Chapter 13
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: The Barbarian's Way of Making Money
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Fox's expression twisted in a strange way at my proposal.
It was a complicated mix of bewilderment, anticipation, and... that bitter sense of reality unique to merchants.
After a heavy silence, Fox let out a hollow chuckle.
"Haha... the king of the south."
Those words carried multiple layers of meaning.
He adjusted his glasses and fixed me with calm, sunken eyes.
The groveling desperation from moments ago, when he'd been begging for his life, was gone. In its place was the cold, calculating gaze of an information broker weighing the odds.
"Your words are awfully sweet, Chieftain. Exclusive trading rights—any merchant would drool over bait like that."
The bastard had called me 'Chieftain.'
His brain worked pretty well.
"But? Your reaction's kinda lackluster."
"But I don't care much for the word 'possibility.' It's the excuse failed losers use most often."
Fox leaned back deeply in his chair, interlocking his fingers.
"Do you know how many like you I've seen?"
"Oh? So other barbarians have come crawling to you before?"
Barbarians referred to themselves as 'barbarians' when speaking to outsiders.
"I've been in this business for over twenty years and seen countless savages—no, barbarian chieftains. Some spoke the imperial tongue fluently, just like you, and spouted grand ambitions. But they all ended the same."
His voice dripped with thick cynicism.
"Nothing's as ugly or dangerous as the ambition of the incompetent. How am I supposed to know if you're truly fit to be a king, or just a loudmouthed braggart?"
Hoo...
I curled my lips into a sly grin.
Not bad.
He wasn't just some mutt chasing the scent of money.
I actually liked him.
"So, you wanna test me?"
"Test? Merchants don't test goods. That's for the makers. But we do need to 'verify' if what we're selling is genuine."
"Heh, same difference. Cut the wordplay."
Fox tapped the table with his finger.
"Anyway, prove it. Prove your worth. Not with empty blueprints, but with solid results I can hold in my hands. Only then will I stake my life on boarding your ship."
I stubbed out the cigar in my mouth into the ashtray and stood up.
"Fine. Let's do it. Reasonable proposal."
"...Oh? You're accepting right away?"
"One month."
I held up a single index finger.
"By this time next month, I'll bring you enough 'goods' to make your eyes pop. Then we talk."
"Pretty confident, huh?"
"Not confidence—certainty. Get ready. You'll have plenty to prepare if you want your trading company to grow."
"Haha, definitely different scale from other chieftains. Don't worry about me."
I flashed Fox a grin.
"If you whine then, your head really flies."
"Heh, looking forward to it. If you make my company big, I'll gladly be your loyal dog."
Deal made—conditionally.
But today's shopping was separate.
The future's the future. The present's the present.
I dumped the entire pouch of gold coins and placed my order.
"Verification's verification. Gotta buy the goods. One hundred steel greatswords, one hundred axes, one hundred hammers—the huge ones— one hundred bows, and five hundred sets of leather armor. You handle the purchasing and haggling. Keep whatever's left after your fee."
"...That's quite the scale."
"And deliver it all near our oasis. Plus food and booze. Especially preserved rations—pack 'em full. Oh, and hygiene supplies... soap, bandages, disinfectants, the works."
"Orders like that are always welcome. Esteemed customer."
Fox smoothly took the order.
His eyes were still half-doubt, half-expectation, but at least he didn't see me as an easy mark anymore.
That was enough.
A few days later.
We returned to the oasis in triumph, leading dozens of supply wagons.
As the massive dust cloud from the wagon train rose over the desert horizon, the tribesmen on watchtowers blew their horns and came rushing out.
Bwooooo—!
"Kel Bark!! Kel Bark's back!!"
"They've loaded up a ton!!"
Leading the charge through the dust, as expected, was the loyal Karack.
"Ooooh! Kel Bark! You're safe! What're those huge wagons?!"
Karak sniffed the booze barrels and meat crates on the wagons, his eyes rolling back.
"Sniff sniff! The smell...! Incredible meat aroma! That's booze!! Haha ha!"
"Calm down. It's all for you guys, so wipe your drool. You're not a damn pup."
I calmed the hyper Karack and gathered all the tribesmen in the plaza.
Over three hundred warriors and their families.
Just days ago, they'd been hollow-eyed from hunger, watching my every move. Now, they looked at me with eyes full of anticipation.
I climbed atop the tallest wagon and shouted.
"Listen up, warriors of Grom Kel!"
The crowd fell silent.
"As of today, all your beggar-ass gear is scrapped!"
"...? Scrapped, what?"
The warriors exchanged baffled looks.
"Toss it all out!!"
Taking weapons—their entire fortune—from them was like thunder from a clear sky.
"How do we fight without gear?"
"You telling us to punch monsters barehanded?"
As the murmurs grew, I signaled Batu.
Batu yanked off the wagon's cover.
Shwaa—!
Under the desert sun, a wave of gleaming steel shone.
Blue-bladed steel axes from the Ayula Kingdom, gracefully curved greatswords, tough leather armors.
"Ooooh...!!"
"Th-those are all weapons!?"
Gasps erupted from the warriors.
To men who'd spent their lives scavenging battered weapons from raids, these freshly forged steel beauties were divine artifacts.
"This is... really ours?"
An old veteran picked up an axe with trembling hands.
"Light...! But sharp! It won't break even on rock!"
"Look at this sword! I can see my face!"
I grinned and yelled.
"You've suffered with that junk long enough. Toss the trash. We're Grom Kel. We'll rule the south! Arm yourselves worthy of it!"
"Woooaaaah!!"
"Kel Bark! Kel Bark! Kel Bark!"
The cheers shook the oasis.
With this alone, our military outmatched neighboring tribes.
Supplying gear to instantly boost troop quality and prestige.
Next came the food rations.
Fresh salted meats, fruits, and top-grade rum airlifted from Sand Port poured out, turning the mood into a festival.
That night, the oasis stayed awake with cheers and bonfires.
The next morning.
I called the key executives to my tent, hangover be damned.
Magra, Karack, Batu, and Aila.
Before them lay the 'southern map' from Fox.
"Alright, snap to it and look here."
I tapped the map with my baton.
"We need money now."
Aila, already tasting capitalism, nodded. Her eyes were sharper than before.
"Money's nice to have. But how? Pluck more ants?"
"Nah. Outsiders buy that. In Sand Port, ant shells are everywhere—no one wants 'em."
I pointed northwest on the map, not far from the oasis.
[Black Rock Abandoned Mine]
Labeled 'abandoned mine' on the map, but per Fox's intel, it was a juicy vein of high-purity magic stones still untapped.
But smack in barbarian territory, crawling with monsters en route, and dangerous critters inside—hence the nickname.
In other words, an ownerless treasure trove.
"Money means mines. We're digging magic stones."
"That place...?"
Magra adjusted her monocle, puzzled.
"Yeah. Called abandoned, but packed with unmined stones inside. Secure it, we make bank. Magic stones sell anywhere."
"But that place has..."
Aila scrutinized the map and frowned.
"Kobolds living there. It's their nest. Other tribes tried— all failed. Kicking 'em out first ain't the issue; kobolds are persistent."
"Bingo."
I snapped my fingers.
"Kobolds. Dog-headed beastkin monsters. Sly and nasty. Great at traps. That's why everyone avoids 'em. Strong, sure, but annoying."
If you couldn't wipe out every kobold in those twisting tunnels at once, they'd harass invaders with endless guerrilla tactics.
Drip by drip, and the mine stops being profitable.
But I thought differently.
"They've got a fatal flaw."
"Flaw?"
"They're born miners. Masters at digging. See in the dark, navigate tight tunnels. And smarter than you think."
Aila tilted her head.
"That's an advantage? Makes 'em harder to catch."
"Nah. Now that they've run into me, it's a weakness."
"Wha... what kinda twisted logic is that...?"
My lips curled into a wicked grin.