Chapter 13
Chapter 13
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Time to Change Strategies
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Now we must change our strategy.
The audience chamber of Kandoria Castle was filled with a tension unlike the usual calm.
Erika, seated beside me, maintained the refined grace befitting a lady of House Argentis, yet her blue eyes betrayed an unmistakable mix of curiosity and wariness.
At last, the heavy doors creaked open, and in the ensuing silence, a group of foreigners made their entrance.
"…!"
The moment I laid eyes on the figure at their forefront, I swallowed hard.
Her skin, nearly ashen gray, gleamed smooth as polished obsidian, while her long, braided silver hair shimmered with an otherworldly luster, as if spun directly from moonlight.
In stark contrast to her sharply pointed ears, her amethyst eyes held the profound depth and stillness of a tranquil pond.
She wore black garments embroidered with gold—designed for ease of movement yet modestly covering only her chest—adorned with precious jewels and a veil that half-concealed her face, evoking the image of a Middle Eastern dancer.
Her fluid movements and the innate nobility radiating from her entire being proclaimed she was no ordinary traveler.
Soon, her lips parted beneath the veil, and a solemn voice emerged.
"I am Kalendil, leader of the Black Moon Caravan. It is an honor to meet Jonathan Valerius, Lord Proxy of Kandoria."
I rose from my seat and offered a light bow in response.
"You've had a long journey, Kalendil. I am Jonathan, Lord Proxy of Kandoria. May I ask what brings you here in person?"
Kalendil's amethyst eyes pierced me with quiet intensity.
Her expression was unreadable behind the veil, but that gaze alone conveyed a presence far beyond that of a common merchant.
"The Black Moon Caravan trades primarily in places untouched by human feet—from the eastern fringes of the Empire, through the southern jungles, and even into our own world."
Her voice was soft, yet laced with unmistakable pride.
"It was then that rumors reached us of a miraculous item from the Empire's heartland—a 'red jewel' that stirred the Imperial Palace, moved the Papal Court, and left even the sages of the Magic Tower in awe."
Her gaze drifted briefly to the small bowl of sauce placed on the table for sampling.
"We deal only in the finest goods. And we judge the sauce crafted by Lord Jonathan to hold greater value than any spice or seasoning we know."
Having grasped her intent, I cut straight to the point.
"High praise indeed. Does that mean you'd like to add our sauce to the Black Moon Caravan's trade goods?"
"Not merely as trade goods."
Kalendil stated firmly.
"We seek exclusive sales rights for this sauce in the western dark elf territories and the southern continent. In exchange, we will procure any rare item from the Empire that you desire."
Exclusive rights in return for procuring anything we want. A bold proposal, to say the least.
I pondered for a moment. Exclusivity was as powerful as it was perilous.
Yet their distribution network was something I could never replicate.
"An enticing offer, but first, shouldn't you confirm the sauce's value for yourself, Kalendil?"
I signaled to Erika, who gracefully summoned a servant to bring warm tomato sauce.
Kalendil accepted the bowl with a nod, no words needed.
She lifted her veil slightly and took a small taste of the sauce alone, using a silver spoon.
We watched her reaction in tense anticipation.
"…!"
Her deep, serene amethyst eyes trembled fiercely for an instant.
Not explosive admiration or shock, but the pure awe of a sage beholding an unknown truth for the first time.
She closed her eyes briefly to savor it, then looked at me and murmured softly.
"…I cannot comprehend it. The depth of flavor here defies explanation by any combination of ingredients I know. This is no mere food—it's a complete law unto itself."
Kalendil slowly opened her eyes and regarded me with the profound, scholarly gaze of one appraising an ancient relic.
"All flavors in the world clash. Sweetness suppresses sourness; saltiness battles bitterness. Cooking is ultimately about favoring one side or delicately balancing their forces. Even dark elf cuisine follows this principle."
She paused, then continued with a voice brimming with conviction, as if she'd uncovered the truth.
"But this dish is different. This sauce… it is all the more desirable."
Her amethyst eyes gleamed brighter, fixed on me.
An analysis from a single taste. Such insight.
She was an extraordinary figure—and potentially a source of trouble if granted too much power.
She spoke of harmony, but the core was that harmony plus the overwhelming dominance and leadership of a fifth taste unknown to this world: umami.
She sensed its presence but not its nature. That was why no one could replicate my sauce.
"Which is why I make this proposal all the more earnestly. What say you to exclusivity?"
Exclusive sales rights. A sweet deal—equivalent to handing over the western and southern markets without getting my hands dirty.
But it also meant my sauce becoming a hostage to their whims.
What if they jacked up prices so high that commoners couldn't even taste it?
My dream wasn't riches—it was to reach every table.
I didn't need mere agents to sell my goods.
What I needed was a supplier of ingredients to perfect new flavors—not some middleman wielding unchecked power.
Yes, a partnership of equals, not a one-sided contract.
"Exclusivity is off the table."
I stated firmly. Her eyebrow twitched slightly.
"But a mutual priority partnership is possible. The Black Moon Caravan becomes our primary distributor for the western dark elf lands and the south, and in exchange, you prioritize supplying us exclusively with the spices and ingredients we request."
"Meaning you want first dibs on whatever you desire, ahead of all others."
"Exactly."
I grinned and handed her the prepared list.
Perfect timing, with business expansion on the horizon. No risks from exclusivity, either.
And dark elves, having carved out a nation in the western deserts through sheer trade and commerce, were notoriously scrupulous about promises and credit.
"Dried red chilies, black pepper, cumin seeds, and…"
Kalendil's eyes paused on a specific item as she scanned the list. She looked at me with a faint smile.
"…You are an intriguing man, Lord Jonathan. These are spices that grow only under the scorching southern sun—unknown even by name to Empire nobles."
"They're essential for the new flavors I plan to create."
"Very well."
Kalendil replied without hesitation.
"I accept your proposal. Coincidentally, we have several items on your list among our current stock. Please accept them as a token of our first trade."
At her signal, her attendants carried heavy crates into the chamber.
As the lids opened, a sharp yet fragrant aroma of spices assailed our senses.
Inside lay chilies dried to a dark crimson under the red sun, jet-black and firm peppercorns, and small brownish seeds the size of fingernails.
"Excellent quality cayenne peppers. The subtle smokiness suggests they were sun-dried then lightly charred over a flame. The black peppercorns are plump and solid, and the cumin's aroma is impeccably fresh."
At my words, Kalendil's amethyst eyes filled once more with wonder.
A murmur rippled through her attendants.
Perhaps because I'd identified spices utterly foreign to the Empire with the precision of an old hand.
"You have deep knowledge of our goods as well, my lord."
"For delicious food, it's only natural to care about every ingredient in the world."
Kalendil smiled faintly at my response.
She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then spoke as if resolved.
"A mere token won't suffice for our first deal. Lord Jonathan, to solidify our partnership, would you accept our inaugural order here and now?"
"Inaugural order?"
"We wish to purchase five hundred crates of your tomato sauce immediately—as the first batch to introduce this miraculous flavor in our territories."
Five hundred crates. No small quantity.
Enough to match a typical diocese's monthly output, ordered on the spot.
A decision based purely on the product's merit, unswayed by politics like the Palace. Its weight was immense.
But with our current facilities, it was feasible.
"Of course. I'll prepare the finest for you."
The deal was sealed swiftly.
True to their word, the Black Moon Caravan left behind hefty pouches of gold coin, promising to collect the goods within days as they departed.
In the wake of the Black Moon Caravan's exit, the audience chamber fell into a heavy silence, laced with the exotic scent of spices.
Erika gazed at me, her expression a mix of exhilaration from the massive deal and a hint of unease at how rapidly things were escalating.
"Jonathan, are you sure about this? Dark elves… and suddenly the scale is ballooning. The south and west, too…"
I smiled gently, taking her hand as if to acknowledge her concerns.
"It's fine, Erika. They're just top-tier merchants with a slightly different culture. And look at what they've brought us."
My eyes turned to the spice crates on the table.
The intense, alluring aromas wafting from them reignited the entrepreneurial fire within me.
"This isn't just business expansion. It means the world of flavors we can create has multiplied several times over."
"Really…"
Erika wore an expression of reluctant acceptance.
Soon, she eyed the spices they'd left behind and turned to me.
"So, Jonathan, what do you plan to do with those spices?"
"Oh, right. Where had we left off before the Black Moon Caravan arrived?"
"You said tomato sauce is just the basics—the base for endless possibilities."
"That's right."
I grinned, picking up a dried cayenne pepper from the crate and holding it aloft.
With a light squeeze of my fingers, the brittle chili crumbled with a crisp crack, scattering its potent, pungent aroma into the air.
As Erika instinctively geared up for a sneeze, I laughed and gently pinched her dainty nose.
"Tomato sauce was a great supporting player. Enriching bland stews, softening hard bread."
"Yes… right? So?"
Erika tilted her head, not grasping my point.
I looked at her, then at the infinite potential sleeping in the crates, and declared:
"But the era of the supporting role is over."
"Now it's time to change strategies."