Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: The Duke's Visit and Book Sales
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Max jumped in surprise at the visit from the great noble.
“W-Welcome!!”
“Pleased to meet you, Baron Ilrain. I’ve heard your governance is quite exemplary. Most encouraging.”
“Haha, I’m honored.”
Max was at a loss under Duke Helian’s praise.
“I apologize for the meager hospitality. Had I known you were coming, I would have prepared more.”
Max served the finest wine from the estate, but it seemed insufficient for great nobles’ tastes—no one touched it.
Marquis Linheart grumbled at this.
“It’s more a matter of protocol, isn’t it? Can’t you see the sun’s still high in the sky? Wine at this hour? Tea is the proper order of things.”
“Ah, uh….”
Max froze under Marquis Linheart’s overbearing attitude, but General Ironheart intervened.
“Baron Ilrain only recently inherited his title. Please be understanding, Marquis.”
“Hmph.”
Linheart, clearly displeased, didn’t seem to harbor any real malice toward Max and didn’t nitpick further.
It felt less like criticism and more like well-intentioned advice.
With that, Max began conversing with the Helian faction members.
Meanwhile, I stepped out of the drawing room to consult Dorothy on our territory’s agricultural status.
“How about it? I think we’ve done what we can.”
“Yeah…. It looks like effort was put in, but the results are just so-so.”
Dorothy reviewed the statistics and pointed out the inefficiencies.
“With numbers like these, it’s usually due to a poor harvest or unsuitable crops for the soil. I doubt your family made those mistakes. What happened?”
“We overlooked the soil differences. Back in Revel, we’d plant basic crops in early spring and start the main season late spring. But here, the soil’s poor, so the early planting failed.”
“Yeah, I heard Crossing focuses solely on tilling in early spring.”
“One misstep snowballed. The late spring crops didn’t yield much either. Sigh, if only I’d paid more attention.”
I’d been too busy with the academy and the war.
Dorothy pondered briefly before suggesting.
“I think Crossing needs fertilizer tailored to its soil. That’s the way to match or exceed other nations’ agricultural efficiency.”
“True, but it hasn’t worked out.”
King Paraine hadn’t been idle. Crossing led in fertilizer development due to excessive efforts.
The issue was that the fertilizers suited southern nations’ soil better, not Crossing’s—leading to tech theft and benefiting rivals.
“Hmm…. Then, Als, could you give me some local soil? I want to run experiments.”
“Really? I’ll pack some for you, no question.”
If Dorothy succeeded, it could be a historic breakthrough.
“Oh, don’t expect too much. I’m still a novice.”
“Just for considering it, thanks. I’ll have soil ready in your carriage when you leave.”
I planned to slowly recruit Dorothy as talent. We needed agriculture experts.
As we discussed farming, Gilbert Salleon approached from the other drawing room, tired of waiting.
“They’re still talking in there? How long do they plan to keep guests waiting?”
I handled him in Max’s stead.
“Sorry. It’s my brother’s first time entertaining multiple nobles at once….”
“Hmm. If you put it that way, I’ll let it slide this once.”
His gaze shifted to Dorothy.
“Countess Grimwood, aren’t you joining them?”
“Ahaha…. I’m still a rookie….”
“Rookie? You’re a full-fledged great noble with a countess title. Hah! Helian’s excluding talents like you just for being young.”
“That’s not….”
“Thinking about it, Dunhan’s death was largely his fault. If he’d assigned good aides to Dunhan, that tragedy wouldn’t have happened. Tsk tsk. If Wade had been at Dunhan’s side first, Dunhan surely wouldn’t have died.”
“….”
Dorothy, believing Casper was Wade, couldn’t help but waver at Gilbert’s words.
It sounded like Helian had deliberately blocked Wade from the start.
“Dunhan’s death saddened me too. Did you know? In his youth, he was my father Duke Altiore’s adjutant.”
“…I know.”
“Sigh…! Visit Gransel sometime. I’ll treat you to drinks, man to man.”
He truly deserved his reputation for political acumen from Duke Helian.
When Duke Helian emerged from his talk, Gilbert distanced himself from Dorothy as if nothing happened.
Max, joining for the send-off, widened his eyes at Gilbert’s face. He’d been tipped off but hadn’t expected the wait.
“Welcome, Sir Gilbert.”
Though head of another faction, Max couldn’t snub him and guided Gilbert to the drawing room.
Duke Helian watched displeased but could only wait and see.
*
*
*
Thus, the festival’s first and second days passed with me handling work and guests.
On the third day, I considered slacking off under work excuses, but Olaf arrived early morning with an armful of books.
“Ta-da! Managed the print run somehow, Als.”
Olaf had produced 100 copies for the first edition. His skills were terrifying.
Some might scoff at 100 books, but this world had good papermaking yet poor printing.
Woodblock printing dominated over metal type, and even that was inefficient—most books were hand-copied.
These were entirely hand-copied by 30 slaves with good handwriting.
‘Woodblock’s doomed long-term. Need to spread metal-type printing.’
Metal-type’s core was the press technology.
With vague modern knowledge of Gutenberg’s press, I awaited the artisan to realize it: one of my seven retainers, master craftsman Luke.
“Go sell them. I’ve set up the spot.”
“On second thought, I have urgent business today….”
“I’ll handle it.”
“You don’t even know what it is.”
“Whatever it is, I can manage. So go sell books, author.”
“Sigh, fine. Fine.”
I headed to the town square with Olaf’s laborers and books.
A cultural fair filled the square.
Musicians played instruments, performers danced and sang to the tunes. Painters displayed works everywhere.
Most sought patronage from nobles and influencers. Some came purely for art, but as they say, art needs money—their goal was cash.
Authors too.
Around 13, including me, stacked books and promoted.
With no copyright awareness, piracy thrived—yet books sold surprisingly well.
Not for direct profit, but fame leading to jobs like noble secretaries. High-noble secretaries gained wealth and honor, even marrying noble ladies as commoners.
‘They’re desperate. Wonder if mine’ll sell here.’
For them, life-or-death; for me, hobby.
Others shouted passionately, so I figured sitting quietly meant no attention.
“Is the author of this book?”
Three minutes in, a noblewoman asked.
“Ah, yes. Als…. No, Platina.”
“Platina…. A resonant, fine name.”
Grateful for interest, but I struggled on sales pitch.
‘Just say buy it? Or summarize?’
She asked about me, not contents.
“My, you’re from the family ruling this city.”
“Y-Yes…. That’s right.”
“What do you do when not writing?”
“Sorry, but I’d prefer questions about the book.”
“But knowing the author helps understand the book, no?”
“Umm….”
Normally I’d shut it down, but needing sales, I was conflicted.
So, I pivoted, steeling myself with a smile.
“What would you like to know?”
I grinned.
Used to such chats unwillingly, I easily took control.
“My, still an academy cadet. Which one?”
“Buy one more book, and I’ll tell.”
“I’ll buy.”
We bantered; she bought three.
“I’ll share the rest with friends. Hope they like it too.”
“They will.”
“See you again sometime?”
“If fate allows.”
“Hehe, until next time.”
She left satisfied.
“Whew!”
First sales gig, I sighed in relief.
My identity leaked, but as normal fiction, whatever.
It worked—customers kept coming.
Mostly women, including acquaintances.
“Als wrote this?”
“Wow! I wanna read!”
Kids who’d visited with Julia before.
Too cute to charge, so free copies.
‘Selling faster than expected?’
Might sell out before festival end.
“Ahem! One copy, please.”
A helmeted woman. Voice lowered, but obvious who.
“What’re you doing, Eo? Wasn’t it tea with Bisceta today?”
“E-Eo? Who…?”
“Fine. Here, five copies.”
“Five?”
“Share extras with friends.”
I boldly reduced stock. Eo clutched them dearly and vanished.
‘Come to think, Eo’s never read my book.’
Wonder her face learning she inspired the main heroine.
*
*
*
Aggressive sales worked; stock dwindled fast—but problems arose.
Three hours in, a crowd formed.
‘What now.’
Women pressed in oppressively.
One-on-one was manageable; crowds overwhelmed.
“Sorry, if you’ve bought, please step aside? Others are waiting.”
“Why? You chatted forever with that last one.”
“Urk…!”
No wonder business is tough. Good service breeds chaos.
“Keep talking!”
“Handshake for me too!”
I gritted teeth.
‘No choice—all or nothing.’
Treat everyone equally.
Forcing smiles amid the crowd—
“…What. Are you doing.”
A voice like falling icicles.
Estelle glared at me and the women with abyssal eyes.
Everyone flinched at her arrival.
“What is this? Maintain order. Disgraceful.”
Her sharp words embarrassed them.
Intimidated, they awkwardly retreated. Even I get chills sometimes; civilians worse.
“Ah, haha. Gotta go.”
“Enjoy the book!”
Crowd dispersed. I marveled.
“Wow. One shot clears them. Superpower?”
Pure awe from me; she murmured lowly.
“Sir Als. What are you doing? Partying with vixens?”
“W-Wait. Vixens?”
“Women. You misheard.”
Estelle approached interrogating, spotted books, face darkening.
“…I see. Today’s the day. Book sales.”
“Yes, thought festival’d sell well.”
She softened, understanding—but disliked my method.
“You selling personally isn’t good. For many reasons.”
“But partner insisted I do it. Said it’d fly off shelves.”
“Partner? Who?”
“The one who made them.”
“I get the intent, but that’s why no.”
“No other way? Unless you buy all?”
One book: 10,000 silane—100,000 won equivalent. Paper wasn’t cheap despite tech. This was low sans labor; normals exceeded 20,000.
“Fifty left, so 500,000 silane.”
Estelle astonishingly opened her purse.
But short, she shook head.
“Then I’ll join.”
“Huh?”
“Help sell.”
“Uh….”
Great idea. Her presence’d draw men too.
“Shall we?”
“Yes!”
Estelle sat content, like Solomon’s verdict—but someone objected.
“500,000 silane? Then. All of them.”
A woman had her servant proffer a fat gold pouch.
“But what service for bulk buy?”
Erina smiled at me.