The tense silence that followed Lyra's admonishment was heavier than any threat the hunters could have offered. The argument had died, but the frustration remained, a poison seeping into the atmosphere of the Inn. One by one, the tenants dispersed to their own corners, retreating into their private anxieties. Borin went to stare into the cold hearth, Anya to her room, and Lyra to the training dummy, her movements now tight with a controlled fury. Silas simply vanished into the shadows of his corner, a silent, brooding presence.
Leo was left alone in the vast lobby, the weight of their collective despair settling on his shoulders. He was the Master. He was the one who had offered them sanctuary. And his sanctuary was failing. Not its walls, but its very essence. A safe house that drives its inhabitants mad with confinement is not a safe house; it is a prettier prison.
He paced the length of the room, his footsteps the only sound. His mind raced, cycling through the problem with a frantic energy. The hunters were a passive threat. They wouldn't attack, so his rules against violence and damages were useless. They were intelligent, so they wouldn't be baited into a foolish move. They were patient, so they could outlast any conventional defense. Their containment field was the true weapon, a cage that was slowly crushing the hope out of everyone inside.
He opened his system menu, his eyes scanning the familiar blue screen for a solution. The [Renovations] tab offered long-term growth, not immediate salvation. There was no "Break Siege" button. There was no "Annihilate Annoying Hunters" feature. He had [Basic Aura Control] and a couple of F-Rank spells from the Grimoire. He couldn't fight his way out. He was, for all intents and purposes, completely stuck.
Frustration coiled in his gut. He had been given this incredible, reality-defying power, this absolute authority, and it was being rendered useless by a group of men who were simply… sitting there. He felt like a king who could command the wind and the rain, but was trapped in a locked room with no windows.
He slammed his hand down on the bar, the sound echoing in the silent hall. Think, Leo, think! he berated himself. He was approaching this all wrong. He was thinking like the hero he wasn't, trying to find a magical solution to a magical problem. But he wasn't a hero. He wasn't a wizard.
He was a real estate agent.
The thought was so mundane, so out of place, that it jolted his entire perspective. He stopped pacing. His mind, which had been fumbling with concepts of magic and combat, defaulted to its original programming. It began to see not a fortress under siege, but a property dispute.
Okay, he thought, his mind suddenly sharp and clear. Let's break this down. What's the issue? A hostile party is preventing access to my property and creating a hostile environment for my tenants. It's a classic case of illegal encroachment and nuisance.
His lips twisted into a wry smile. He was trying to apply property law to a magical siege. It was insane. It was also the only angle he had.
"Guide," he called out to the empty room.
The orb of light appeared instantly, its soft glow a comforting presence.
"I have some questions of a… technical nature," Leo said, choosing his words carefully. "Let's review the terms of my domain."
Proceed, Master.
"The containment field erected by the hunters is outside my fifty-foot property line, correct?"
Correct. Their anchor points lie just beyond your defined domain.
"So my rules cannot directly affect the pylons themselves," Leo reasoned. "However, the effect of their field—the magical pressure, the severing of connections—is intruding upon my property. It is negatively impacting my tenants and my business. Can this be considered a form of 'damage' under my second rule?" He held his breath. If he could charge them Value for running the field, he could bankrupt them.
Negative, the Guide replied, dashing his hopes. Rule #2, the 'Hostile Damage & Liability Clause,' pertains to the compensation for attempted physical or magical destruction of defined assets. The current situation is classified as 'environmental interference' and is not covered.
Of course. A loophole in his own rule. Leo felt a flash of professional respect for the hunters' lawyers, assuming they had them.
"Alright, new question," he said, undeterred. He began to pace again, but this time it was the focused pacing of a lawyer preparing for closing arguments. "You said the Inn exists 'between the folds of reality.' It's a 'Threshold.' Does that mean it is physically anchored to this specific spot in the Greywood Mists?"
The Inn requires a stable anchor point to manifest in a given reality, the Guide explained. The current anchor is strong, but it is not absolute. It is, as you said, a threshold. A doorway.
Leo stopped dead in his tracks. A doorway. Not a house. A doorway. His heart began to hammer against his ribs, but this time it was with the thrill of discovery.
"A doorway can be moved," he whispered to himself. He looked at the Guide, his eyes burning with a new, intense light. "You said the Master defines the parameters of the domain. Does that definition include its point of egress? Its physical location in a host reality?"
The orb of light seemed to pulse a little brighter, as if intrigued by the question. The Master defines the parameters of the domain, it repeated, within the limits of the Inn's available Value. Redefining a primary anchor point would be… energetically expensive.
Expensive. Not impossible.
That was it. That was the key. The beautiful, insane, elegant loophole he had been searching for.
A wide, slightly mad grin spread across Leo's face. The hunters had built a cage around his front door. They had spent a fortune on the lock, the bars, the guards. They had accounted for every possibility, every direct assault, every magical counter-measure.
But they had made one fatal assumption. They assumed the house would still be there in the morning.
He looked around his lobby, at his tenants hiding in their corners, at the oppressive stillness that had taken root. He thought of the hunters sitting outside, patient and smug in their perfect, inescapable trap.
"They built a wall around my property," Leo chuckled, the sound giddy with revelation. "So I'll just move the property."
He didn't know if it would work. The Guide had said it would be expensive. But it was a plan. It was an active, audacious, and completely unexpected strategy. It was the kind of move no one in this world of swords and sorcery would ever see coming.
He strode towards the center of the room, his mind already calculating costs and risks, his heart soaring with the thrill of a hostile takeover. The fear and helplessness were gone, replaced by the familiar, exhilarating rush of a closing deal. The siege wasn't over. But the rules of the game were about to change.