Chapter 25
Chapter 25
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: To the Mercado Slave Market
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‘What in the world should I do about this?’
Prince Julius simply couldn’t sleep a wink.
There was no way the royal family would stoop to something as low as abducting elves. Even if, by some stretch, they had done it.
Then who in their right mind would plant the royal banner at the scene?
‘It has to be the Sword Family’s doing. No doubt about it.’
Though he had no hard evidence, Julius was convinced it was all the Sword Family’s scheme. They’d been careful not to leave any proof behind, of course.
He wanted to explain this frustrating truth to the elves, but pointing fingers at the Sword Family could...
Spark a war between the elves and the Sword Family.
War was bad enough, but the real problem was the utter lack of evidence implicating them.
One wrong move, and it’d give the Sword Family the perfect excuse to claim the royals were framing them for crimes they didn’t commit.
Yet he couldn’t just sit idly by and let the elves detain him without a fight.
If he vanished too, who would support his father in the grueling battles at the palace?
‘But I can’t let innocent Shield Family blood be spilled either. What am I supposed to do?’
A sense of helplessness washed over Julius as he found himself paralyzed, unable to act.
Then, the words of the Shield Family’s Third Young Master flashed through his mind.
-Think far ahead and look far beyond. Don’t fixate on what’s right in front of you. View the situation on a grand scale, and a path will surely open.
Why did those words surface now, of all times? Still, that advice from before steeled Julius’s resolve.
“...Right. Let’s think big picture. For now... it’s time for me to go with the elves.”
The palace might descend into chaos for a while. The fragile alliances holding it together could scatter like grains of sand.
But the Shield Family was the only hope left to keep the Sword Family in check. He couldn’t waste their strength pointlessly.
This went beyond royal troubles—it concerned the safety of the entire kingdom.
‘I’ll step back for now, Sword Family. But I’ll repay this humiliation one day.’
It wasn’t all bad, though.
By volunteering to accompany the elves, the prince could prevent needless bloodshed.
Won’t that paint a pretty picture for the nobles?
Comforting himself with that thought, Julius headed to Bacchus’s study despite the late hour—before he could second-guess himself.
Wonder what’s going on...
The mansion was in an uproar, even at this hour.
‘What’s all the commotion?’
The bustle didn’t last long. Soon, a group emerged from the mansion and departed through the gates.
‘Where are they rushing off to in the dead of night?’
Julius’s question didn’t linger unanswered.
“What? He’s already left? Young Master Jerome?”
“...Yes. It’s late, and I’m rather tired. Your Highness, I apologize, but could you handle the rest with my knight, Sir Arandal?”
“No, why on earth—!”
In the midst of the chaos, Bacchus wore a wistful expression as he left the study. Arandal stepped in to take his place.
“Now, now, Your Highness! I know it’s a shock, but please calm down and hear me out. The truth is...”
After hearing the full story from Arandal, Julius couldn’t hide his astonishment.
“What?! He did this for the kingdom...? How on earth can I repay the debt I owe Young Master Jerome?”
His admiration doubled upon learning Jerome had volunteered. But that wasn’t all.
“Oh, and the Third Young Master left a message for you, Your Highness.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“He instructed us to deliver 40,000 sacks of wheat to you, since you’ll surely need the grain procured from the Nile. He apologizes that the Shield Family must support our northern territories as well, so we can’t provide more.”
The apology was pure modesty. Forty thousand sacks wasn’t lavish, but it was plenty to aid the capital’s nobles loyal to the crown.
“Heavens...! Father was right after all.”
Far from the rumors calling him a parasite, the Shield Family’s Third Young Master was a wise soul who saw far ahead.
‘He didn’t even look that old.’
Julius vowed to make Jerome one of his own. The young master had achieved his goal and freed him from a dire bind.
“I’ve received a tremendous favor from him. How can I ever repay...”
As Julius basked in the glow of gratitude, Arandal spoke plainly.
“By the way, there was a bit more. If you’re grateful, Your Highness, he said to repay it with cash.”
“...Cash?”
“Yes. Forty thousand sacks of wheat at five silver per sack, no haggling. He’ll hand them over only if you issue a royal promissory note for the full 20,000 gold.”
The wave of emotion drained from Julius, replaced by something else.
Five silver a sack? That was five times the market rate!
“...That heartless, dogshit son of a—”
“Finally, he asked you to consider that the Sword Family offered three silver per sack plus a Gift Ring for the Nile grain—and that he’s leaving with the elves right now.”
The curse rising in Julius’s throat caught at the end.
The Sword Family’s Gift Ring was worth more than a measly two silver difference per sack. In the end, different words escaped his lips.
“...Fine. I’ll contact the treasury and make arrangements.”
“Thank you, Your... er, Your Highness.”
As Julius returned to his room, Jerome’s words echoed in his mind once more.
‘Right, stabilizing our people comes first. A few tens of thousands of gold are nothing. Yeah, nothing... damn it all.’
A curse finally slipped out in his thoughts. He owed Jerome a debt and felt grateful, true.
But that was that, and this was this.
Last night, right after I volunteered, the meeting wrapped up, leaving just Father, Arandal, and me. Father asked calmly,
“Are you sure about this?”
“Well, there’s no one else who could step up, right? It’s about time I earned my keep. Gotta make use of this rice-munching slob who just lounges around my quarters eating you out of house and home. Oh, but I have a couple requests.”
“Requests?”
“First, after I leave, don’t sell more than 40,000 sacks of wheat to Prince Julius, even if he asks. This grain was procured for our territory and the northern lords. Plus, the Five Nations Alliance might request aid soon. For smooth relations and preserving strength, we need to hold at least 60,000 sacks in reserve.”
Father nodded readily.
“That’s no request at all. It’s what I planned anyway.”
“Second—and this is key—set the price at five silver per sack.”
This time, Father looked genuinely surprised.
“Five silver? Too much. We’re a loyal house to the kingdom. We can’t gouge the royals with such outrageous prices.”
“It’s not outrageous at all. The Sword Family offered three silver per sack plus a Gift Ring for Nile grain. And now, with famine hitting the continent, jacking up prices won’t raise eyebrows. Besides...”
I pointed at myself.
“I don’t think my life’s worth less than that. Father, you’re not planning to sell cheap to the royals, are you?”
“Of course not. Loyalty doesn’t mean forgoing fair pay. But five silver’s still excessive. They might suspect I harbor other motives.”
“No, it’ll work. Tonight, the prince will come looking for you. From what I’ve seen, he’ll steel himself and seek you out. Then you leave the room with a grief-stricken face and send in Sir Arandal.”
“Ho.”
“Even a loyal Master like you won’t be faulted for not responding as the parent who sent his child into danger in the prince’s stead. Handle everything through Arandal. Have him relay all my messages as my instructions.”
In other words, pin the blame on me. But once resolved successfully, no one could nitpick. Father stroked his chin, then nodded.
“Fine. We’ll do it that way. Any more requests?”
“One last one. If we pull this off and get 20,000 gold, give me half—10,000 gold flat.”
“Ten thousand gold?”
Both Father and Arandal looked stunned at my boldness. That sum equaled three to five years of the Shield Family’s budget.
“I’ll be busting my ass spinning plates from here on out. I need that much to grease the wheels. We’re already losing ground in influence—if my pockets aren’t fat, how can I keep my crew fed properly?”
My path ahead was full of grind. Even for Father, I wouldn’t let him shortchange me like some sacrificial lamb. Black sheep? Pass.
Besides, if this succeeded, I’d need cash for the next play. A lot of it.
“...Alright. But from your demeanor, you seem awfully confident this will work.”
To Father’s words, I just smiled silently.
Luckily, he accepted without fuss, and Arandal joined in eagerly, like it was the best fun ever.
As Father guessed, I hadn’t volunteered without a safety net.
Not widely known yet, but after the Holy Empire’s world opened up, slave markets burst into the open properly.
One shadowy operation debuted on the continent with jaw-dropping scale.
Such a market doesn’t spring up overnight. It’s probably still the biggest in the underworld.
‘Conveniently close geographically, and Minerva’s daughter? Elves famed for beauty. For top dollar on premium goods like that, there’s only one place.’
As I sorted my thoughts, a grumbling voice came from beside me.
“...Fine, whatever. But that ‘rice-munching slob’ you mentioned? That’s me, right?”
“Didn’t you know?”
“You little—?”
As Saladin, my traveling companion and rice-munching slob, reached for his berserk button, a nearby elf cut in coldly.
“Acting like it’s a damn picnic. Mark my words—if anything happens to Her Highness the Princess, not just you lot, but Banten will pay too.”
“No, seriously, why am I even—!”
Saladin yelled in frustration.
But we ignored the shut-in puppet-tinkerer. The elf ranger captain and I alike. He’d just be noisy.
The ranger captain who’d spoken coldly turned to me again. Ash, was it?
“Shield Family’s third son, right? No special tracking skills since leaving Banten. Any idea where the princess was taken?”
“Of course. Elves are hugely popular among humans. Slave hunters risk their necks, so they head where the price is highest. Only one place trades elves for top coin.”
“I see. You’d better be right. Fail to find her, and the queen’s wrath falls on your kingdom. And...”
Ash seemed to nod briefly at my words.
Slap!
She swung her hand full force at my face.
“Don’t you dare speak of the princess so irreverently again. She’s no mere object. One more word like that, and I’ll cut out your tongue. You can guide us in writing just fine.”
“...Noted.”
Back in the territory, she’d bowed politely to Father and all that jazz. All lies, in the end.
“...Tch!”
But Ash quickly hid her slapping hand in her cloak.
Figured.
The moment it connected, she’d laced her palm with steel.
It must sting like hell.
Pain aside, the slap was humiliating. Damn it. I’d remember that one.
“Anyway, where are we headed now? It’s getting colder by the minute.”
Saladin rubbed his arms against the chill.
“Obviously. We’re heading further north.”
“What? Where to?”
I brushed snow from my nose as I answered Saladin’s question.
“Sharon Kingdom.”
“What? You don’t mean...”
“Yeah.”
Yeah. As a Black Lion, Saladin would know.
“The continent’s largest slave market, Mercado.”