How Much Would It Cost? (1)
By the time they had fully cleared the barrier protecting the witch’s house, the baron asked Roy as they walked the forest path.
“When exactly do you plan on showing me that spirit of yours? And why won’t you say what kind it is?”
“Is it that interesting to you?”
“Of course it is. Spirits are originally the exclusive privilege of those with the blood of a count or higher. Anyone below that finds it extraordinarily difficult to contract a useful spirit. Only a handful ever manage it.”
“Because of mana capacity?”
“That’s right.”
“But someone of your level should be able to, Father. Why haven’t you contracted one? You even drank the Elven Liquor.”
With the added help of a mana vein, the baron could have contracted a fairly useful spirit without much trouble.
“I’m a swordsman. The blade suits me better than magic.”
“If you look carefully, there are spirits that aid swordsmanship as well.”
“Oh? You’re quite certain of that. Don’t tell me the spirit you contracted this time is one of those?”
“You’re quick on the uptake.”
“Hooh, is that so? Show me, then.”
Curiosity flooded the baron’s eyes. He looked ready to burst with eagerness to see it at once. Of course he would be curious—it wasn’t just any spirit, but one said to help with the sword.
“I can’t.”
“What? Why not! If it’s that good, this father of yours wants to contract one too. Hurry up and show me.”
“You can’t contract it, Father.”
“What? Are you looking down on your own father?”
“It’s not that, but you said you heard everything from Lily—about what I had to do to summon the spirit.”
“Hmm… that’s true.”
“So I can’t. And my spirit is said to be unique.”
“What?”
“It’s the only one of its kind in the world. Until I die and the contract ends, even a king probably couldn’t summon it.”
“You seem to have called forth quite an impressive fellow.”
Roy answered with open arrogance.
“Something like that. But summoning it takes far too much mana, so I can’t show you right now.”
That was a lie. Roy pictured Noah’s form and let out a sigh. Somehow he felt embarrassed to let anyone else see it. For the past two days he had begged and pleaded for the spirit not to come out.
How am I supposed to explain that little kid…
And it wasn’t only the appearance. Why did the way of speaking have to be like that too? The more he thought about it, the more the future worried him. He would soon have to leave for the capital, and at the Knight Academy there would surely be occasions when he had to bring the fellow out. Already he had more than a couple of concerns—whether strange rumors would start flying for no reason, whether Noah would commit some enormous blunder in front of high nobles or royalty.
“Fine. If you insist that far, I’ll drop it. There will come a day to see it eventually. That aside, where did the sword I gave you for your seventh birthday go? When we arrived here I clearly saw it at your waist.”
“I gave that sword to Lily.”
“Why?”
“It’s a magic-enchanted blade, isn’t it? It will be useful for protecting herself while she lives as a woman. She’s my older sister for the time being, after all. Before that, she’s your daughter.”
“Ahem…”
The baron suddenly began coughing dryly. Being pointed out so directly seemed to be a first for him; he looked thoroughly flustered. Roy felt extremely pleased, as though he had properly seized one of the baron’s weak spots.
“Let’s head this way for a moment.”
“Why there all of a sudden?”
“You’ll understand once you follow. It will only take a little while.”
Roy walked in the exact opposite direction from the village where they had left the horses. The baron kept his guard up, thinking, What is this boy scheming this time?
After a short while they reached the place Roy wanted—right near the edge where the barrier that hid the witch’s house began. Roy suddenly started digging into the earth.
“What are you doing right now?”
“I buried something here a few days ago.”
“What is it?”
“Just some herbs. Your bag is empty, isn’t it, Father? Lend it to me for a moment.”
Roy took the baron’s bag and carefully packed the items that had been buried underground, one by one. These things, wrapped with care in cloth, were none other than the ingredients for brewing Elven Liquor.
As expected, they haven’t spoiled easily. Is it a huge relief that it’s winter? I’ll make it the moment I return to the mansion.
From the very start of gathering the materials, Roy had collected twice the amount the witch required. He had secretly hidden half of it here.
How much could I earn if I made and sold Elven Liquor? No—why would I sell something that precious?
He didn’t know the exact figure, but it would fetch whatever price one named. Yet he would never sell it. He could simply make money by selling magic-enchanted weapons instead.
I’ll keep them safely and use them later for political purposes, or use them to lure capable companions. The best would be exchanging them for other Dragon’s Breath.
Roy grinned slyly as various uses floated through his mind. Watching from behind, the baron found himself rethinking whether introducing this particular son to the witch had truly been for the good of the family.
After a full half-month away, Roy returned to the mansion and immediately plunged into an extremely busy routine. The first task was brewing the Elven Liquor. With the dried ogre heart he had cut from the witch’s house, most of the preparations were already complete.
If it had been an ordinary ogre, it would have been difficult, wouldn’t it?
The specimen they had hunted that day had been such a massive brute that its heart was enormously larger than a normal ogre’s. The heart leather produced by drying that huge organ remained in generous supply even after the witch used some for brewing. Roy had cut off a portion with permission. Since it was only for making a fermentation pouch, it did not need to be especially large—after all, the finished liquor would amount to little more than a chick’s urine.
Now I only have to wait for the liquor to ferment…
Using the sizable mana stone from the corrupted unicorn, he hastily produced intermediate mana solution. Nearly half went into brewing the liquor, yet the remainder was enough to restore most of the damaged amulets. Spare amulets still remained at the mansion as well, so self-defense preparations were finished for the time being. All of it proceeded without a hitch.
“Has the third young master returned? We never get to see him.”
“He’s down in the basement. I heard he’s doing some kind of magic research.”
“Misha, don’t you know anything? You’re the one assigned to him.”
“Me? N-no. He just calls me often because I’m easy to boss around.”
“Still, you must know something.”
“I don’t. Even I’m forbidden from the basement.”
“The lord has been terribly busy ever since he came back, too. Where exactly did just the father and son go off to?”
“He’s heading to the Knight Academy soon, so maybe they went to make a few memories beforehand?”
“Is that so?”
The baron, who had also been away for a full half-month, was spending equally busy days handling the mountain of work that awaited him. Winter’s quiet had allowed the long absence, and Chief Butler Ibaldo’s presence had helped as well.
Still, we returned earlier than planned.
The baron had set out prepared to be gone for nearly a month. It had been a wager with the family’s fate on the line. Fortunately his proud son had passed the witch’s trial in a mere three days, allowing him to slash the schedule dramatically.
If he ever found out I had budgeted a full month, that boy would raise hell again. I already extracted several hundred gold coins from him as the price for those extra three days.
The baron allowed the corner of his mouth to lift. He was no ordinary operator himself. While pretending to lose on the surface, he had taken everything he could from Roy.
This side of things is more or less finished. Time to start the other side soon.
The baron had a project in mind of late—one that would cost a great deal of money.
“Ibaldo! I believe it is time to gradually reveal the plan to the administrators.”
“I also judge the present moment appropriate.”
The barren-land reclamation project. They intended to open up regions they had never dared touch because of monsters, greatly expanding farmland. This was no small village’s worth of land. They planned to reclaim an area comparable to the broad wheat fields in the north of the territory and appoint a new sub-lord as well. Being able to finally act on something he had long only considered was largely thanks to his son Roy’s achievements.
“To think the single step that child took would stir a wind this far.”
The baron smiled with genuine pleasure, and Ibaldo offered praise.
“It is hard to believe the young master is still only eleven.”
“Indeed. He is a fellow who will go far. As his father I cannot hold him back. Is that other matter being prepared properly?”
“I have already requested it of Cokes at the armory shop. Word should arrive soon.”
“Good. At any rate, once that troublemaker is gone the mansion will be quiet.”
After staring into empty air for a moment, lost in thought, the baron quickly collected himself and returned to clearing the backlog of work.
The rumor that the baron was launching a reclamation project raced through the entire territory on wings of gossip.
“I knew it. Monsters inside the territory have been drying up lately.”
“Those weapons made by that fellow Geren must be genuinely good. Not just people from other territories—mercenaries from neighboring countries are coming too, they say.”
“Rich mercenaries can simply buy one and leave, but plenty arrive without a single coin. Even the penniless ones know those weapons are worth having.”
Word of the magic-enchanted weapons had already spread throughout the kingdom and into neighboring countries. Members of the Karl Mercenary Group’s branch offices—scattered across the continent with their own communication networks—could hardly remain unaware. Naturally everyone wanted to visit Greenhilt territory. The saying “If you want to become a great mercenary, take up Geren’s weapon!” had even become popular among mercenaries.
Not every mercenary who arrived was wealthy. Those without money intended to stay, earn coin, and purchase a weapon. Yet the sum the baron had contracted with the mercenary branch was limited. Consequently the mercenaries flooding the territory had no choice but to hunt monsters indiscriminately in order to scrape together funds.
Even without them, the magic-enchanted weapons had already completely reversed the balance between monsters and humans inside the territory. With hordes of mercenaries now running wild as well, monsters frequently abandoned their dens and fled. The number that became corpses in the process needs no mention.
As the old saying goes, the more people gather, the more commerce thrives. Starting with these mercenaries, people from all directions flocked in to buy weapons, and the city of Parolas was enjoying an unprecedented boom. The baron’s project rested on precisely this foundation.