True Education (1)
Monster blood has always been the most fundamental of all fundamental materials—essential to every form of enchantment magic and to alchemy alike.
Naturally, the higher a monster’s rank, the more precious its blood becomes, and when judging quality there is one factor that takes absolute precedence: freshness.
For long-term storage, it has to be turned into a mana solution.
But the sort of people who go around collecting and selling monster blood—do they even know the first letter of the word “magic”?
They simply harvest it roughly because it sells.
Being liquid, it weighs a great deal; fully eight-tenths of it hardens before it can be sold and ends up discarded.
It is no easy commodity to handle.
This thing called monster blood.
That is why high-grade blood is usually collected by mages who join the subjugation themselves, or else commissioned from a guild that has a competent mage among its members.
In my present circumstances, both options are impossible.
And so the question of how to obtain the blood had been a constant worry.
Then Marek brought the rumor.
This is an opportunity.
If he handled it well, he could secure a large quantity of fresh blood at once.
Buy as much as possible while he still could, convert it all into solution in a single batch, and draw on the stock for a long time afterward.
To do so, however, he would need a great many glass bottles and a separate place to store them.
He could not simply exhaust every gold coin he had making nothing but solution.
For the business to keep turning, money had to keep circulating; pouring everything into monster blood would be pure folly.
No help for it. Expand the scale gradually. For now, concentrate on securing even a little fresh blood.
He would have liked nothing better than to go out and hunt the monsters himself, yet neither the baron nor the baroness would ever give permission.
“That shopkeeper who deals in monster blood—casually let him know that if he brings the fresh blood of the monsters from this latest subjugation, you’ll pay double. Spin some story about alchemy or potions and he’ll freely assume Marek’s master is someone in that line of work.”
“Yes. That much is no longer difficult for me.”
Then a sudden curiosity struck him.
“Hmm… but haven’t the merchants been curious about me at all?”
“They never asked outright, yet they seemed extremely curious. The look in their eyes said they guessed a renowned mage was standing behind me.”
“Mm… rumors may start circulating soon. Was anyone following you on the way back?”
“No. At least not that I could see.”
“Good.”
There were none yet, but there was no telling when such a person might appear.
Rather than sit stupidly waiting for them to show themselves, it was better to dig the trap first and prepare for the danger.
Buying monster blood in bulk would inevitably draw eyes; they had to seize the initiative.
“Marek. Let’s settle the accounts first.”
“Settle?”
“Yes. I’m paying back the debt.”
All the gold they had earned so far was kept in Marek’s room, yet Roy began the reckoning then and there.
“Yesterday’s remainder plus today’s take makes twenty-six gold coins altogether, yes? At last we have a little breathing room. Exactly half—thirteen gold coins. That is Marek’s share.”
“What? But the money I lent you was—”
“The rest is a bonus. From now on Marek’s money is Marek’s to spend or hide as he likes. Starting next time I will use only my own gold for business.”
“……”
“Disappointed? Don’t worry. If we earn a great deal more, I’ll set aside a separate service fee for you. For the moment, how does one gold coin a month sound? On the understanding, of course, that Marek keeps faith with me completely.”
“Th-thank you.”
Marek’s face finally brightened.
“Ah, and you may keep all the leftover change as well. Also, we will stop selling daggers for the time being—until the fresh blood arrives.”
The mention of change barely reached Marek’s ears.
He was already gaping at the generous fee he had just received; Roy’s next words nearly made him faint on the spot.
O-one gold coin a month…
That was four times what he currently received from the baron—an enormous sum.
He had expected a comfortable amount from the dagger sales, yet this far exceeded every estimate and left him utterly dazed.
“Ah, and the wages you receive from the baron as his butler may of course remain yours. Just keep the secret absolutely.”
“Yes… I understand.”
When Roy had once ordered expensive earrings as a gift for Misha—who had merely kept watch a few times—while still owing him money, Marek had found it absurd.
Yet looking at the income Roy was generating, he had held his tongue, hoping something might eventually fall his way.
He had never dreamed a reward so far beyond those hopes was waiting.
He tried to keep his expression composed before the young master, but the corners of his mouth kept twitching upward.
Roy asked him:
“Ah! Did you check on that?”
He meant whether anyone had bought the entire previous shipment of magic daggers at once.
“I assumed the mercenaries near the guild would take them all, but the rumor doesn’t seem to have reached them yet. The people who happened into the weapon shop and bought on impulse are still keeping their mouths shut.”
“Sold out with no rumor… and to individuals at that…? That’s a good sign.”
Roy had been carefully watching for any single buyer who might monopolize the magic daggers.
Such a person would stop at nothing to track down the maker.
Fortunately, none had appeared yet.
“That weapon-shop owner seems rather clever.”
“That old man?”
“Yes. If he informed the mercenary companies, the stock would sell out the moment we delivered it. The fact that he releases them one by one here and there means he’s deliberately spreading the rumor as widely as possible, stirring competition so he can raise the price.”
“That…”
“But right now Marek holds the leash, so he’s flattering us to keep the deliveries coming. He still bought even after you doubled the price today, didn’t he?”
Marek could only work his mouth soundlessly.
“If we stop deliveries now there will be chaos. He’ll try every kind of persuasion, and he may even resort to threats.”
“M-me?”
“Yes. If that happens, Marek, simply reveal your identity. Once he learns you are a servant of the lord’s mansion, he’ll quiet down.”
“But then Young Master Roy’s identity—”
“Hmm? I’m only five years old. No matter how sharp the man is, he will never suspect me. At worst he might approach Father and try to negotiate exclusive dealings with the mage staying at the mansion.”
“I-isn’t that a problem as well? If the lord discovers Young Master’s activities…”
Roy smiled faintly.
“That is why we silence them in advance. If the merchant, blinded by money, approaches you, tell me first. I will handle it.”
In Roy’s view, such people were actually convenient to use.
Compared with those whose desires remained opaque, men whose wants were clear were far easier to manage.
Of course, how tightly they kept secrets varied from person to person; one had to choose carefully.
Jerry was staring out the window as usual that day.
“Hmm…?”
Until now Marek had been careful to keep out of Jerry’s sight.
Perhaps the large sum that had just fallen into his hands had left him too elated to remember caution.
“Why is that bastard…”
Jerry had spotted the two of them chatting cheerfully in the middle of the training ground.
He could not hear what they said from this distance.
Yet the sight of his little brother’s and Marek’s grinning faces somehow twisted his gut.
“Boodle. Why is Marek with Roy?”
“Marek has been Young Master Roy’s exclusive servant for several days now.”
“What? What kind of bullshit is that?”
“It was decided by the lord. The boy trained under me and the head butler for nearly five years. It would be a waste to send him back to his hometown for a single mistake.”
“Talent? That thing is talent? Hahahaha.”
Jerry laughed alone like a madman for a long while, then abruptly sobered.
“Leaving a dog that talks back to its master alive. Has Father lost his mind?”
“Young Master Jerry!”
“Ah—cancel, cancel. Forget the part about Father.”
Jerry sneered and turned his gaze back to the window.
“Looks like I’ll have to speak to Roy myself. As an older brother I can hardly pretend not to notice a mad dog that doesn’t listen and might bite its master at any moment hanging around my little brother, can I?”
“It would be better to leave it… The lord has already decided. If he learns of this he will certainly be angry.”
“That’s because Boodle knows only one thing and not two. If Roy himself says he doesn’t want the servant, why would Father be angry? Roy will simply choose someone new when he turns seven; kicking Marek out won’t matter.”
Jerry smirked at the now-silent Boodle and walked toward the door.
“Young Master Jerry… the lesson is not yet finished…”
“Boodle, just rest. You’re old; it must be hard on you.”
Ignoring whatever Boodle was still saying, Jerry strode out.
Watching the door slam shut, Boodle could only heave a deep sigh.
Where could he hide a large quantity of mana solution made from fresh monster blood?
Roy was deep in thought in his room when the door suddenly burst open, nearly stopping his heart.
“Anna! I’ve told you a hundred times to knock first— You’re not Anna.”
In nine cases out of ten it would have been Anna.
This time, however, a completely unexpected figure strode into the room.
“Little brother!”
“Brother Jerry… what brings you here?”
Jerry had visited Roy a few times in the past, and each time Roy had put on a weeping, sniveling act.
Partly because Jerry’s purpose had always been to torment him, and partly because Roy simply did not want his reading interrupted.
As a result Jerry had been scolded severely by the baron every time and had been placed under a kind of restraining order never to disturb Roy while he was reading.
It had been quite a while since Jerry last set foot in Roy’s room like this.
“You’ve been hanging around with Marek lately, haven’t you?”
“Yes. He’s my servant now.”
“Fire that bastard.”
“Why?”
“Because your brother tells you to, you brat.”
“I don’t want to. I need him right now, and Father already gave permission.”
“You little shit! When your brother tells you to do something, you do it!”
Roy was speechless.
What had twisted this crazy colt’s mind this time to make him throw such a tantrum?
“I don’t want to.”