Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Arrival in Maren
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After crossing countless mountains and fields and fording rivers for eight straight days, Eugene finally had Maren right before his eyes.
“It's huge...”
Pellid's gaping mouth showed no sign of closing.
And Mirian, a country bumpkin no different despite being a different species, was the same.
“I could return to the spirit realm with no regrets now. Not many of my seniors have seen a city this big. Sniff! I knew following Lord Eugene was the right choice! I've made it big!”
Mirian bounced excitedly on Eugene's shoulder and head.
Eugene wasn't as awestruck as the two, but even he couldn't help marveling at the grandeur of his first major city.
Maren looked five or six times larger than the biggest village he'd hidden in during his previous life.
“Um, who rules that place? A count or a marquess?”
“What? Haha!”
Partek burst out laughing at Pellid's question.
“Commercial cities like Maren don't have lords, young master.”
“Huh? Then who governs the people living there? Who do they pay taxes to?”
“Maren has a lot of guilds. Grain, textiles, blacksmiths, mercenaries—most large groups with numbers have guilds. Of course, the Merchant Guild has the most influence. Anyway, the guild heads gather and elect a mayor. Usually someone prestigious from an old family.”
“Mayor? So he's the lord of the city?”
“No, he's not. Every three years, the guild heads meet again to decide on re-election or someone new. And among the guilds, the Merchant Guild is the strongest. The taxes they pay to the city are on another level. The current mayor was strongly recommended by the Merchant Guild.”
“So Maren revolves around the Merchant Guild. Is the mayor a merchant by origin?”
Partek turned to Eugene at his question.
“The current mayor isn't a merchant, but he is one of Maren's great merchants. He has a solid reputation and gets along well with the surrounding lords, from what I've heard. Ah, if you'd like to meet the mayor...”
“Not at all. I'll handle my business and leave.”
“Yes, sir!”
Partek, having gauged Eugene's temperament by now, answered promptly.
The knight he served didn't seem very interested in power or currying favor with titled nobles for a position.
And from Partek's experience, knights like this almost always went down one of two paths.
‘They either seize a title for themselves or become holy knights.’
Partek silently hoped Eugene would take the former as he confidently led the way.
“I'm on good terms with the Maren guards, so we'll pass right through. Trust me from here on.”
* * *
Partek's bold claims weren't empty boasts.
The group entered Maren without so much as an inspection—greeted with a grand welcome, in fact, that made one wonder if such laxity was safe for a major city—and headed straight for the Feilin Merchant Group.
“Oh! Partek! Come on in!”
Bilmore, whose belly had grown even larger in the meantime, embraced Partek warmly.
“Lord Eugene! A pleasure to see you again.”
“Likewise.”
After bowing politely to Eugene, Bilmore's gaze shifted to Pellid, who was looking around restlessly.
“The youngest young master of House Tiwin is here too.”
“Hello, sir.”
“Yes, yes.”
Bilmore simpered in his natural-born way, eyeing the cart Partek had driven in with gleaming avarice before turning to Eugene.
“Is that the goods, Lord Eugene? May I inspect it?”
“Go ahead.”
At Eugene's permission, Bilmore approached the cart with eager anticipation, only to flinch back.
“Gasp!”
His mouth fell open like a gourd at the sight of the monster byproducts stuffed inside.
“What are you lot doing? Unload it!”
As the merchant group's workers hurriedly unloaded the crates, Bilmore rubbed his palms together and said to Eugene,
“Lord Eugene, please come inside first.”
“I'll head to the guild for a bit. Talk it over with him, Lord Eugene.”
“Do that.”
Partek's group departed, and Eugene entered the Feilin Merchant Group building with Pellid.
The other merchants and workers kept stealing glances at his retreating back.
* * *
“What? A knight who cleared a House Tiwin dungeon came in person?”
“Yes. And Bilmore called the boy with him 'young master.' Probably House Tiwin's bastard son.”
“Hmm.”
The Feilin Merchant Group, with its head office in Maren and branches as far as the Karsbagen Peninsula, was a sizable and reputable outfit.
Prechella, now fiddling with an expensive pen while propping her chin, was the head office manager's daughter—and a deputy manager in her mid-twenties, recognized for her talent.
“A knight personally selling monster byproducts? Could it be an imposter?”
“No, it's legit. Not just Bilmore—the mercenaries who skipped out early from the dungeon clear all confirm he's a real knight. And the point staff overheard the Tiwin bastard calling him 'master.'”
“I see. So a genuine knight, but it's still odd.”
“I was surprised too.”
Grail, who managed the head office staff, glanced around the empty manager's office before continuing cautiously.
“Maybe he's super greedy for money, or wants to start his own business?”
“A knight? Nah, that's too far-fetched. No need to come personally if he had a proxy. A knight's reputation tanks the moment word gets out he's in business. Why would one fresh off a successful dungeon clear risk that?”
“True, but...”
Grail scratched his head.
Ask merchants who they hate dealing with most, and nine out of ten say knights.
Nobles might act high and mighty, but they'd ally or trade with merchant groups when interests aligned. Knights? Not a chance.
That lot, obsessed with fighting and fame, despised merchants chasing wealth.
“Then why come here?”
“Hmm.”
Prechella thought for a moment, then looked up.
“You said that knight took Lord Tiwin's bastard as his squire? He's probably using the boy as a front—acting as House Tiwin's proxy while handling the real business himself. Chasing money and business without tarnishing his own name.”
“Oh!”
“I should meet him myself. We're on good terms with House Tiwin, and they need a regular buyer for mana stones and byproducts. Where's the knight now?”
“With Bilmore. Shall I fetch him right away?”
“Even a knight with odd ideas would find that rude. Sound him out first and set up a meeting for today.”
“Understood, Deputy Manager.”
As always, Grail's face lit up at the thought of Prechella landing another big deal.
* * *
“Why me?”
“Pardon? B-but if you meet the deputy manager and talk... you might get an even better opportunity...”
“Opportunity? What opportunity?”
Eugene asked out of simple curiosity.
But when the knight with the impossibly striking looks and openly icy aura shot back the question, Grail panicked.
“If I've offended you, I apologize. I had no intention of disrespecting you, Lord Eugene.”
“Disrespect?”
He truly had no idea what disrespect was meant.
Grail now feared the red-eyed knight.
“I-I absolutely didn't mean to upset you... I apologize again. Th-then I'll take my leave. Enjoy your time.”
Without even sitting, Grail bolted out after barely a minute.
“Hmm?”
Eugene was baffled.
The man had shown up out of nowhere suggesting a meeting with the deputy manager. Eugene merely asked why he should, and suddenly it was all opportunities and disrespect before the guy just fled.
‘Deputy manager, huh. Bilmore's plenty. Galpredic warned against getting too tangled with merchant groups anyway.’
Brushing it off, Eugene turned to Bilmore seated across from him.
“Hm? And what's with you?”
“I-I'm moved, Lord Eugene!”
“Moved?”
“You turned down the deputy manager to honor your bond with me. Sob! Bilmore swears to serve you body and soul!”
“...Do as you like.”
Eugene found merchants utterly incomprehensible, one and all, but pressed on.
“So you'll handle raising my squire?”
“Of course! I'll personally support the young master. You trusted me and gave me this huge chance—it's only right.”
“Just so we're clear: if you ever get caught slacking or scheming...”
“N-No need to worry! My sales might be modest, but I've never once cheated a client. Accurate and transparent! I'll handle all dealings for you and House Tiwin.”
“Good. I trust you.”
Of course, Eugene didn't fully trust Bilmore or the Feilin Merchant Group.
But Partek vouched for them.
In a commercial city like this, you couldn't even get a license without years of built-up credit.
Which was why the Feilin Merchant Group was a top pick, even setting aside Bilmore's connection.
“Master, then from now on, I...”
“You'll stay here. All mana stones and monster byproducts from the Tiwin estate dungeon go through you and this man. So you'll learn the ropes for a while.”
“...!”
Only now did Pellid fully grasp the meaning of Eugene's words before leaving Rose Castle.
His master had given him a real shot at standing on his own.
Misreading Pellid's shocked expression, Eugene added,
“You have to. Better than getting bullied by your second brother at the castle, right? You're my squire—no one here will mess with you. I've squared it all with Lord Tiwin.”
“Quite right, sir! Who would dare mistreat Lord Eugene's representative from House Tiwin? I'll see to it...”
“I'll work hard, Master!”
Pellid bowed deeply, eyes glistening with tears.
“You saved me, and now this huge opportunity too. I swear... I'll live and die for you, Master!”
“...”
Wondering what was up with this one, Eugene just nodded.
Then Mirian's voice whispered in his ear.
“Charm ability fully online now, huh? Vampires really are natural con artists—the undead temptresses that wreck families. Seniors weren't kidding.”
* * *
“He refused to meet me?”
“Y-Yes. He glared at me like, 'Why should I?' I thought I'd die of fright. Not a normal temperament.”
Prechella frowned at Grail's report, twisted by his own misconceptions—unaware of the truth.
“A knight accomplished enough for a dungeon clear acting like that? Figures a mere deputy manager's beneath him. What about Bilmore?”
“He was too scared to breathe in front of him. Looked like the knight had a solid grip on his weakness.”
“Hmm. Bilmore's no pushover despite his sales record. You did relay it properly and politely? That I wanted to meet?”
“I did, I swear. I slipped a bit at the end, but nothing offensive before that. Knights are all the same...”
Prechella waved him off as Grail started venting about knights.
“Enough. Find out what the knight needs first.”
“Pardon?”
“Sigh! He's a knight, right? Weapons, armor, horses—you name it! Knights need tons of gear. And he walked here—no horse? Then... Ah!”
Mid-sentence, Prechella snapped her fingers as an idea hit.
“Find a warhorse. One with papers.”
“Not hard, but why... Oh!”
Grail caught on late, and Prechella flashed a knowing smile.
“No knight hates horses, no matter how foul-tempered or arrogant. He's a potential long-term client—gotta gift him one, right?”
“Brilliant foresight, Deputy Manager!”
(To be continued in the next installment)