Chapter 60
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Creating a Variable
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"Why did you think of that?"
"We need to create a variable."
"A variable?"
"Things are stable around the 7th Legion right now. The foreigners are keeping their heads down after their big defeat recently, and supplies are flowing smoothly. Nothing major is going to erupt."
"And that's the problem."
"Exactly. From the Imperial side, there's no reason to replace the 7th Legion's commander. It runs fine no matter who's in charge."
The achievements I'd built up were now binding me tight.
"So we need to make it not run fine. The north has been peaceful because you've been holding it down, young master. What do you think will happen if you step away?"
"That's why we're using the Golden Bear Tribe."
"Yes."
The logic was flawless.
I turned to the Kuman knight. His face wasn't entirely unfamiliar, but I couldn't recall his name.
"What's your name?"
"Batur, sir."
"Batur. Go to the Golden Bear Tribe."
His expression stiffened.
"The Golden Bears?"
"Yeah."
"Me?"
"Who else is here besides you?"
The Golden Bear Tribe. They had a three-generation blood feud with the Red Deer Tribe.
What reason would Kuulruk have had for leading the Red Deer to surrender to the Empire?
He'd been pushed out by the Golden Bears, who were chased by the Ice Dragon.
"I... um..."
"I know you don't want to go to those enemies of yours. But you get it. This is just using you."
Batur's shoulders twitched.
"So what am I supposed to do when I get there?"
"Arrange a meeting. In neutral territory. I'll handle the detailed negotiations myself."
"B-but if an outsider like me goes into their territory..."
"I know."
I opened a drawer. A metal piece dangling from a leather cord. Shaped like a bear claw.
I tossed it over.
Batur snatched it out of the air. His eyes widened.
"This is the Golden Bears'..."
"I got it last time Shore came. If you show them that, they'll at least hear you out."
I took down the sword hanging on the wall.
A fine sword inlaid with silver ornamentation. A recent gift from my father.
"Young master. That..."
Lize trailed off.
"You'll be the driver."
I held the sword out to Batur.
The silver on the scabbard gleamed.
"I can't accept this."
"Take it."
"A fine sword bearing the house crest..."
"That's why I'm giving it to you."
Batur's gaze darted between the sword and my face.
A ducal house's fine sword. It wasn't just any weapon.
Giving it to him meant he wasn't some errand boy—he was my representative.
The Golden Bears weren't fools. The moment they saw the crest on the sword, they'd know the weight this man carried.
"Why me? We have the captain, and other knights too. Why specifically..."
Batur asked. His voice had lowered.
"You seem smart."
"Pardon?"
"Kuulruk is strong. I'll give him that."
I leaned back against the chair.
"He's an excellent knight and an excellent chieftain. He has leadership, charisma, and above all, martial prowess. But he's not exactly the cautious type, is he? Charging in recklessly... That's not a good mindset right now."
"Well... true."
"What we need now is a cautious knight. One who listens to the other side, reads the situation, and knows when to step back if needed. Competent knights are rare enough, but cautious and competent ones are even rarer. You're cautious, and at your level, you're no weakling. As an Expert, they won't dismiss you outright. You called it 'Great Warrior' in your tongue, right?"
I forced the sword into his hand. He accepted it.
He rolled it in his grip, as if gauging its weight.
It was a honeyed compliment, but that wasn't the only reason.
What if I sent Kuulruk himself? He'd send Batur back, listen to the explanation, mull it over, and only then move. Days would fly by. Even with another Kuman knight, it'd be the same.
Sending an Imperial knight who wasn't Kuman?
That was even worse.
Even with the Golden Bear token, they might strike first, and they wouldn't know the local terrain well.
Batur buckled the scabbard to his waist. The silver clashed oddly with his worn leather belt.
After brushing off his dust just enough, offering some blessings, and turning away...
Thud!
I turned my head. Batur was prostrated on the floor.
His knees hit first, then his forehead smacked the stone.
A dull sound echoed across the cold stone.
"I will not disappoint the young master's expectations!"
His voice trembled.
Overkill. He'd just received a single sword, yet he acted like he was pledging his life.
Were steppe men all like this? Or was it just knights?
Truth be told, I wasn't expecting that much from him.
Whatever. Delusion or, as long as he was useful, it didn't matter.
"Departure at dawn tomorrow. Get any preparations done today. I'll map the route for you."
"I obey."
Batur stood. The fine sword swayed at his hip.
The door closed.
Only after his footsteps faded did Lize speak.
"I didn't expect you'd give him the fine sword too. Doesn't it feel like a waste?"
"That's exactly why I gave it."
"Huh?"
"If you give something cheap, they only move as much as it's worth."
One key fact we must underscore: the Azure Crimson Herb trade continued.
The trade routes being blocked didn't mean trade stopped entirely.
We quickly found detours, somehow or other.
The baron's title helped.
I formally brought Kuulruk and a few of his men under my name.
But profitability itself plummeted.
We had to take long detours. More time, more costs.
Kuulruk's men alone couldn't cover the entire new route. The segments were longer than the old legion supply lines.
We hired mercenaries.
Horseback skills, archery, martial prowess. All inferior to Kuman warriors.
Still, we used them.
In professional terms, a high-low mix.
A strategy blending elites and grunts.
Kuulruk's men handled the key sections; mercenaries filled the rest.
The important thing was scale.
Five escorts? Bandits attack. Twenty? They hold off.
Fifty? They don't even think about it.
Mercenary skill didn't matter. Just numbers.
If a real fight broke out, Kuulruk's men would handle it.
And so the new trade route began rolling.
Slow, inefficient, high-cost.
But rolling.
Top of the desk: this month's revenue report.
22% drop from last month.
Not bad, all things considered.
Within expectations. Detours jacked up transport costs.
Next page. Mercenary hiring costs.
Lower than expected. Lize must've negotiated well.
Then, Azure Crimson Herb market fluctuations. Southern merchant buy prices creeping up.
Not bad. Higher unit prices offset reduced volume somewhat.
The question was how long this would last.
I set the papers aside and looked out the window.
A sand table laid out in one corner of the courtyard.
Fine white sand. Surface smoothed flat with a broom.
Elisabeth crouched there. The tip of the twig in her hand scratched the sand.
Numbers etched in. Two vertical columns. Multiplication.
Another maid crouched beside her.
Twig in hand too, scratching numbers into the sand likewise.
Whenever her hand paused, she glanced at Elisabeth.
Lize stood behind them both. Arms crossed. Not interfering.
When calculations finished, they transcribed to bamboo slips.
Thinly split and woven bamboo.
Accounting ledgers. Income, expenses, balances. Sorted by segment.
Parchment would be nicer, but cost was an issue.
This world had cheap parchment and hides. Azure Crimson Herb—or stronger but riskier herbs—worked well on livestock too.
So cheap alternatives like paper or papyrus never developed. Or rather, paper in this world was already that kind of thing.
Still, full leather ledgers were burdensome.
Making paper would be cheaper.
I'd thought about it. Pulp from trees, pressed. I knew the principle. Never put it into practice. Too much on my plate now.
And there was one more variable.
Duke Sylvesta.
He was watching the maids from beside me. Expression leisurely.
A 1,800-year-old elf. No telling what calculations spun in that head.
Double-entry bookkeeping. Vertical notation. Hangul I'd taught Lize.
That alone was abnormal enough.
Add paper on top?
Not genius—something else.
Reincarnator. Possessor.
No idea if those concepts existed here.
But an elf who'd lived 1,800 years had likely seen every freakish thing.
And others might not know, but I did.
Reincarnators existed in this world.
Best to stay quiet for now.
Watching the maids huddle and record, I started getting bored.
Maybe eat those gifted cookies?
As I turned toward the confectionery box...
Murmurs from outside.
I looked out the window again.
The maids were standing. Slips set down, all staring the same direction.
Toward the main gate.
Dust rose. Hoofbeats followed.
Batur.
Faster than expected. I'd figured half a month at least.
But he wasn't alone.
Cavalry following. Ten—no, twenty men. Different attire. Not Red Deer armor.
Golden Bear Tribe.
Why?
We'd agreed on neutral border territory. Why'd they come here themselves?
The leader up front caught my eye.
Small stature for a warrior.
Shore.
Someone of her rank came personally?
The courtyard buzzed.
Batur leaped from his horse. Ran to Lize.
"Chief of Staff. We must see the young master immediately."
"Not Chief of Staff. I'm head maid now. And it's not young master—it's Baron, Your Excellency."
"No time for that. It's urgent. Extremely urgent..."
What's so urgent?
I turned to head downstairs.
Footsteps followed.
Duke Sylvesta.
"Mind if I join you?"
Not a question. A declaration he'd follow.