Interlude: Dieta (1)
The gold-swallowing snake, Dieta.
A woman who fled her ducal house with only a single escort knight and, in a mere five years, became Cambria's foremost merchant magnate.
Her achievements were remarkable, yet outside Cambria few paid much attention to her or her trading company. Within the city she wielded considerable influence, true enough, but that influence did not reach beyond its borders.
Until a year ago, that had been the case.
But a year later, the story was different.
Over the past year, Dieta's company had achieved explosive growth. She had built distribution networks that stretched beyond Cambria and established a foothold in the heart of the Empire. On top of that, by flaunting her connection to the famous figure known as Najin, she had drawn the attention of the world.
Focused attention. Countless gazes and interest.
A single misstep in this situation, and everything she had built would come to nothing. One might have expected her to play it safe—but the gold-swallowing snake was a merchant to her very bones. High risk brought high reward. That was common sense for any merchant.
She had no intention of letting this opportunity slip away.
With the entire world watching her company, Dieta stepped boldly onto the stage.
"Buy it all."
The materials from the vanquished White Dragon and Red Dragon.
Dieta had already secured the priority bid rights for those materials. The gold coins she had tied up at a loss for this very moment—she unleashed them all at once. A wave of gold coins swept through the auction house.
The debts she had accrued with the Central Guild, the countless weaknesses and debts she had held over various caravans—she poured every last one of them into bidding on the materials. Dieta succeeded in securing nearly nine-tenths of the Red and White Dragon materials.
Enough to call it a monopoly.
Dieta had monopolized the dragon materials.
The bleeding had been severe, but in her estimation the dragon materials were worth every bit of it.
What were dragon materials, after all? Alchemy, magic engineering, the forging of armor and weapons and other equipment, even research purposes—they were commodities used in every conceivable field. Their commercial value had long been proven; the only problem was that there had been no stock to sell.
Such stock had been released for the first time in decades.
And not just any stock, but the materials of the Red and White Dragons tied to the legend of King Arthur. Beyond commercial value, they held high value as luxury goods as well.
But that's not the end of it.
Dieta rolled a platinum coin across her palm.
This particular batch of dragon materials was special. The Red Dragon Najin had slain was a unique specimen influenced by the Witch of Kamran, and it possessed scales that could withstand even a Sword Seeker's aura.
Already expensive dragon materials, now with that special quality attached—at this point, whatever price Dieta named was the price.
Countless caravans, workshops, and mage towers… virtually every sort of place had expressed interest in a deal. But Dieta did not respond. A merchant does not deal only in tangible goods. Sometimes, she knew, the invisible things held greater value than those that could be seen and touched.
If selling goods at the highest possible price was a merchant's virtue, then Dieta was an excellent merchant.
"The Crimson Tower has promised to provide us with their tower's goods at a discount. They also made it a condition that they would give our company first priority on their products."
She smiled at the merchants who had come to see her.
"The Dopker Smithy has promised to supply products forged from the materials to our company, and furthermore to form a partnership with us. And it's not just Dopker. The Loens Workshop, the Bendelin Alchemy Tower, and the Walhite Smithy have all sent similar proposals."
"What conditions have you brought?"
Bring conditions.
Otherwise, there would be no deal.
She pitted those who rushed after the dragon materials released after decades against one another. She induced them to offer better and better terms. As the competition among the merchants heated up, Dieta remained silent throughout.
She sold the goods to no one.
The customer she wanted had yet to appear.
This was merely bait. Bait to draw a larger fish into this game. Dieta eyed the big fish swimming leisurely beneath the surface. You will want this item as well. But you will not want to jump into this arena yourself.
Because you would feel it beneath your station.
A trading company that deals with you. Merchants connected to you. Receiving the goods through them is the picture you envision. But what can I say?
I have no intention of selling.
If you want it, come yourself.
Only then will I agree to a deal. What of it? For your sake—reluctant to step onto this stage out of concern for dignity—I have expanded the board this far. Isn't this enough?
And then, a soft chime.
"Guildmaster."
At last, the big fish surfaced.
"A guest has arrived from the Platinum Tower."
The bait had been taken. Dieta flicked the platinum coin she had been rolling in her hand. Watching the platinum coin spin through the air, she smiled.
The Platinum Tower.
The largest mage tower in the Empire.
At the summit of that tower was the prey Dieta was after. The Lord of the Platinum Tower, Cypria Gachevska. A great mage who produced nearly four-tenths of the artifacts circulating in the Empire, and one of the five pillars of the Empire.
Eternal Brilliance Horn Cypria Gachevska.
She was the prey Dieta was hunting.
The gold-swallowing snake gazes upon the Platinum Tower.
She establishes a connection with the Platinum Tower. She creates a channel through which to trade with them. That was the purpose of this entire plan. To successfully establish herself in the Empire's capital, she needed a reliable trading partner.
The fish had taken the bait.
Now all that remained was to cook the hooked fish. And that was Dieta's specialty.
Snap.
Dieta snatched the platinum coin she had flicked. Once she had a platinum coin in her grasp, she never let it go.
Najin stretched his stiff body.
Every time he moved, something seemed to creak—clear proof that his body had stiffened from lying still for so long.
I really was laid up for a while. How long was it?
"About a month?"
Only that long? It had felt like he'd been lying there for at least eight months. Najin kneaded his creaking shoulder as he thought back over the past month.
For a full month after the Red Dragon subjugation, Najin had been confined to bed. Even with Excalibur's restorative power, the injuries had been that severe. The healers had clicked their tongues, saying an ordinary human would have died ten times over from wounds like those—but unfortunately for them, Najin was far from ordinary.
A Sword Seeker, two stars, and Excalibur.
Najin already possessed a recovery rate that had left humanity behind.
The healers had insisted he would need at least half a year of rest, yet Najin had risen from bed in a mere month. It was the sort of thing that would have made the healers clutch the backs of their necks… but to Najin himself, even that single month had felt endlessly long.
"Well, of course it did. You've never rested more than a week in your life."
Merlin let out a sigh.
"Have you even tried resting since you left the underground city? You swung your sword every chance you got, like a man who'd die if he skipped training for a single day."
And thanks to that, I earned a star and became a Sword Seeker in less than a year, didn't I?
"Oh, of course you did."
As she shook her head as if to say there was no reasoning with him, Najin changed into outdoor clothes. Watching him fasten the sword from the wall to his hip, Merlin sighed again.
"Going to train again? Why don't you rest a little? Your wounds haven't even fully healed—what's the rush?"
I'm not going to train.
"What?"
Najin pointed to the shelf. There sat a fruit basket and all manner of snacks—every one of them left by Dieta.
"Today, you know? There were all sorts of things in the Empire."
"Najin, want to try some of this? It's nothing special—I just saw it on the way and bought it. Sometimes something like this is nice, right?"
"I brought a few books in case you got bored. You like this kind of thing, don't you? One Hundred Heroes Who Illuminated the Empire, and so on…"
During the month Najin had been bedridden, Dieta had come to visit him almost every day, and he felt grateful for that.
"She came to check on me almost every day, didn't she? I thought it might be nice if I visited her for once. She's a busy person as it is—coming all the way here must have been a hassle for her."
"Hmm… I wonder?"
"What?"
"I don't think she sees it that way."
"What do you mean by that?"
Merlin wore an inscrutable expression.
Unlike Najin, who possessed catastrophically abysmal instincts when it came to "this sort of thing," Merlin was not so dense as to miss a girl's romantic feelings.
No—frankly, it would have been stranger not to notice.
That girl looks at you with honey dripping from her eyes. When your hands so much as brush, she startles and her shoulders tremble; the slightest thing turns her ears bright red. How could anyone miss that?
Merlin swallowed the words that had risen to her throat. For some reason, she simply didn't want to tell him. It was a strange, unpleasant feeling—like watching someone else casually handle something she cherished. She shot Najin a sullen look.
"Why are you glaring at me like that?"
Of course, Najin only blinked at her blankly.
"When it's things like this, you're every bit the brat."
"What?"
What was she even doing?
Merlin sighed. She often forgot because of how quickly he grew, but the boy before her was only eighteen. A brat who had left the underground city and stepped into the world less than a year ago.
He had formed so few normal human relationships that it was only natural he didn't understand romantic feelings.
"Never mind. She'll be happy if you go see her."
Merlin shrugged.
Of course, she was the type who considered time spent on trivialities like lovers and romance a waste—but she had no intention of deliberately interfering.
Besides, was this boy the sort of tree that would fall no matter how many times someone swung an axe at him?
Najin's head was filled with nothing but swords, knights, and stars. Merlin simply could not picture the boy she was guiding engaged in romance. It was a pity for that brown-haired girl, but she didn't think Najin would fall for her.
A bright smile.
Thinking that made Merlin feel better, and she smiled. Watching her sulk one moment and grin the next, Najin tilted his head in confusion.
Dieta Trading Company headquarters.
While countless merchants and clients waited in line for their turn, Najin passed beside them and entered the building. Far from stopping him, the guards recognized him and offered a slight bow of greeting.
From the moment he stepped inside until he reached the uppermost floor of the company, no one barred his way. Ordinarily, meeting Dieta required a rather complicated process—but that process did not apply to Najin.
You may come whenever you like. And by "whenever," I don't mean the polite, formal kind of whenever—I mean literally anytime. So please, don't feel burdened, and come as often as you can.
That was what Dieta had told him, and she had ordered the company staff to simply send Najin up to her whenever he arrived. Thanks to that, he reached the top floor without any trouble.
The door to the office was closed, and two knights stood guard outside. One was the familiar figure of Pasion, Dieta's escort knight, but the other had his face hidden by a robe, making him unidentifiable.
Had she hired a new escort knight?
And yet… he seemed oddly familiar.
Najin narrowed his eyes. Sensing that gaze, the knight gave a slight laugh and pushed back his robe.
"We meet again."
"…Sir Klaus?"
The Blue Wing Cavalryman, Klaus Aten.
A man who had once been blackmailed by the Church into attacking Najin, but who had since become his ally. It was a welcome face, yet why was he here? At Najin's questioning look, Klaus pointed to the closed office door.
"That young lady hired me. Thankfully so."
"Dieta did?"
"Yes. Officially we're dead men—no proper status, no place to stay—but that young lady prepared everything for us, didn't she? Thanks to her, we're spending our days in comfort."
Those who had promised to become Najin's allies.
Leave their treatment to me, and you go do what you must, Dieta had said. And true to her word, she had. Najin inwardly clicked his tongue in admiration.
Arranging identities and lodging for that many people—and in secret, no less—could not have been easy.
He could picture Dieta flicking a gold coin and murmuring, "As long as you have money, anything's possible." Najin gave a short laugh and nodded.
"That's good to hear."
"It's all thanks to you. Ah, and my name now is 'Romanov.' A mercenary under Dieta's company. Until the day you turn your sword against the Church, I intend to live as Romanov."
"Shall I call you Sir Romanov, then?"
"The title of 'Sir' is more than I deserve. Just call me Romanov. Save the 'Sir' for when I can raise the Blue Wing Cavalry banner again."
"Understood."
Najin and Klaus smiled at each other.
Then a question suddenly occurred to Najin.
"So not only you, Romanov, but everyone from back then has joined Dieta's company?"
"Something like that."
Najin did a quick calculation in his head.
The Blue Wing Cavalryman, Klaus Aten.
The demon hunter, Jerold Orton.
Basaus Malek, who had served as a soldier on the front lines.
Those three Sword Seeker-level powerhouses, plus a number of Sword Experts, had all promised to become Najin's allies that day. If every last one of them had become mercenaries under Dieta's company… Najin let out a hollow laugh of disbelief.
"Hah."
Unofficial though it might be, a trading company with three Sword Seeker-level powerhouses as mercenaries. And when you considered that the company also sponsored another Sword Seeker… this was not a level of military force a mere trading company had any business possessing.
Najin glanced sideways at Pasion.
His expression was not much different from Najin's own.
"How do you think I feel, suddenly finding myself with three Sword Seeker-level powerhouses as subordinates?"
It was not entirely a joke on Pasion's part.
"So what brings you here? Come to see the young lady?"
"Yes. I thought I should visit her for once."
"She'll be delighted."
He smiled.
"Right now is the time the young lady enjoys her afternoon nap, so under normal circumstances I shouldn't let anyone in…"
He opened the door and stepped back a pace.
"But Najin, you're the exception."
"Should I come back later?"
"What are you talking about? If I told the young lady you came and left, I don't even want to imagine what she'd say to me."
So go on in.
Passing Pasion with those words, Najin entered the office. The moment he stepped inside, the door closed silently behind him. A courtesy from Pasion.
Najin shifted his gaze.
By the window, in a sunlit spot, Dieta was asleep on the sofa, her body reclined against the cushions. Brown hair that sparkled in the sunlight. She must have been thoroughly exhausted; even as Najin approached, she showed no sign of waking.
Only the soft sound of her breathing reached his ears.
Najin watched her for a moment, then settled into the chair opposite. He considered waking her, but it felt wrong to disturb someone sleeping so soundly.
He sat and waited for fifteen minutes.
The alarm clock beside the sofa began to ring loudly. The instant the sound started, Dieta practically swatted it down. With a bang, the alarm fell silent.
"Uuunngh."
Burying her face in the sofa as if she had no desire to get up, Dieta groaned, then finally pushed herself upright.
"Yaaawn…?"
Still half-asleep, she stretched out a long yawn—and her eyes met Najin's, who had been staring right at her. Frozen mid-yawn, Dieta blinked. Her long lashes lowered and lifted like curtains over her eyes several times.
Then—
Hup.
Grasping the situation, Dieta sucked in a sharp breath and whipped her head away. In a voice that seemed to shrink into itself, she spoke.
"Um, Najin? Could you look at the wall for a moment?"
When Najin turned his gaze to the wall, Dieta dashed to the full-length mirror in the corner of the office. She quickly straightened her clothes, smoothed her disheveled hair, touched up her light makeup, and then returned to the sofa as if nothing had happened, sitting demurely.
"You can look now."
Silently cursing Pasion for not waking her, Dieta arranged her features into a composed expression. A merchant never loses her composure no matter the situation. As befitting a merchant magnate now watched by the entire continent, Dieta's performance was perfect.
…The performance of her face, at least, was perfect.
The problem was that her bright-red ears and fidgeting fingers completely ruined that perfect act.