City of Desire: Chapter 584 Harrick’s Pub

Proofread By Thomas F

I watched the other ships sailing away from the port of Hyriv. Unlike my yacht, they didn’t stop.

My sister and others are leaving.

The new legacy is interesting, but there are responsibilities waiting for them, especially for my sister and Baron Husk; their territories had just fought a huge battle against the monsters.

The monsters had only retreated and seemed to be preparing for another attack.

The brigade, under Colonel Axseer's leadership, will remain there to assist with the situation.

They aren’t the only people who left. Even my people departed. Margaux, Varza, and others.

“I am surprised. You didn’t leave,” I said to Eva as we walked toward the carriage.

Led by the son of Viscount Lost. The lord of the city and surrounding territories.

Today is the luckiest day of their lives. The legacy was born in their territory.

While the majority of the essence flows to the Sovereign, a small percentage of it is directed to the lord. Even this fraction grants them significant power, enhancing their power beyond ordinary limits.

Not to mention the tremendous economic boost that comes with it. Tourism and investments will pour in, as legacies are magnets for both wealth and prestige.

“The legacies interest me. I’ve dreamed about them since I opened my first store,” Eva replied, her voice filled with both nostalgia and ambition.

I wanted to say, ‘Who doesn’t?’ Instead, I just smiled. Every business owner wants their business to become a legacy. It is a golden ticket that will keep them prospering all their lives.

Soon, we reached the carriage, and the door opened before we stepped inside.

“I am surprised by Synod’s quickness, Lord Silver. It hadn’t been two hours since the legacy was born, and they had already sent you,” said the man before me.

He is a man in his mid-twenties with green hair, green eyes, and a square jaw that anyone would dream of.

“It’s not a surprise, Lord Lost. That’s the reason they sent me; I was closer. Closer than Lord Castle of Circus,” I replied, and the man smiled.

We talked as the carriage moved into the city.

The city itself isn’t particularly remarkable; in fact, one might even call it poor. I can only hope the lord makes great use of this golden opportunity that has fallen into his lap.

Legacies don’t just provide essence—they bring so much more.

Legacies are beacons. They attract wealthy individuals, an influx of tourists, and countless other opportunities that transform a city, enriching it with money and culture.

That’s precisely why I make full use of my legacy, leveraging it for everything it can offer me.

A few minutes later, the carriages moved into the area, where the streets were narrow, and the houses were packed together.

It is a working-class area.

The legacy's impact was already visible. Soldiers were stationed at every corner while civilians hurriedly cleaned the streets. Guards patrolled in numbers, shoving people back into their homes.

Seeing all this, I couldn’t help but sigh.

The man beside me noticed the change in my expression but said nothing. There was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes, questions he clearly wanted to ask, but he chose to stay silent.

I wasn’t about to volunteer my thoughts. Besides, the young lord wouldn’t appreciate it if I shared what was on my mind.

"What is that sigh about?" Eva asked in my mind. She wasn’t one to hold back when it came to asking questions.

It wasn’t a skill that allowed her to communicate this way, but a spell. She had the ability to cast spells, though only the basic ones.

‘The thing that dooms most legacies. Keeping them from advancing to Grade IV and above had already started happening,’ I replied.

‘Why do you say that?’ she asked with an apparent surprise reflected in her voice.

“You know why 90% of legacies never exceed Grade III?” I asked.

“I’ve heard many answers to that,” she replied, the interest clear in her tone.

“I have a few theories of my own,” I said, glancing out the window. Outside, I spotted a mage filling a pothole—not typically their job, but they were doing it as a quick fix.

“What are they?” she asked after a brief moment of silence.

“Most legacies reach Grade III as long as they survive for a few decades, but only a select few manage to advance to Grade IV,” I began.

“Because the initial vision that birthed them changes so drastically,” I replied.

“Explain,” she urged.

“Take this legacy, for example—it’s clearly in the working district.”

“In an instant, the value of the property around the legacy skyrockets. From tomorrow, even today, the rich and powerful will use any means, from money to threats, to buy it.”

“Within a month, this entire area will be completely transformed. Just like the clientele of the legacy.”

“The pub's clientele, once made up of working-class people, will now be replaced by the rich and powerful.”

‘Slowly, the pub’s staff will change, and so will the glasses and plates they serve the food with.’

‘The new staff will come, that will be proficient in serving the rich and powerful while working-class people that had been its clientele will not even be able to see the door,’

‘Its glasses will be of crystals, and plates will be high-porcelain. Everything that birthed it will slowly disappear until it changes completely from what had given birth to it,’ I replied.

‘So, legacies shouldn’t change?’ she asked.

I wanted to shake my head, but seeing there were others. I decided to use only the words.

‘No, they should, but they shouldn't change the core of their identity,” I replied.

‘Take my legacy. It is different than when I had conceived it. I didn’t change my staff, but I upskilled them through training,’

‘The same with the menu; I still serve more than half of the dishes I used to during the conceiving period,’

‘But I also changed many things, like the furniture, plates and glasses. Not to mention added new things like your store,’

‘My vision is continuously evolving, but its essence remains unchanged,’ I explained.

"It seems like the legacies are a lot more complex than I had thought," she replied, her tone reflecting a mix of surprise and newfound understanding.

Most people think the legacies are just essence-making machines that only the rich and powerful can enjoy. They are those things, but they aren’t only those things.

Many things go on internally, and most are out of the Master’s control.

Even at this stage, reaching Grade III, I still don’t adequately understand my legacy, but I try to understand it more every day.

“We have arrived,” said the man as the carriage stopped.

A moment later, the door opened, and we got out.

In front of me is a pub. It is a two-story stone building with a cozy cottage-like look.

It has a wooden sign with a figure of a chicken, which looks faded.

It is like any other pub in a working-class district, but it has become a legacy—. Even the faded sign looked beautiful, with a barely visible mist lingering around it.

I looked around it and saw mages demolishing the surrounding buildings.

One man is crying loudly while being held back by his wife as they destroy what seems to be his store.

This time, I wasn’t able to stop my head from shaking.

These sorts of things happen when a legacy is born. Everything around it changes, and many people pay the price for that.

‘I hope they will offer a fair compensation for it at the least,’ I thought as I moved toward the door.

Click!

Soon, we reached the door, and it opened immediately.

A man appeared. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, with sandy brown hair and green eyes, and he looked overwhelmed.

He seemed to be wearing a new suit that didn’t fit him well, and he looked awkward and out of his element.

“Lord Lost,” the man greeted the man beside him with an unpractised and deeper-than-required bow before turning to me.

“Lord Silver,” said the man, once again, bowed awkwardly.

“Lord Harrick,” I greeted the man, the master of this legacy—the Harrick’s Pub.

He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, seeing that he was keeping us standing at the door.

“Please, come in,” he invited us hastily.

When I stepped inside, I immediately felt the power of the legacy, along with the signature colorful mist.

I closed my eyes for a moment to feel it more clearly.

Every legacy has a signature.

I could feel the merriness, mix in the wildness of dance and comfort of homeliness.

I opened my eyes and saw a well-worm pub with walls laden with worn paintings and trophies that the patrons had given it over time when they couldn’t pay with money.

There are many things here, including a fireplace I could barely see.

This place was packed with the overwhelmed staff doing everything they could to serve the clients.

It must have a capacity of fifty people, but there are at least a hundred right now. All of them were well-dressed, not the everyday folks that had been patrons of this place.

I am sure, until a few hours ago. Not one of these people had taken a step into this pub and even raised their noses high at the prospect of it.

Even after the transformation into a legacy, some people still look down on it.

Though right now, they all have turned to us, or rather me, with many having recognition flashing across their eyes.

I nodded at them before walking toward the booth, which was being guarded.

I would rather talk to the Master, but it is the noble. I have to deal with him first.

They are parasites for the legacies, one of the biggest thorns in its path to progress, but it is the way of the world, and not even titans and spirits with all their power were able to change that.