital city as the road is paved of cobblestone and it was clean as there were cleaners regularly removing horse dung while uniformed city workers pushed wooden carts filled with waste toward collection areas near the drainage canals.

Compared to the outer districts where Ernest and his family lived, this part of Helmarte almost felt like another world entirely.

Large merchant banners hung from upper floors while polished glass windows displayed imported goods, jewelry, fabrics, spices, and expensive furniture.

Horse-drawn carriages moved constantly across the roads.

Not simple farmer wagons either.

Actual luxury carriages.

Some painted black with golden trims.

Others carried noble insignias on their doors.

Meanwhile well-dressed merchants walked through the district confidently while discussing trade, contracts, and shipments with assistants following behind them carrying parchment cases and ledgers.

Honestly, the entire area reminded Ernest heavily of financial districts from his previous world.

Not technologically obviously.

But economically.

This was where money flowed.

Where trade happened.

Where influence gathered.

And standing beside him, Hollen looked completely comfortable here.

The forge owner walked calmly through the crowded business streets while wearing one of his better outfits today.

Dark coat.

Clean leather boots.

Silver buttons.

Actually, Ernest noticed something interesting immediately.

People greeted Hollen respectfully here.

Not fearfully.

Not arrogantly.

Respectfully.

Several merchants nodded toward him while passing by.

"Master Hollen."

"Morning, Hollen."

"Good to see you again."

Connections.

The man clearly possessed status inside Helmarte’s commercial circles.

Meanwhile Ernest followed beside him wearing newly purchased clothes that honestly still felt strange against his skin.

A proper dark vest.

Clean linen shirt.

Dark trousers.

Even leather shoes.

Nothing luxurious compared to nobles obviously.

But compared to the soot-covered forge clothes he wore before?

The difference felt massive.

"So, where’s the merchant guild?" Ernest asked.

"It’s right there in the corner," Hollen pointed toward a massive stone building standing prominently at the far end of the avenue.

The Merchant Guild headquarters.

Even from a distance, the structure immediately stood out from every other establishment nearby.

Tall stone walls.

Massive arched windows.

Bronze banners displaying the guild crest hanging from iron poles.

And unlike ordinary businesses, armed guards stood outside the entrance wearing dark blue uniforms with polished breastplates bearing the emblem of the guild.

Scales and coin.

Honestly, the place looked less like a commercial office and more like a government institution mixed with a bank.

Which actually made sense.

According to Hollen, the Merchant Guild controlled enormous parts of the kingdom’s commerce.

Trade permits.

Business registration.

Distribution rights.

Commercial disputes.

Taxes.

Influence.

A powerful merchant organization in a medieval capital city naturally evolved into something resembling an economic authority.

As Ernest and Hollen approached the entrance, several carriages stood parked outside already.

Merchants entered and exited constantly while workers carried crates, ledgers, and sealed documents through the main doors.

The entire place radiated activity.

Money activity.

The kind of place where fortunes were made and destroyed.

"Stay close and don’t speak too much unless necessary," Hollen muttered quietly while walking toward the entrance.

Ernest nodded once.

The guards near the entrance immediately recognized Hollen.

"Master Hollen," one of them greeted respectfully while stepping aside.

The forge owner gave a small nod before continuing inside.

The moment Ernest entered the Merchant Guild headquarters, he immediately noticed the difference compared to the forge.

The interior was enormous.

Polished stone floors reflected sunlight entering through the tall windows above.

Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

Multiple reception counters stretched across the front hall while clerks rapidly processed documents, counted coins, and handled merchant requests.

People moved everywhere.

Merchants arguing over contracts.

Assistants carrying parchment stacks.

Messengers rushing between offices.

Workers transporting crates with guild seals burned into the wood.

Actually, the place reminded Ernest heavily of corporate office lobbies from his previous life.

Not visually.

But organizationally.

This place operated like an economic machine.

And unlike the outer districts of Helmarte where survival dominated daily life, the people here looked wealthy.

Expensive coats.

Jewelry.

Perfume.

Clean hands.

Some merchants even carried small entourages behind them.

Influence was visible here.

Hollen however walked through the massive hall calmly like he belonged there.

Because he did.

Several people greeted him while passing by.

"Master Hollen."

"Hollen, good to see you."

"Your latest iron shipment arrived yesterday."

Connections again.

The forge owner clearly possessed a solid reputation inside the commercial sector of Helmarte.

Eventually they arrived before one of the larger reception counters near the center of the hall.

Behind it sat a woman wearing formal guild attire consisting of a dark blue vest with silver embroidery.

Unlike ordinary clerks Ernest saw elsewhere, this receptionist carried herself with practiced professionalism.

The moment she noticed Hollen, her expression immediately became more respectful.

"Master Hollen," she greeted politely. "What can the Merchant Guild assist you with today?"

Hollen rested one arm lightly atop the counter.

"I’d like to request a meeting with Guildmaster Laurent."

The receptionist blinked once slightly.

Actually, even Ernest noticed the subtle shift immediately.

Because apparently requesting the Guildmaster directly was not something ordinary merchants casually did.

Still, the woman maintained her composure professionally.

"Do you have an appointment scheduled?"

"No."

Hollen calmly reached into his coat afterward before pulling out a folded parchment bearing his merchant seal.

"But I believe this matter qualifies as significant enough to warrant immediate attention."

The receptionist accepted the parchment carefully before quickly scanning its contents.

The moment her eyes moved lower down the page, her expression subtly changed.

Interest.

Real interest.

She looked toward Ernest briefly afterward.

Then back toward Hollen.

"...A manufacturing registration proposal?"

"Yes."

The receptionist lowered her voice slightly afterward.

"With projected industrial expansion?"

Hollen nodded once.

Now even Ernest became slightly curious about what exactly Hollen wrote in the preliminary request.

Because judging from her reaction, the forge owner clearly framed the proposal seriously.

Very seriously.

The receptionist quickly stood afterward.

"One moment please."

She disappeared through a side doorway carrying the parchment while Hollen remained calm beside the counter.

Meanwhile Ernest quietly observed the headquarters around him again.

The more he looked, the more obvious the guild’s power became.

This was not merely a merchant association.

This was an institution.

One wealthy enough to influence entire industries.

Then suddenly Hollen spoke quietly beside him.

"You notice something?"

"What?"

"The people here."

Ernest looked around again.

Merchants.

Clerks.

Assistants.

Officials.

"...They all look important."

"Because most of them are."

Hollen folded his arms afterward.

"In Helmarte, money and influence move through this building."

Then the forge owner glanced toward the upper floors.

"And today, we’re about to ask them for permission to build an entirely new industry."