Chapter 26: A Man Who Can Paint the Future
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 26: A Man Who Can Paint the Future
"An... absurd story, you say?"
"I don't care whether you believe what I'm about to tell you or not. Just listen."
"I—I understand."
Stephan took a listening posture, just as requested.
His head was spinning enough to kill him, but it wasn't entirely impossible to focus. Ferda began his tale.
"This is the future I envision."
Ferda didn't speak as if he were trying to sell a product. He simply focused on recounting the things he had seen, heard, and felt exactly as they were.
As Stephan listened, he began to pick out key concepts one by one.
Carriages that move without horses. Tools powered by mana, yet requiring no mages to operate them...
Stephan was a man who had been called a genius since childhood, and his mercantile instincts were exceptional. A merchant's sense is a simple thing: take the profit and discard the loss.
What was Ferda talking about?
A pipe dream.
By Stephan’s common sense, it was an impossible story that deserved to be discarded.
And yet... it sounds so plausible.
It wasn't the sweet whispering of a trap. There was none of the typical exaggeration of a swindler, nor the hidden pitfalls of someone concealing information. It felt like a grandfather telling a story to a child—as if he were calmly reciting things he had personally witnessed and experienced.
That was why, despite the absurdity of the tale, the scenery painted itself vividly in Stephan’s mind. He didn't even know what to call it, but he felt a sudden, sharp conviction.
This will undoubtedly make money!
Stephan’s mind snapped back to full clarity, and his hands began to tremble.
"That is all. That is the future I imagine."
Stephan, who had been listening with bated breath, finally spoke.
"That future... it’s related to the research you’re conducting, isn't it, Regent?" Stephan asked, his heart pounding. He was so shocked that he even forgot to stutter.
"Of course."
"T-then! Please, can you tell me what it is?! I beg of you!"
Unable to contain his excitement, Stephan pleaded with Ferda.
"It is Magitech."
"Magi...tech."
It was a name he felt he had heard once before. However, the reason Stephan couldn't quite remember it was surely because it hadn't seemed profitable at the time.
If I thought it wouldn't work then, I should feel the same way now...
This was the first time he felt like he was on the verge of missing out on such an incredibly attractive prospect. He couldn't let it slip away.
"If you need monster corpses for that research, how about we help you?"
"Are you saying you'll cooperate?"
"Yes. We will provide them for you."
Ferda leaned back into his chair and asked, "What do you want in return?"
"I want us to be involved in the distribution and manufacturing process of those Magitech products."
Stephan laid bare his desire. Ferda asked in an even more serious tone.
"Just distribution and manufacturing?"
"I mean I want a monopoly, of course," Stephan answered clearly.
An exclusive contract. No matter what the product was, having sole possession of it was a powerful weapon.
"I am well aware that this is a great ambition. Therefore, I am willing to adjust everything according to your wishes, Regent. I only ask that you allow us to monopolize the products derived from that research."
Stephan strongly expressed his intent for exclusivity. Ferda, however, looked largely indifferent.
"What we are researching will change the world. If you want a monopoly, you'll need to show more sincerity than just helping with the research, don't you think?"
"What would you like me to do?"
Ferda seized the moment to make his proposal.
"I want materials for road development and the advancement of the Archduchess's territory, as well as top priority in securing food reserves."
Stephan was startled by Ferda’s demands, which poured out as naturally as flowing water.
"You truly ask for a lot..."
"Is there a problem with a leader striving for the development of his territory?"
"There is no problem. Haha..."
Though he laughed and acted the fool on the outside, Stephan couldn't help but agonize over the decision.
Providing the three things he asked for isn't impossible.
The wealth and materials Stephan had amassed were overwhelmingly greater than those of his two siblings. Road development was something they would have to do anyway if they were in a partnership. He had plenty of materials and food reserves to spare.
However, there was a different reason for his hesitation.
Top priority...
Stephan knew how terrifying that phrase was. "Top priority" meant that even if someone else offered a fortune to buy the goods, he would have to grit his teeth, ignore them, and supply them to Ferda at the agreed price. Stephan’s mercantile instincts were screaming at him to avoid this.
"You don't look well."
"Pardon? Oh, no..."
"I suppose the request for top priority supply isn't to your liking?"
"No. How could that be?"
Even if it were true, one must say it isn't. That was the most basic of basics.
"Think about it. No matter how much wealth you pile up, wouldn't it be a shame to die and leave it all behind?"
Stephan flinched. "A-are you threatening me right now?"
"No. This isn't a threat; it's a conversation about your future. Herman Pascal is quite elderly, isn't he?"
"Ah..."
Stephan realized what Ferda was getting at. He recalled the thoughts he had briefly pushed aside.
My loathsome brother and sister...
Murchit and Tilda. Weren't the two of them fiercely pressuring him?
"Even if you have to endure some loss, isn't the prospect of becoming the master of the merchant house the most attractive offer?"
"The... master of the merchant house..."
The Pascal Trading Company was everything to Stephan. It wasn't just his wealth; it was his very life.
"As much as you cooperate with me, I shall cooperate with you. I will ensure that everything Herman Pascal built, and the trading company you helped grow, becomes entirely yours."
Stephan pulled out the scales in his heart. What Ferda requested and showed him versus what he had to give up. Of course, it was an overwhelmingly disadvantageous trade for Stephan.
The Archduchess’s consort—no, the Regent—could be the person to back me.
Ferda Valdrova. At first, Stephan hadn't thought much of him as a connection. If he bragged about being connected to Valdrova’s "kept man," he would only be laughed at; people would think he was so desperate he was grasping at a rotten rope. Most people undervalued Ferda, and Stephan had believed them.
But that's not it.
Seeing him in person now, it was different. He was a man with a radiance rivaling that of an Emperor. Even as he sat here in shock, the doubt that he might still be underestimating the man wouldn't leave him.
This man knows how to paint the future.
It wasn't the childish drawings of boastful nobles; even when he drew rough lines, the shape was distinct. He had conviction, and he had the ability to back it up.
The one thing I could never have.
Absolute charisma. Stephan lacked it. And so, he wanted to say it. He wanted to do it, no matter what. The words pushed up against the back of his throat.
"May I ask one question?"
But he didn't say it yet. Answering a beat late was the shortcut to becoming a great merchant.
"Go ahead."
"I have an older brother and an older sister. Why did you not choose them?"
Ferda answered honestly.
"I'll be blunt. It's because there's nothing to be gained from siding with them."
A cold, calculated judgment.
"And you are lonely and isolated. You are perfect to use."
"Ugh..."
Ferda was being too honest. Stephan, who had waited in hopes of testing him, was caught off guard instead.
"That is why I am making this proposal to you. Will you risk a loss to survive, or will you simply be pushed aside?"
Stephan realized how shallow his thinking had been. To think he had tried to test such a man.
"I'll do it."
And he added the words he had forgotten.
"I will do it, no matter what."
Stephan knelt and bowed to him. Ferda leaned forward and reached out his hand.
"I'll be in your debt from now on."
"It is I who will be in your debt, Regent."
Stephan thought to himself: no matter who made what offer, nothing would ever give him the same heart-pounding thrill as the deal struck today.
* * *
The territory of Count Consilus.
Today, a soldier—a father and a husband—had died. He had met a gallant end while buying time for farmers to escape from monsters attacking the fields.
Priests performed the rites, sprinkling holy water on the body, while soldiers raised their swords to honor his death. Count Consilus himself attended the funeral of the mere soldier. The aging lord could no longer wield a sword, but he never missed a soldier's funeral, always showing up to mourn.
It was his usual behavior, but today felt different. Even after the ceremony ended, Ulvera Consilus did not leave, remaining there to stare at the grave.
"Arwen..."
He called the name of the knight standing behind him.
"Speak, my Lord."
"What did the Empire say? What happened to the letter we sent?"
Arwen answered with a strained, uncomfortable voice.
"They say it will take time. They claim prioritizing supplies for the soldiers within the Empire comes first..."
"First... is it?"
Ulvera Consilus stroked his beard. A man whose life was like walking a tightrope, Ulvera rarely showed his emotions. In a place where expressing feelings today could lead to death tomorrow, he had always practiced smiling kindly. If it didn't work today, try tomorrow; if not tomorrow, then the day after.
"Those sons of bitches... they're worse than dogs."
Even Count Consilus could no longer just keep smiling.
"Prioritizing supplies for soldiers within the Empire? Are they saying we aren't even subjects of the Empire? We, who live on the front lines, suffering from monsters every single day? Is the Emperor so afraid of a little civil unrest that he's arming city guards instead!"
"Please, calm yourself, my Lord."
"It is truly lamentable! I may not have lived a perfectly honorable life, but I thought I hadn't lived a shameful one! Yet today is the first time I have felt such profound shame!"
When Count Consilus heard the reason for the soldier's death, his heart felt like it was crumbling. The sword the man had raised to block the monster had snapped while he was trying to deliver the finishing blow. The sword he used was a standard-issue item, but he had used it for five years. It wouldn't have been strange for it to break at any moment.
Count Consilus knew how important national defense was. He never neglected the training of his soldiers to protect his territory, and he emphasized that those in power should lead by example to ensure strong mental fortitude.
But even the strongest spirit is no match for a lack of supplies. While the interior of the Empire was peaceful, the front lines were always in a state of war. It was a place where casualties from monsters were a constant occurrence.
"Forgive me..."
Count Consilus knelt, clutching the soldier's grave.
"Please forgive this incompetent old man... It was my fault."
"How can you say you are incompetent, my Lord! This is all because we are lacking!"
"That's right, it's my fault!"
"It's my fault!"
Arwen knelt, and all the soldiers under his command knelt as well. Count Consilus wailed for a long time.
After crying his heart out, Count Consilus stood up with Arwen’s support and began to walk again. He was on his way back to his quarters when he heard a commotion outside the castle gates. It was loud enough to pierce through the high, thick walls.
Instead of going to his quarters, Count Consilus asked the sentry guarding the main gate.
"What is happening?"
"Loyalty! I was just about to look for you, Count!"
"For me?"
"Yes. A line of carriages is cutting through the forest. They look like merchants, but we haven't let them in because they seem suspicious..."
"Merchants are suspicious?"
"They claim to be from the Pascal Trading Company."
It was understandable to be suspicious. There was no reason for a group as prominent as the Pascal Trading Company to come to the Far East. The guards likely judged them to be bandits or thugs in disguise.
"I see. I will go out myself."
A poisonous glint entered Consilus’s eyes. He vowed that if they were bandits, he would draw his sword and drench the ground in their blood immediately.
Count Consilus stepped out through the side gate. In front of the main gate, a relatively well-dressed middle-aged man sat atop a horse.
"I have come to see Count Consilus. The carriages are waiting in the forest, which is dangerous. Could you please open the gates?"
"The man you are looking at is Count Ulvera Consilus. Show proper respect."
At Arwen’s warning, the middle-aged man was startled. He jumped off his horse and knelt.
"Ah, my apologies. My eyes must be failing me. Count, please forgive my rudeness."
"It is fine. Who are you? Bringing so many carriages to a place like this is bound to cause alarm..."
"My apologies for the late introduction. We are from the Pascal Trading Company."
"I heard that much. Do you have proof?"
"Right here."
The man pulled out an identification document. It bore the Imperial seal and plaque—he was definitely someone from the Pascal Trading Company.
"Why have you come here?"
"I have come to inquire about establishing a branch in Count Consilus’s territory."
"The Pascal Trading Company establishing a branch... Are you saying you're interested in trade in the Far East?"
Consilus was even more shocked. Establishing a branch meant they intended to revitalize trade in the surrounding area. But there was no reason for a large merchant guild to do so in the Far East. It was more rational for their business to spread out from the safe central regions rather than the high-risk Far East.
"Orders came down from the top. We are to provide top priority support for projects like supply distribution and road improvement, and to establish a Far East branch. We selected Count Consilus’s territory as the best location for this venture. If you grant us permission to establish the branch, we have come fully prepared to begin immediately."
Count Consilus stared blankly at the endless line of carriages emerging from the forest.
"So, did you come here intending to build a fortress?"
"Haha, not quite. We have construction materials, but we also heard news that you haven't been receiving supplies lately. So, on behalf of the Empire, our guild has come to provide the finest items from our inventory."
"Supplies...!"
Count Consilus strode forward to look at the goods loaded onto the back of a carriage.
Gasp!
His wrinkled eyes widened. The carriages were piled with things more precious than millions in gold.
The requests they ignored... they're all here!
From weapons to maintenance consumables, and even storable food. Everything from the trivial to the essential was inside those carriages. Count Consilus picked up a standard-issue sword. It was undoubtedly of the highest quality. It was a sturdy weapon that wouldn't snap in the middle of a fight with a monster.
"Why has Pascal... brought its business to the Far East?"
Count Consilus was dying to know. He felt he wouldn't be satisfied until he heard the answer.
The man replied, "This project is being carried out in consultation with the representative of the Archduchess of Valdrova."