The Merchant
The next day, having secured Father's permission to take the Black Terrahole, I set out for Vulkan with my aunt.
"So basically, the suspension moves up and down to absorb the shock, and then something called a shock absorber dampens the vibration?"
"That's right. The problem is, these shock absorbers need regular maintenance. Since we don't have rubber yet, the seals aren't tight enough, so I had to simplify the hydraulic system."
My aunt scribbled notes as she listened, nodding along.
We talked about all sorts of things. The more I shared of the knowledge I carried, the brighter her eyes shone.
"Incredible. How did you even come up with ideas like this?"
"I wasn't just rotting away in my room, you know."
Her entire attitude toward me had flipped in a single day.
"You really have no interest in joining Vulkan?"
Even her tone had changed.
"None."
"What a shame. I'd take good care of you, you know?"
The look in her eyes, too.
"No thanks."
"If you came to Vulkan, you could research so much more."
Even her reaction to my firm refusals.
"I'll... think about it."
If I kept shutting her down completely, she would only cling harder. Better to leave a little room and redirect. This wasn't the first time I'd dealt with people like her. Saying a flat no never made those shining-eyed types give up. It was a little annoying, but not entirely unpleasant.
"Mana stones are the raw material for all energy. You could call them the foundation of magitech engineering. This Black Terrahole runs on a mana-fail engine made from mana stones as well..."
New knowledge kept stacking up, and at the same time the gaping holes in my understanding of this world slowly filled in. It was a productive ride.
"Oppa, go faster! Faster!"
If only this one hadn't tagged along.
"I told you you didn't have to come."
"What are you talking about? What if we run into bandits or monsters on the way?"
Wendy Bladewyn.
Unlike the way she usually treated me, this little brat was a genuine elite. The only one in the Bladewyn family born with the talent of a magic swordsman. Apparently fewer than ten people in the entire Mardin Principality possessed that gift. More than half of them eventually gave up and chose a single path. Using both aura and circles at once was that difficult. And yet Wendy had pulled it off.
"You really think bandits could even catch the Black Terrahole?"
"Who knows? What if one of them has aura?"
"What kind of bandit has aura? And if one showed up, could you even beat him?"
"Eeh? What do you take me for? I'm Wendy Bladewyn!"
Her confidence was absolute.
Truth be told, I had no idea how strong someone with aura actually was. I didn't know how impressive a magic swordsman was, either. Aura, circles... all of it was completely foreign to me. Which only made me more curious.
Just how strong is this kid, anyway?
I glanced at her face in the rearview mirror. Wind whipping through her hair as she watched the scenery race past, Wendy looked every bit the adorable little beauty. Imagining that same girl tearing through a pack of bandits simply did not compute.
"Faster! Faster!"
"Aagh! Hey! Stop shaking me! We're gonna crash!"
Just look at her—clinging to my shoulder, standing up in a speeding vehicle, rocking the whole cabin. Completely unhinged.
"Huh?"
Screeeeeech—!!
I slammed on the brakes. The sensation was bizarre, like kicking at empty air. Even though it was a kind of magic, I could practically see the mana fuel vanish the instant I hit the emergency stop. What kind of abysmal fuel economy was this?
Clop. Clop.
A procession of carriages drawn by horses had blocked the road ahead. Both sides froze, eyeing each other in mutual surprise.
"What the...?"
"Judging by their appearance, they're not locals... from the southern continent, maybe?"
Aunt was right; their clothing was unusual. The riders had long cloths wrapped around their faces, and their clothes were practical, close-fitting, without a single scrap of ornamentation.
"They look like merchants from the Stens Coalition."
"Huh? They came all the way here from there? That's insane."
Wendy's eyes sparkled with interest.
"Merchants?"
Mine did too. Merchants meant they might be carrying things you simply couldn't get around here.
"Heh heh... I'll go talk to them."
"Why do you keep laughing like that? You sound like a pervert uncle!"
Last time it was "pervert brother." Now she'd promoted me all the way to uncle. Come on—I was still a fresh-faced twenty-year-old!
"We are people of the Pacific Merchant Guild. Who are you?"
A man from the rear stepped forward and raised his voice. Merchants deserved basic courtesy. I opened the door and stepped down.
Clunk!
The door shut with a metallic clang—and on the other side they drew their swords.
Shing! Shing! Shing!
What? Why the sudden hostility?
"Th-the Pacific Guild has connections with the major trading houses, and we have strong mercenaries here as well..."
The man who had been so calm a moment ago had gone deathly pale. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and he was suddenly stammering.
You're the ones holding the swords...
Was the Black Terrahole that terrifying? Even so, this level of fear seemed excessive.
Hmm?
I noticed their eyes kept flicking past me and then snapping back. Wondering if they'd seen a ghost, I turned around.
At some point Wendy had climbed onto the rear seat. She sat perched on the backrest, glaring at them. Behind her, nine shards of blue ice drifted in the air.
"Have you lost your minds? You dare draw steel on my pervert uncle?"
It's "brother," not "uncle." And why does she keep calling me a pervert? People are going to start believing it.
"Wendy. Calm down. They haven't done anything yet."
"They still could."
"Well, that's true, but..."
"N-no! Absolutely not! We have no intention of harming anyone! Truly!"
The one who looked like their leader immediately dropped his forehead to the dirt.
"What are you doing?! Put those swords away this instant and apologize!!"
The mercenaries who had been standing awkwardly in front sheathed their blades and bowed their heads.
"You've apologized, so for the crime of pointing blades at us, I'll just take one arm ea—"
"W-what are you saying, Wendy?!"
That cute face delivered the bloodiest threats without so much as a blink. Her everyday behavior was already eccentric, but this was something else entirely. It drove home again just how different this world was from the one I used to know.
"Please stand up. We have no intention of harming any of you, either."
The man glanced at Wendy, then slammed his head back into the ground.
"I'm so sorry!"
"Oh, for— Wendy!"
"Tch, fine. You're no fun. I wanted to play a little longer."
What? The whole arm-cutting thing was a joke? This little... I'd tensed up for nothing.
"I'm Robon Bladewyn, third son of the Bladewyn family. Behind me is my aunt, Sophia Bladewyn, and my little sister, Wendy Bladewyn."
"Ah, members of the Bladewyn house!"
He rose with a sigh of pure relief.
"I am Hector, vice-leader of the Pacific Merchant Guild. It is an honor to meet such distinguished persons."
"You know of us?"
"Of course. How could I not know the dean of Vulkan and the Ice Nine Swords?"
"Ice... Nine Swords?"
"Yes. Anyone who has seen her nine blades freezes solid, they say—hence Ice Nine Swords."
"Pfft!"
I couldn't help laughing. The meaning was terrifying, but the name was somehow ridiculous.
"Who are you calling Ice Nine Swords?!"
Wendy shouted in outrage.
"At least call it Nine Ice Swords!"
"I-I didn't invent the name..."
"Whoever started calling me Ice Nine Swords better hope I never find them...!"
I had to work hard to calm Hector down as Wendy's killing intent made him flinch all over again.
"So, what brings you all the way out here?"
"Well..."
Their story turned out to be fairly tragic. Every merchant they used to deal with in the port cities had suddenly cut ties at once, and after getting stabbed in the back by a rival guild, they had come searching for new trading partners—all the way here. Just how desperate for business did you have to be to travel this far?
"Crossing the Valces Mountain Range to reach this place couldn't have been easy. You did well to make it."
Aunt had grown interested enough to join the conversation.
"We suffered a little, haha."
"A little" was an understatement. Looking closer, their carriages were battered in more places than not, and the guild members and mercenaries with them looked ready to collapse the moment they sat down.
The Valces Mountain Range was called the natural fortress that encircled the Mardin Principality. It had protected the nation from northern magical beasts for generations. There was a road connecting to the south, but it was barely maintained and plagued by frequent monster attacks. Travelers entering the principality from outside were rare. The route itself was so treacherous that anyone hauling carriages without thorough preparation often lost their entire cargo along the way.
"Since fate has brought us together like this, would you care to examine our wares?"
"Talk to him, not me. I have nothing to do with Bladewyn anymore."
Aunt drew a clean line. Hector looked at me, his face full of calculation.
"If it's because of the rumors, you don't need to worry."
He seemed unable to bring it up first, so I beat him to it.
"N-nonsense! I have never once thought of Young Master Robon as a good-for-nothing!"
So the rumors had reached even him. Amazing how gossip travels. Even the worthless rumor that the third son of some isolated country's noble house was a wastrel had made it this far.
"I simply take a special interest in the eastern continent. Most others wouldn't know. Haha."
Small mercies.
"But what is this thing?"
"It's called a Black Terrahole—a magitech vehicle built by Vulkan."
Hector's eyes lit up.
"May I try riding it? How many of these are there?"
"Three. And no, you may not ride it."
"A shame."
He smacked his lips and looked away, apparently abandoning any thoughts of commercializing it after a brief mental calculation.
"I'll take a look."
"Yes. This way."
Following Hector's lead, I carefully examined the goods loaded in the carriages. Aunt browsed alongside me out of curiosity, but nothing seemed to catch her fancy; she only clicked her tongue. I was glad for the chance to see this world's products as well, yet nothing particularly appealed to me either.
Except for one thing.
"I obtained this in Carian. Heh heh. Look at that glittering gold color! Have you ever seen a gold nugget this large?"
It was a yellowish ore, about the size of a fist.
"This is gold?"
"To be precise, it's a little different from gold. No one has figured out what this ore actually is yet. The slaves in Carian call it 'fool's gold' because it's so hard to tell apart from the real thing."
Listening to Hector's explanation, I froze for a second. Something flashed through my mind.
Holy shit... it's here?
I had been wondering where I might find some of this. I never expected to stumble across it like this. My lips kept twitching upward. Suppressing the smile made the muscles in my face spasm.
"Haha. Fool's gold, huh... Interesting. How much of it do you have?"
I asked as casually as I could manage. Seeing genuine interest from me for the first time, Hector's voice grew a touch more animated.
"It's rather heavy, so not a great deal."
From what I could see, there was about a sackful of fist-sized chunks. More than I'd expected. Pyrite was dense; its weight-to-size ratio ran high.
"I'll take all of it."
In an instant, Hector's eyes changed.
"Do you have a price in mind?"
The gaze of a predator that had just spotted prey. Now that the real game was starting, he was showing his true colors. A merchant was a merchant, after all.
"You first."
"Come now. How could I presume to name a price to a young master of Bladewyn?"
"Hah. I'm just a good-for-nothing wastrel."
"Hahaha! Impossible. To me, you are a most valued customer."
"Hahaha."
"Hahaha."
We traded awkward laughter several more times. Damn merchants and their rule about never making the first offer. Fine, then.
"Everything you have here."
This was where my wastrel reputation came in handy—the image of a spoiled young master spending money on a whim.
I spread all ten fingers. Hector's eyes went wide as he repeated the number.
"Ten... gold, you mean?"
"Yes."
"Ah..."
He dragged the syllable out as long as possible, buying time. I could practically hear the little gears turning in his head.
"At ten gold, we would actually be taking a loss. Labor costs, transport fees, mercenary wages, and so on. Not to mention the hardships we endured just to reach this distant Mardin Principality..."
As he recounted their grueling journey, his eyes grew red and watery.
Oh? Playing the sympathy card now? This guy was no ordinary opponent.
"You've had it rough. All right—special price. Thirty gold."
"R-really?"
Hector's eyes flew open. Was this the same man who'd been sniffling a second ago?
"On the condition that you deliver it to our territory, and afterward you regularly transport this ore from Carian—wherever that is—exclusively to our lands. How about it?"
"Excuse me? Why would you go that far...?"
Hector eyed me with open suspicion.
Crap. Had I overplayed my hand?
"Heh heh. Wouldn't it be cool if I made a statue of myself out of this stuff? I'd need a lot of it for that, right? And I can't exactly go fetch it myself."
"...Ah."
The suspicion vanished. Phew.
"Thirty gold isn't bad. If we can maintain that price under the transport conditions, I think we can make it work. Haha."
Liar. Wipe the drool off your face before you talk. "Make it work"? Your mouth is practically twitching.
"Call!"
"Call? What does that mean?"
"It means I accept. Perfect! That's how it's done."
"Oh! Is this an eastern expression? Excellent. Call!"
"Then shall we draft the contract first?"
I quickly pulled out some paper and handed him a pen. Hector scrawled the terms in a hurry and signed.
"Finished? Let's go already."
Aunt prodded me from the side.
"I'm counting on you, Hector."
"Yes, yes! Don't worry, cus—customer!"
"Hm?"
"Pardon? Is something wrong?"
"Sounded like you said 'mark' for a second there."
"Customer, of course! Haha! What would 'mark' even mean?"
"Nothing. See you later."
"Yes!"
The Pacific Merchant Guild headed in the opposite direction from us. Watching them shrink in the rearview mirror, I let a smile spread across my face.
"Heh heh heh."
"What's with this pervert brother again?"
"Heh heh heh heh heh..."
"Gross...!"
I ignored whatever she was saying behind me.
Pyrite... I had been struggling with the durability of the Black Terrahole's tires, and now I had a solution.
Thirty gold? Honestly, three hundred wouldn't have been too much.
He's probably congratulating himself right now for fleecing a sucker. Too bad for him. Once he learns what this ore really is, he'll be beating the ground in regret.
"Hmm hmm hmm~"
A little tune kept slipping out. The journey back to the principality had just become a great deal more enjoyable.