Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Corvein Merchant Company
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"My lord, we've received an urgent message from the southern fortress."
"Hm?"
I had suddenly become engrossed in magic circle research.
I spent my time crafting over a dozen mana concentrators, devising new mana circuit diagrams to apply to the Dravit, and creating long-range mana communication orbs to distribute to each castle and fortress.
It had been about half a month like this, since the orcs and Temir bastards hadn't made any aggressive moves yet.
Derbal, who was busy handling all sorts of matters every day, entered the office with a grave expression.
"What's going on?"
The magic circle wall was tantalizingly close to being solved, yet mysteriously nagging at my nerves.
Having finally grasped a clue after so long, I wasn't easily distracted by just anything.
"The Corvein Merchant Company is on its way."
"Corvein? That Corvein Merchant Company, the greatest on the continent? Why?"
I was plenty familiar with the Corvein Merchant Company.
The continent's massive merchant groups, guaranteed safe passage between empires and kingdoms for trade, were known as the Five Great Merchant Companies.
And among them, the one with the most vigorous activity and influence was Corvein.
"From what we've learned, it seems they'll pass through the territory and head deep into the Rual Mountains."
"Through our territory? By whose permission?"
I was already irritated by the magic tower, and Derbal's words lit my temper like a fuse.
"They say it's been like that since the past. Once a year, they pass through Neruman to trade with the dwarves."
"What, what! Dwarves!"
I had been wanting to see my dwarf brothers anyway.
They were essential, hardworking laborers indispensable for the territory's future development.
Those were the dwarves, that foreign race.
"We've heard there are a few dwarf villages left on the continent, in the Rual Mountains and the Ritor Mountains. It seems they've contracted with one of them. Dwarves have peculiar temperaments and rarely contract with humans, but once they do, they never betray that trust. And crucially, it's well-known among most on the continent that Corvein became today's premier merchant company thanks to their dwarf contract."
Derbal provided the detailed explanation.
'Weapons and items made by dwarves are all treated as luxury goods! A merchant company contracted with such dwarves...'
"Over two hundred wagons, about three hundred merchants and coachmen, around five hundred mercenaries, and a total of over twenty wyverns are entering the territory together."
"Hmm..."
It was a sign of how seriously the Corvein Merchant Company viewed this.
"What are the trade goods?"
"We can't know for sure, but likely top-quality wheat, magically preserved beer, other foodstuffs, and fabrics."
"Huh? That's it? Then what does the merchant company get out of it? No way!"
A flash of insight: the various luxury goods made by dwarves.
Among them were wyvern mithril alloy armors without magic defenses.
"Wyvern armor, air plates, all mithril products, weapons like swords, and decorative items favored by nobles."
"Gasp! Trading that for food?"
"Yes... That's why merchant companies on the continent have risked their lives since ancient times to trade with dwarves. But dwarves are a race disinterested in anything beyond eating, drinking, and crafting. If you invade their village rashly, they'll fight to the death rather than surrender. That's why there aren't many dwarves left on the continent now."
Dwarves who lived for food and died for it.
As expected of artisans' descendants, they had fiery tempers.
"Block them."
"Pardon?"
"Tell Sir Jenis and Sir Raiker to stop them once they pass Denfos."
"M-my lord..."
Derbal's face twisted in shock at my words.
He and I both knew what turning against the merchant company after the magic tower would mean.
But now that I was lord of Neruman, I couldn't just let them pass.
At the very least, I needed toll fees(?) to save face.
"The mercenaries are strong, right?"
"Probably... I suspect most are Blade Users of 2nd rank or higher."
To traverse monster-infested Neruman, they'd need that level of force.
'High-ranking mages too, no doubt.'
Hiring twenty wyverns and five hundred Blade User-level mercenaries would cost at least a million gold.
That kind of power could sweep away an average imperial rural barony in one go.
'A contract with dwarves... Dwarves...'
Dwarves lingered in my mind.
It was a sudden high-difficulty quest pop-up.
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"Th-this..."
Ten wyverns flew overhead in defensive formation, while 2nd-rank-or-higher mercenaries protected the wagons with sharp, unyielding eyes, never relaxing.
The long caravan of merchant wagons halted abruptly due to the sudden group that appeared.
Deske, in charge of the caravan, scowled at the cavalry brazenly blocking their path.
"Vice-leader, those seem to be the soldiers of Kaier Baron's soldiers, who recently pacified Neruman."
A subordinate merchant cautiously identified the group blocking the front.
"I know. But... why are they blocking our path? So boldly, without fear..."
Before departing on such a vital caravan, it was tradition to thoroughly scout the route.
Even the slightest variable could decide the merchant company's fate, so caution was paramount.
They had gathered exhaustive info on Neruman.
Thus, spotting the Bazran Empire flag leading, flanked by a golden-striped wyvern and moon banner, he instantly knew they were Kaier Baron's men.
"What shall we do?"
The blocking cavalry numbered barely five hundred at most.
Five wyverns hovered above them, but it was no cause for fear.
By now, the other ten wyverns would've received word and launched from the rear.
At the subordinate's question, Teske narrowed his eyes at the insolent fools.
"Prepare a modest token of goodwill."
"Understood, Vice-leader."
He wanted to sweep them away, but these were soldiers flying the Bazran Empire flag.
Moreover, intel said the one who took Neruman, Kaier, was rumored to be a magic swordsman.
One strong enough to face over ten wyverns alone.
An unbelievable rumor, of course...
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'What a shame.'
I had hoped they'd bite the bait and attack.
But they acted cautiously, like proper merchants.
'If I could snag just half of those guys... Grr.'
Ten wyverns circled in a wide defensive glide.
And another ten visible behind.
A total of twenty wyverns in sight.
Had they arrogantly attacked, I planned to capture them all for myself, but they weren't fools.
'That must be the leader.'
Among the merchants' robes, one in a strikingly silver robe stood out.
The robe, likely a magic item, as he slowly advanced toward the blocking cavalry.
"Bebeto, let's land."
Kuooh!
Bebeto roared like the master of Neruman and touched down on the ground.
It was time for my first legal shakedown.
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"I am Teske, Vice-leader of the Corvein Merchant Company. It is an honor to meet the famed Kaier Baron."
'Huh, check out this old guy.'
Teske, a man in his late forties who looked more scholar than merchant, gestured that he knew of me.
"Haha, so you're Vice-leader Teske. I'm Kaier."
Unlike my inner thoughts, I greeted him with a mild expression.
"We apologize for not visiting first before passing through your territory. In the rush of caravan travel, such oversights happen. We hope you'll graciously overlook it."
'Hoo, no wonder he's vice-leader of a great caravan.'
Probably no other lords blocked them as recklessly as I did.
Merchant companies traveled under imperial or royal patronage, or with great nobles' cooperation.
It was unheard of for a mere baron to block the continent's top merchant company's vital caravan.
"Things like that happen when you're busy. Was your journey here smooth?"
"Unlike before, there weren't many monsters. And the monsters, being intelligent, don't foolishly attack a caravan... if they want to live, that is."
Teske met my eyes directly as he spoke.
His words implied that blocking them was worse than what monsters would do.
"Haha, of course. Who'd dare block the mighty Corvein Merchant Company?"
"This is a small token of our sincerity. Please accept it, though modest."
'Let's see what you've got.'
Contrary to "small token," a hefty pouch was handed over.
"No need for such..."
I accepted the pouch with a pleased smile.
'Just a few hundred gold? For kids' candy?'
Expecting something heavy like a merchant gold plate or jewels, but it was barely pocket change.
"You seem on patrol, so please continue without worry about us."
'You bastards, heading for a deal worth tens of millions in profit, and this is your bribe? Think I dig dirt for a living!'
I'd poured over a million gold—my blood money—into Neruman.
Once in my pocket, their money was mine, and mine was solidly mine.
Yet the Corvein Merchant Company dared huge profits in my territory for a pittance.
"Since you say so, we'll continue our patrol. If any trouble arises, just send word. We'll rush right over."
Like a tactical retreat, that was enough for today.
"Oh! And for your information, from now on, caravans passing through our territory will donate 10% of their trade goods to the territory development fund. We'd appreciate your consideration."
"N-no, 10%...? Our company has a contract with the Bazran Imperial Family for tax-free passage through all territories..."
Teske jumped at the 10% figure.
"Of course, for great caravans. That's why I said voluntary territory development donation."
"Hmm..."
Emphasizing "donation," Teske's face twitched.
'You punks, wouldn't hurt if your cousin bought land?'
Profits from the land I sweat to claim.
Those greedy thieves.
"We'll keep that in mind. Farewell."
Unlike his initial expression, Teske's face was coldly stiff as he bowed slightly and turned.
"Pleasure meeting you. Let's meet often~!"
I waved cheerfully at his back.
Teske shuddered mid-stride.
Probably won't see that smiling face again.
This path would be their last free stroll on my land.
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'The Rubis Company has arrived.'
The Rubis food-buying caravan, which crossed the territory border days ago, filled the spacious Skywing Squadron grounds.
'Huh? That guy's familiar from behind?'
Two merchants waited before Bebeto's hangar.
Neruman Rubis branch chief Renkis, and a man facing away.
As Bebeto landed, he turned.
'Jamer!'
An unexpected pleasant face appeared.
Jamer, one of Rubis Company's top chief merchants.
He smiled at me and bowed slightly.
"It's Jamer!"
As Bebeto's claws hit ground, I leaped toward him.
"Long time, Kaier Baron. I heard you accomplished something tremendous in so short a time—you're now a territory lord. Congratulations."
Jamer bowed deeply at my familiarity, offering felicitations.
'All thanks to you, bro.'
"No need for that. Come, let's go inside. With such a guest, we must share a beer after so long."
"Haha, your personality hasn't changed."
I grabbed his hand to lead, and Jamer burst into hearty laughter.
Though nobler than when we met, I wasn't some runaway brat.
Jamer and Rubis had greatly helped make today's me.
They needed to remain my steady go-to market.
'Time to ask for a credit limit increase. Say, three million gold.'
Of course, never free.
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"What! Priestess Armis has vanished!"
The quiet prayer hall of Neran Temple in Piyor Viscount's castle echoed with the shout.
Hed or Priest, counting days to the bishopric at the Order's center, shot up in alarm.
"Y-yes. We thought she was in silent prayer since last evening, but she's gone."
Boom!
"Is that any way to report! How could you fail to prevent a priestess's departure as a holy knight!"
Excitement revealed true nature; Hed or discarded his facade, face flushed red.
She had to be brought back.
His path to high priest was due to novice priestess Armis, upon inspection.
Armis, with divine power even the Grand Bishop couldn't match.
She was Neran's most beloved priestess.
But Hed or and the Dafis Kingdom bishop kept her as novice, not wanting to lose her.
'Must find her. Who else can produce top-grade holy water!'
If this leaked, his bishopric was gone, and his past glory with it.
Only Armis could make top-grade holy water, which Hed or used for political schemes and immense wealth.
"Deploy all holy knights immediately to find Priestess Armis! This is clearly a kidnapping! Use every means to retrieve her!"
"As you command!"
The holy knight bowed to the agitated Hed or.
If word spread a priestess was kidnapped from the Order, holy knights' honor suffered.
As Hed or said, any means to find her.
'Damn... So close now.'
Issuing orders, Hed or inwardly cursed instead of crossing himself.
His face was as rigid as rotten pig liver.
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"Form a caravan."
".....?"
After dinner, as I leisurely drank beer with jerky, my order to form a caravan drew puzzled looks from Jamer and Renkis.
"A caravan, you say..."
Renkis branch chief, knowing Neruman produced little beyond orc or monster hides, asked cautiously.
"Aren't you hungry?"
".....?"
I grinned and tossed the question.
"Always hungry. I'd have to devour this continent to be full."
Renkis blinked in confusion, but Jamer smiled faintly in reply.
"What do dwarves like?"
"Dwarves... They don't farm beyond hunting, so they love grains like wheat and potatoes. And the beer they learned from humans... Oh! There's something else they adore."
Artisans traditionally lived simply.
Pure hearts birthed soul-infused works.
Renkis branch chief, lost in curiosity, answered my question.
"Rare ores, new smelting techniques, or architectural blueprints. Of course, the continent has almost none to impress dwarves now."
'Ores, smelting secrets, architecture...'
A major venture needing heads together.
I'd love to hog it all, but greed invites downfall—heaven's law.
"And they like mages too, I hear."
"Mages?"
Jamer and I now used polite speech toward each other.
'What for mages?'
"Dwarves are called innate warriors. Tougher than orcs in stamina, agility, strength—that foreign race. With brilliant creativity, they craft powerful armors and weapons humans can't match. But dwarves are born with low spirit affinity and mana control. Ages ago, over a thousand years in the racial war with humans, they lost to Blade swordsmen and mages using mana. So dwarves researched mana themselves. Some ancient histories mention dwarves reaching master level with Blades. But magic? Their constitution prevents it."
Jamer, sharp merchant, gave a history lesson.
"Don't mithril armors from dwarves block 5th circle magic? Why fear mages?"
Renkis asked curiously.
"Not because of mages. It's the furnace."
'Furnace? What's that mean?'
"Manmade furnaces don't reach high temperatures. But a magic furnace using magic stones and circles? It could melt dragon bone. That's why haughty dwarves respect only mages among humans. 6th circle or higher."
'Hmm... Magic furnace...'
This continent's knowledge differed much from Earth's.
"Intel says most dwarves own magic furnaces and trade with mages via barter. Likely a mage with the Corvein caravan through Neruman. At least 6th circle."
As expected of a top chief, Jamer knew much.
'Grains and beer are doable, but 6th circle magic's the issue.'
Pondering a magic furnace, its design blueprint naturally surfaced.
Top performance, melting dragon bone—or dragon grandpa.
"Shall we prepare?"
Jamer's eyes gleamed with meaningful words.
His pale purple eyes swirled with strange fervor.
"Of course. Even a bastard takes over half in his own yard. Let's do it."
"Thank you. I trust only you, Kaier."
Jamer threw the die, risking war with Corvein.
"Trust me! Bread comes to the faithful."
Of course, I wouldn't take responsibility.
Hard enough handling myself in this world.
Take it or leave it.
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"It'd be fun if we made one that could handle Blessed Spear. With speed too..."
Theory and practice differ.
Dissecting Dravit, I compared to my mind's knowledge.
"Replace joints with stronger mithril alloy... Apply Master's mana circuits for double efficiency..."
Dravit resembled robot toys from my childhood.
After talking with Jamer, I headed to the hangar.
Magic formulas linked like math principles.
Mana circuits, epitome of magic theory, grew more fascinating the deeper I delved.
A small mana plate held a dozen magic circles interworking.
"If Dravit could block Blessed Spear, it'd be hugely useful on the ground."
Not just combat.
Dravit was handy for daily life too.
Like a robotics engineer, I immersed in Dravit research.
Scribble, scribble.
In my notebook, a new Dravit blueprint took shape.
My land's guardian, mighty Mazinger Z of construction.