The Might of Dark Moon (2)
Viscount Birken looked utterly dumbfounded.
To a merchant to his very bones, the ability to predict grain prices was an astronomical piece of information.
After all, the absolute basic of trade was to buy low and sell high.
Grain, which had the highest consumption rate of any commodity, could yield massive profits even with a mere ten percent fluctuation in market price.
In truth, even if grain prices did not rise, simply holding the trade rights allowed them to pocket a margin of about fifteen percent.
From that fifteen percent profit, the net income would be calculated after deducting the operating expenses of the merchant coalition.
There was no way Birken did not know that the net profit would grow exponentially the larger the market price fluctuated.
"When you say a surge, My Lord... exactly what kind of scale are we talking about?"
"I expect it to double at the very least, and potentially triple if things get severe."
"...!"
Birken's pupils shook violently.
The moment grain prices skyrocketed, the scale of their merchant coalition would expand several times over.
It was a direct shortcut to sitting on a mountain of gold.
"May I ask the cause?"
"You must have heard the rumors of war."
"I have, but hasn't localized warfare with the Lapis Kingdom always been a regular occurrence? The lords have shown lukewarm interest, so it hasn't affected grain prices at all."
"That is precisely the problem. My information says war is imminent. The situation at the front is far more serious than what is publicly known. Yet, the lords remain convinced that war won't break out next year. The court is still debating the matter. Meanwhile, inside the Lapis Kingdom, troop reinforcements have already begun. In this state, what do you think will happen if our kingdom suddenly scrambles to prepare for war?"
"In-international war merchants will intervene. Grain prices will immediately shoot up vertically."
"Exactly."
Jeron's certainty did not stem from a single piece of information. Predicting a rise in grain prices was only possible by piecing together various disparate clues.
As Viscount Birken analyzed all the circumstances, he realized Jeron's words made perfect sense.
"I will mobilize the full strength of our merchant coalition."
"Good. We go all-in on food."
Birken's eyes turned deeply serious.
Jeron, too, continued his calculations with equal gravity.
"We will prepare two types of food."
"Pardon?"
"The first will be standard grain, but the second must be whole wheat. Naturally, whole wheat will be cheaper, correct?"
"That is true, but is there a reason to categorize the food like that?"
"Standard grain is for domestic supply. The whole wheat will be milled and threshed by us to be transformed into a premium product. You remember the bread we had this morning."
"Ah! Do you mean we can produce that!?"
"Indeed."
"That will yield truly astronomical profits. I shall begin the preparations immediately!"
Birken did not press for details. He simply trusted that Jeron possessed the necessary technology.
The bread they had eaten this morning tasted out of this world.
If they could process it, they could apply a premium strategy to their food supply and charge two to three times the price of conventional wheat.
Of course, since the demand for premium wheat was limited, they would eventually need to expand their market globally.
Now that I have the trade rights, establishing an international merchant coalition won't be difficult.
In this primitive medieval era, international laws were incredibly loose. It was a natural byproduct of a world where information was not organically connected. Consequently, trade itself was often looked down upon.
It was the exact opposite of the situation on Earth.
Meanwhile, at the main castle of Hanes County.
Jeron was preparing to depart, having finished his schedule.
He planned to set out this afternoon if possible.
As a northern noble who maintained a good relationship with the Count, he intended to stop by and pay his respects before leaving.
At the entrance of the main castle.
The knights of the Count's house recognized Jeron and greeted him warmly.
"Welcome, Baron!"
"Sir Bolton! Is the Count inside?"
"Yes! He is currently meeting with a guest, but I will escort you straight to the drawing room."
"Thank you."
"Not at all. The House of Hanes and the House of Farrow are practically family now, are we not?"
"Haha, I suppose so."
The knights surrounded Jeron protectively.
While nothing could possibly happen inside the lord's castle, this was the Count's way of showing his favor to Jeron.
Jeron had already received various conveniences from the Count.
Receiving so much could feel burdensome, but conversely, it proved that the bribes Jeron had distributed were deemed incredibly valuable.
In the aristocratic world, no matter how close you were, it was proper etiquette to return even more than what you received.
The Count's actions stemmed from this deeply rooted noble culture.
Upon arriving at the same luxurious drawing room he had visited before, maidservants politely served him freshly brewed tea.
Showing just how highly Jeron was valued, the Count appeared before the tea could even cool.
"Ah, Baron. Are you leaving already?"
"I have been treated wonderfully. I cannot thank you enough for the hospitality shown to me during my stay."
"Do not speak of it. Are we not family?"
"..."
The Count grasped Jeron's hand, expressing his regret at the departure.
Jeron knew all too well that nobles wore masks, so this was likely not one hundred percent genuine.
Even so.
If even ten percent of this is real, it's a success.
Jeron smiled back.
"The next time I visit, I shall make sure to bring a 'gift' with me."
"I am truly sorry to see you go. Next time we meet, we must share a drink."
"Of course."
The atmosphere was exceedingly warm.
They exchanged pleasantries and mutual compliments.
Near the end of their conversation, the Count casually brought up Marquis Latos.
"To secure Marquis Latos as a patron right after Duke Langton... where does such resourcefulness come from?"
"Pardon?"
"Such rumors are circulating in the capital. The social circles are in an uproar over the fact that the Marquis's house is guarding your vassal."
"Haha..."
Jeron had not heard of this. As expected of the Count, his information network was incredibly fast.
It was true that Jeron maintained a close relationship with Duke Langton.
But Marquis Latos?
He had merely sent a gift to establish a connection, but it seemed the Marquis had reciprocated a bit too generously.
It was the result of the Marquis overinterpreting the gift Jeron had sent.
With just a cheap bottle of wine and a ten-dollar fountain pen, he had gained the 'rumor' of having the Marquis as a patron. It was an incredibly profitable trade.
As the rumor spread through the capital's social circles, its ripples had reached all the way to the distant north.
Not bad.
It seemed Seira had handled her job flawlessly.
Jeron maintained the amicable atmosphere with the Count until the very moment he stepped out of the lord's castle.
It felt somewhat surreal.
Is this the power of connections?
While Jeron was preparing to return to his fief, Sir Leila arrived at the VIP room of the restaurant operated by Dark Moon.
This high-end restaurant would serve as the contact point with Dark Moon going forward.
Wandering around the slums alone carried the risk of an untimely death, so direct contact would take place in the safety of the surface world.
The VIP room of the upscale restaurant was beautifully decorated.
The space was thoroughly partitioned, and the gentle scent of white cedar drifted through the air.
It was a stark contrast to the streets, which reeked of various wastes.
Slide.
The door opened, and Director Evan, the practical manager of Dark Moon, stepped inside.
When Leila had first met Evan, his massive build and single eye had felt intimidating, but after a few meetings, that feeling had faded.
Evan covered his weaknesses with a very polite, smiling face.
"I greet the Administrator."
"I have come to deliver the Master's will."
"Please give the command."
Evan dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
He looked just like a noble receiving a royal decree.
"You must be well aware of the ill blood between the House of Viscount Rebion and the House of Farrow."
"Of course. The bad blood has persisted for over three hundred years."
"Then you also know that those bastards are eyeing our territory."
"Yes. We have temporarily established good relations, but that is merely on the surface. It is obvious that Viscount Rebion will eventually invade our fief."
"Our Lord desires war."
"What would you have me do?"
"Look here."
Sir Leila spread out a crude map.
It was a military map depicting a portion of the northern region.
The Farrow Barony, which possessed a vast territory due to once being a county, first caught the eye.
To the southeast, the Barony shared a border with the Rebion Viscounty, with a forest blocking the space between them.
In the Barony, it was called the Farrow Forest, while the Viscounty referred to it as the Rebion Forest.
The land went by different names depending on who you asked.
It had been a disputed territory for a long time, but since it was not particularly useful land, both sides had ignored it.
However, fifty years ago, the grandfather of the current Baron Farrow had officially declared it the Farrow Forest, and the House of Rebion had not reacted strongly.
At the time, the House of Rebion only held the rank of Baron, and the power of both sides was evenly matched.
To wage war, one needed a plausible justification. Raising an army just to claim that small patch of land would have resulted in a massive loss for the Rebion family.
"It is a disputed borderland."
"An iron mine has been discovered in this Farrow Forest. It isn't actually true, but we must make it seem so."
"...!"
Evan gasped in surprise.
An iron mine at this juncture?
Iron was always consumed as a war resource.
Even outside of war, the kingdom's iron consumption was high.
The quality of the iron mattered, but simply claiming it was an iron mine was enough to make it incredibly valuable.
While not as lucrative as a silver mine, it was information guaranteed to make the Viscount's eyes spin.
"You simply need to spread rumors to the Viscounty that an iron mine has been discovered there. On our end, we will send miners to the location and make moves as if we are actually developing the mine."
"The Viscount's greed will explode upon hearing the news. He is already lobbying the central political circles, so he might take action immediately upon hearing this."
"Indeed. The goal is to trigger a territory war within a few months if possible."
It was a strategy designed to drive the Viscount mad with greed.
The reports gathered by Dark Moon indicated that Viscount Rebion's greed far exceeded that of ordinary lords.
Even if there was no actual iron mine, simply hearing the rumors and seeing the signs of development would prompt the Viscount to plan a territory war.
Evan thought to himself.
The Viscount will have a clear justification to intervene. Furthermore, if a territory war breaks out at this point, it will inevitably be a highly localized conflict. The moment we win, our territory will expand, and our population will increase significantly.
Jeron Farrow had declared that the executives of Dark Moon could eventually become vassals of the family.
That was a glory to be distributed according to one's merits.
If the family expanded?
The status of the executives would rise vertically as well.
Evan immediately bowed his head lower.
"I will carry out this task even at the cost of my life!"
"There is no need for that."
"Pardon?"
"It is the Lord's command that while the war is important, you do not need to risk your lives. He understands your loyalty, but he wishes for you to avoid unnecessary casualties by acting too rashly."
"I obey the Lord's command."
Jeron intended to throw a bait to the Viscount through Dark Moon.
If the plan succeeded, it would have the effect of tossing a bleeding deer right in front of a starving lion.