An Insane Deal
Joseph's proposal was simple.
Help him find a medium for his artifacts, and in return he would grant exclusive distribution rights to every Ice Artifact he produced.
At those words, Braham's mind began to race. He was no mage, but as a merchant who specialized in buying and selling artifacts, he naturally possessed a comprehensive knowledge of the trade. He understood perfectly well what it meant that Joseph did not know an artifact's medium.
A medium, huh...
Completing a single artifact demanded countless experiments, and those experiments swallowed endless amounts of time and money. Not knowing the medium meant he was short on one of the two.
That said, the peculiar mage sitting across from him did not look short on money. A man who traveled with three private soldiers in full metal armor was hardly destitute. The likelier explanation was that he simply lacked the time to research.
He might not have been studying artifact manufacturing for very long...
Braham had no intention of asking Joseph that outright. Unusual or not, a mage was still a mage. There was nothing stupider than asking one whether his skill was amateurish. He had no desire to bruise the man's pride and watch a fortune walk out the door.
Besides, this mage had admitted the gap in his knowledge himself. For a creature as prideful as a mage to voluntarily expose his own weakness was no small thing. It meant he was prepared to take the risk if it meant finishing the artifact.
That peculiar stubbornness unique to mages, perhaps...
When it came to their own magic, mages were persistent to a degree that could curdle the stomach. That was precisely why those eternally arrogant men so often placed themselves under nobles who would fund their research without limit. This man, too, might have made the same choice in order to complete that artifact.
None of that is what actually matters.
In the end, Joseph was asking for an investment in his research, and in exchange he would hand over the sales rights to everything he produced. Braham nodded to himself. This was an insane deal — the kind of terms that would never come around again.
"I accept. We will support whatever you need to the fullest of our ability."
Braham spoke with a grave, unsmiling face, hoping the sincerity of the offer would carry. He neither knew nor cared what purpose or desire drove this mage. What mattered was that the distribution of the Ice Artifacts he created would belong to Braham alone.
"That's a relief."
Joseph, for his part, was privately easing out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His prediction that demand for Ice Artifacts would run high had not been wrong. Had Braham refused, Joseph might well have had to abandon the idea of producing artifacts in this city at all.
"Do you have any materials in mind?"
"A few. But I won't know for certain until I start making them."
"Understood. We'll mobilize our information network and our funds to procure whatever you name."
Braham produced a contract at once and began walking Joseph through the terms. He tapped the table with his quill, running some private calculation, then looked up.
"How about a seven-to-three split?"
"Three, huh..."
Joseph murmured it under his breath. Make the artifacts, and they would handle the selling — then cut him thirty percent.
Not bad, I suppose.
He was already receiving help finding the medium, but if he could push it, he wanted fifty-fifty.
Braham, however, was looking at him with genuine puzzlement.
"Pardon? Ah — no. You get the seven, Mage."
"...?"
Joseph's eyes widened a fraction.
Huh?
Yes, Joseph would manufacture the artifacts. But everything beyond that — the entire apparatus of distribution — would fall on the guild. They had even agreed to purchase the raw materials with guild money. And he was taking seventy percent?
If these were proper artifacts, could I have even floated nine-to-one?
The thought left a faint, unavoidable sting of regret. Joseph was reminded, all over again, of what ice was worth in this world.
"Understood. Let's proceed as is."
He recovered his composure, nodded, and reviewed the remaining clauses. Most of them concerned production support, a regular supply schedule, and exclusive distribution. What surprised him a little was that, of every contract he had seen in this world, this one actually looked like a contract. It truly was a city of merchants.
"Might I ask where you're currently staying?"
Braham posed the question carefully as they worked through the pages.
"At an inn."
"If it's agreeable to you, our guild owns a vacant house. Would that be of any use?"
Had this been an ordinary counterpart, Braham would never have offered such a thing. But from this moment forward, Joseph and the Kerbe Merchant Guild were business partners in all but name. Braham wanted him in an environment where artifacts could be produced as quickly as possible. It was less a kindness than a practical necessity — grease for the deal itself.
"...No. That won't be necessary."
Joseph considered it, then shook his head. Lodging support looked generous on the surface. In practice, it was throwing himself into a trap he couldn't see the bottom of.
If things go wrong later, how would I know whether that house was a home or a snare?
He had not forgotten the Valois Territory. In that comfortable, enormous castle, he had come within a hair of dying more than once. The lesson had been expensive, and he had learned it well: personal space was better the more independent it was, and he should arrange it himself whenever he could.
He asked for something else instead.
"Could you introduce me to a place where I could research artifacts, then?"
"A place to research?"
What Joseph needed was a space where he could work without interference and without watching anyone's face — close enough, too, that the supply of materials would never become a problem. He still knew far too little about this city to find such a place on his own.
"Hmm..."
Braham seemed to take his meaning. He nodded.
"In that case, the western quarter, where the Artisan Guild is gathered, would serve you well."
"There's an Artisan Guild?"
"Yes. Behind the guild hall are the craftsmen's workshops. I'll send word ahead so you can visit anytime tomorrow."
Joseph nodded. A workshop under the Artisan Guild would, indeed, let him research in peace.
They drew up three copies of the contract and divided them between themselves. The remaining copy, Braham said, would go straight to a notary of the Merchant Coalition.
"Then I'll be counting on you."
"Yes. Visit us in a week and the materials you named will be waiting."
They shook hands. When Braham moved to see him out, Joseph waved him off and followed a servant from the reception room on his own.
Braham stood for a long moment, staring at the lump of ice still sitting on the floor. Then he called a servant.
"I want that mage looked into."
"Shall I go to the Merchant Coalition's information brokers?"
"No. Even if you did, there wouldn't be anyone who knows him."
There had already been a report that Joseph's private soldiers had scuffled with the guild's security mercenaries. A man who knew this city would never have done something that reckless. He had not been here long — and he had not even begun to adapt.
"Find the gate guards who've been managing the city's entries these past few days and ask them. At the very least, we should be able to find out where he came from."
Investigating a business counterpart was common practice. This was a contract that involved money. In this age, the ones who didn't bother were the fools. But this time was different. Joseph the ice mage was far too unusual.
He had remained perfectly calm even after realizing he was being tested. Braham had even prepared a Light Artifact as a gift in advance, bracing for a flash of temper that never came. And while conducting a transaction he needed, he had refused the unnecessary kindness of a provided house.
Suspicious. Cautious.
He seemed less like a mage than a merchant — or a mercenary with a healthy sense of fear.
Where the hell did this one crawl out of?
Braham found himself genuinely curious about the mage named Joseph. If he traced the man's footsteps far enough back, there might be a clue waiting.
"What are you lot doing?"
Joseph stepped out of the building to find not only Derik but Auk and Jiren as well, locked in a staring contest with the guards.
"You've returned, sir."
The three of them tore their glares off the guards and bowed in a hurry.
"You'll be seeing a lot of them from now on. I won't tell you to get along — but at least don't make enemies of them."
"...Yes, understood."
Derik sounded faintly aggrieved. Even so, he snuck one last glare at the guards.
The next morning, Joseph set out for the western quarter of the city at first light. Braham had said it would take a week to procure the artifact materials. Joseph intended to have every preparation for his research finished before then.
As they left the city center, the clamor of voices thinned and fell away. In its place, a new sound rose to meet them.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Somewhere nearby, metal was being hammered. Before long, a row of small buildings came into view in the distance, clustered against the thick outer wall. They were uncommonly uniform compared to the rest of the city, and every last one of them had a furnace built into its outer face. Anyone with eyes could tell they were blacksmiths' workshops.
Joseph passed them and went further in. Soon he found a building with a small wooden sign hanging from it.
"Is this the Artisan Guild?"
"Looks like it."
He pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. The interior was finished in well-worked wood and stone; the walls were hung with tool blueprints of every kind and with the guild's emblem. A few paces deeper, a man in spectacles sat at a large wooden desk, recording something on a sizable sheet of paper with a thoroughly lifeless expression.
He looked up at the sound of their approach. After taking in Joseph's clothes and the armor of the private soldiers behind him, he removed his glasses, rose from his seat, and came forward with a distinctly sluggish gait.
"What brings you here?"
There was not a scrap of vitality in the man. He reminded Joseph, somehow, of a civil servant. The clerk looked him up and down as if he had caught that thought, then spoke again.
"You don't appear to be a guild member..."
The look in his eyes asked, plainly, what an outsider like this was doing in their hall. Joseph explained it the way Braham had told him to.
"Guildmaster Braham of the Kerbe Merchant Guild suggested it would be best to seek the Artisan Guild's assistance."
The Kerbe Merchant Guild. Guildmaster Braham. At those two names, the man's eyes went distinctly wide. He straightened a back that had been hunched a moment before and answered at once.
"P-please wait a moment!"
He hurried back to the desk and rummaged through the drawers, then pulled out a thick, worn ledger, flipped it open, and ran a finger down the pages.
"Th-there are currently several vacant workshops. If you wish, I can also put you in touch with security mercenaries."
He produced a map of Caladon and pointed to several locations checked off in the ledger.
What, was this place more impressive than I thought?
Joseph nodded, privately impressed by the reach of the Kerbe Merchant Guild. The clerk then tapped several spots near the outer wall — none of them far from where they stood.
"You may choose from among these."