Chapter 34
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Virility Tonic (2)
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"Master told me! The story about building a huge empire selling herbs!"
That story.
It was the Qing dynasty tale I'd heard in my previous life.
When the Imjin War blocked imports of Joseon ginseng, Manchuria became the sole supplier. Nurhaci amassed a fortune through the ginseng trade, built an army, and ultimately toppled the Ming dynasty.
I'd run out of Three Kingdoms tales, so I'd just shared it as an amusing bit of history.
And now this girl wanted to apply it here.
"It's exactly the same right now!"
Lize was speaking with uncontainable excitement.
"What do the Kuman tribes lack?"
"Grain."
"Right! They're starving to death because of the cold and the ice dragon."
I nodded.
"And the Empire?"
"Blue-red herb."
"Yes!"
Lize clapped her hands.
"Their mountain sources burned up, so the supply's cut off. But the Kuman territories have the same herb."
"How do you know?"
"I asked Kurluk. About what grows where in the northern plains."
This girl, when did she...
"So?"
"We have the answer!"
Lize began counting on her fingers.
"We ally with some of the starving Kuman tribes. We give them grain, and they gather the blue-red herb for us. Then we sell it to the Empire."
"Demand is guaranteed..."
"Of course."
"Their supply sources burned, so no competitors..."
"Just us."
It made sense.
Any other herb might be iffy, but the blue-red herb had rock-solid demand.
In my previous life terms, it was like Viagra with a pregnancy-rate booster tacked on.
Nobles or wealthy commoners alike would line up for it.
I was just about to nod when...
"Young master."
The red-bearded knight approached.
It was the one who'd bragged about his wild boar earlier. His expression was oddly stiff.
"What is it?"
"I saw some central government guys talking to the prisoners earlier."
"Central government?"
"From what I overheard, they seemed to think the Kuman prisoners could be useful for something. Didn't catch the details."
The central government interested in Kuman prisoners?
Why would they care about a bunch of northern barbarians?
Hic!
Then, a choking gasp came from beside me.
It was Lize.
Her face had gone stark white.
"This is bad."
"Why?"
"If the central folks swoop in and take the prisoners first... our plan's toast."
"Haha! Miss Lize, what are you so worried about?"
Sir Heinrich let out a hearty laugh.
"H-ha, but..."
"Do you know what it means that our young master is now an heir candidate?"
"What?"
Lize blinked.
"It means he can crush any run-of-the-mill central bureaucrat with sheer authority. Who captured those prisoners in the first place?"
He was right.
I was now the official heir candidate of House Krushtein.
I hadn't wanted it. But it came with the privileges.
Some mid-level administrator from the capital wasn't someone I'd lose to in a straight clash.
Lize's expression brightened a bit.
"Th-that's true."
"So quit freaking out."
Sir Heinrich gave Lize's head a light tap.
Then a voice came from the side.
"Blue-red herb business, huh."
It was Sir Wolfram.
The one-eyed, bald knight with the eyepatch. He was resting his chin on his hand, watching us.
"I want in. Investment."
Lize's eyes went wide.
"In-invest?"
"Why? Problem?"
"N-no. But why..."
Sir Wolfram tapped his eyepatch.
"There are people like you and me out there, not exactly in peak condition. We just wait for good medicine to hit the market. And when it does, we have to snap it up fast."
This world wasn't without cures for disabilities, but they were rare and mostly dependent on freshness.
"Thing is, I just blew all my coin on a fine axe recently. Gotta earn it back quick."
Lize's eyes wavered.
Sir Wolfram extended his hand.
"Let's do it together, little miss."
Lize took it.
"...Please take good care of me."
Sir Wolfram glanced at the other knights.
"You lot want in?"
The red-bearded knight waved it off.
"I'm good."
"Why? Don't want to make money?"
"Too much wealth dulls the blade."
Sir Wolfram smirked.
"Then our lord's blade must be pretty dull too."
"That's a different matter. His talent's on another level from ours."
A few chuckles broke out. But they didn't last.
Another knight cut in.
"Be straight with me, Wolfram."
"What?"
"Jumping in now means picking a faction."
Silence fell.
The bonfire crackled sharply.
Firelight danced across the knights' faces. No one spoke.
"I haven't picked a side yet."
A few knights nodded at that.
Eyes full of agreement.
That's when it hit me.
Sir Wolfram's investment pitch wasn't just about money.
Ernst and me.
In the fight for succession, whose side to take.
Investing in the blue-red herb venture was a public declaration of allegiance to me. Right here, in front of the duke's core retainers.
So that man...
My gaze turned to Sir Wolfram.
Bald, eyepatch. The guy who'd spent everything on an axe.
He'd chosen me.
But why?
Lize's business proposal appeal?
Or had he seen Sir Heinrich?
Sir Heinrich had stuck with me since Granfeldt. Fought the Kumans alongside me. And now, here he stood by my side without a hint of objection.
My father's top ten closest aides.
Two of them siding with me.
What were they betting on?
My heart pounded faster.
Thump thump.
Too heavy a weight for a ten-year-old heart.
But I couldn't let it show.
I stood up.
"Then let's go check it out. The prisoner camp."
Said it lightly.
Sir Heinrich rose with me. Sir Wolfram too.
Lize hurried to my side with quick steps.
I could feel the aura of the two knights flanking me protectively.
And the gazes of the knights who stayed behind.
**
On the way to the prisoner camp.
As I walked, I thought it over.
Yeah, not all bad.
Whatever the future holds, enjoy the now.
My authority had grown—that much was fact.
Two passing soldiers spotted me and bowed deeply.
"Legion Commander!"
Booming voices.
I nodded in salute.
A bit farther on, soldiers hauling supplies cleared the path. They halted their wagons and bowed their heads.
"All clear!"
I nodded again.
Military discipline was as solid as ever.
As ever?
Thinking about it, they'd always treated me with respect.
Of course. They were my soldiers.
My first week on the job: publicly executed the supply officer, personally lopped off the deputy legion commander's head, salted the corpse, and shipped it back home.
Word of that had spread through the entire legion.
And I wasn't just some terrifying boss. After purging the embezzler, their meal rations had jumped two levels.
Plus, just recently, I'd led them to a massive victory.
This was how they'd been even before the heir candidate talk.
I'd been fooling myself.
"Impressive."
A voice from beside me.
Sir Wolfram.
He glanced around and nodded.
"Tight discipline."
"An elite force that captured over a thousand of the Kuman tribe's crack cavalry."
Sir Heinrich replied.
"That was the little brother's one-on-one win. They didn't do much, or so they say?"
"Be that as it may, it was possible because they were here."
"Haha, humble."
Sir Wolfram smirked.
Ahead, the fence of the prisoner camp came into view.
In front of the prisoner camp.
A familiar carriage was already there.
Ornate crest. Golden eagle emblem. The imperial seal.
My expression hardened.
"We have visitors."
Sir Heinrich muttered under his breath.
The heartiness from earlier was gone from his face.
We stepped inside.
A voice drifted over.
"So if you head south and help maintain order, you'll be rewarded with solid pay."
It was Duchess Clara.
That old hag had eyed the prisoners strangely earlier, but to come all the way here...
White hair. Wrinkled face. But a voice sharp and clear.
A handful of Kuman prisoners knelt before her. An interpreter stood by, relaying her words.
Southern security?
She planned to use them as mercenaries?
Sir Heinrich pressed close to my side. Sir Wolfram stepped forward a pace.
Throw down with heir candidate authority?
Won't fly against that hag.
If I'm a box of future duke potential, she's a current duchess.
And that's not all.
The emperor's aunt. One of the Empire's top heavyweights. My authority was tissue paper before her.
Duchess Clara turned her head.
Our eyes met.
A smile. The smile of the hag who'd tried to kill me.
"Oh, there you are."
Her voice was like a doting grandmother greeting her grandson.
"Perfect timing. We'll discuss the marriage arrangements leisurely back in the capital."
Of course, I had zero intention of going through with any marriage she arranged.
But now wasn't the time to bring it up.
"Your Highness. What brings you here?"
I bowed at the waist.
Politely. Impeccably.
"As you see, I'm offering these men jobs."
Duchess Clara gestured to the prisoners.
"The southern rebellion's been quelled, but remnants linger. Security's shaky. Their help would be welcome."
She called it maintaining order, but really, it was turning them into the Empire's hounds.
From their perspective, though, it might be a decent gig. Better to mercenary than starve. At least there'd be meals.
In fact, most of the prisoners were already nodding along to her proposal.
The blue-red herb business looked dead in the water.
But there was no countering it.
I couldn't openly defy Duchess Clara's authority.
That was when I felt a slight tug on my sleeve.
Lize.
She leaned in close and whispered in my ear.
"Tell her to take everyone except fifty."
What?
"We only need fifty to make it work anyway."