Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: The Astacidian Trade
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The young warrior could hardly believe his ears at Tatar's continued words.
"...Help them build temporary shelters to live in. And we'll need to bring the remaining food from the village."
The warrior captain's authority came directly from King Rakrak.
The warriors followed Tatar's orders without a murmur.
Chief Astacidian expressed his thanks to Tatar.
Once the Lizardman warriors pitched in, the Astacidian shelters went up in no time.
They even shared food with them, and the Astacidian relaxed, showing goodwill toward the Lizardmen in return.
One Astacidian who introduced himself as Rubo spoke to Tatar.
"Tatar, was it? We truly appreciate this."
"It's only natural."
"Natural? That's not how things work in our archipelago. When shipwreck survivors are found, they're stripped of everything and cast out. Many don't survive."
"Not in our lands."
"Oh..."
Rubo seemed deeply moved.
He peppered Tatar with questions, and Tatar answered everything that wasn't too sensitive.
"How big is this island?"
"This isn't an island. Head north, and it'll take over a hundred days to reach the end of the land. From there, go west, and after another hundred days, you still won't see the end."
"Ooh."
Rubo lightly touched Tatar's sleeve with his small claw.
"The cloth you're wearing is so smooth. I've never seen anything like it. What is it made of?"
"They call it silk."
"Silk?"
"Silkworms spin cocoons before turning into moths. We unravel the thread from those cocoons to make it. We raise silkworms here. Head north, and you'll find villages that breed them and spin the silk. They sell it for money or goods."
"Ooh."
Rubo also asked about money, writing, kings, and how many other races lived in the Lizardman lands. Tatar answered as best he could.
A few days later, when Rubo and his group prepared to leave, they received plenty of help from Tatar.
"Just look to the sky when you're lost?"
"That's right."
Tatar had diligently learned stargazing from the Star Reader, so he was well-equipped to teach others.
Rubo quickly realized that with stargazing and his own wind-reading skills, he could find his way home.
On the day of departure, Rubo said,
"Thank you, Lord Tatar. We will never forget this kindness."
But Tatar, the other warriors, and the village Lizardmen who had helped the Astacidian paid little heed to the gratitude. Everyone knew kindness didn't always come back around.
That's why the young warrior who had been at Tatar's side on the day the Astacidian first landed now asked him,
"Why did you help them?"
"Hm."
"I would have driven them off and reported to Lord Rakrak that we'd repelled invaders on the coast."
"Mm."
"But you didn't chase them away. Instead, you helped them, and now the village's resources are diminished. Won't the king be angry when he hears?"
"...Hmm."
Tatar scratched his chin as he listened.
"So you're dissatisfied?"
"...No. Just curious."
"About what?"
"I always saw you as a great warrior, Lord Captain—one who knows when to spill blood. But this time, it seemed like you feared fighting. Were you worried about us all because of your position?"
Tatar shook his head.
"You're misunderstanding me. Let me tell you a story."
Tatar slowly recalled an old conversation with Rakrak.
While crossing the wasteland on Rakrak's orders, Tatar encountered a band of wanderers.
Those unfamiliar with Tatar's tale might assume they were Lizardmen, but they weren't.
They were Halfkin, fleeing the territory of the black-scaled Lizardmen.
Troll bandits were pursuing the Halfkin group, and Tatar happened upon them.
He couldn't avoid the fight.
Tatar slew all ten troll bandits but lost his left eye in the process.
Afterward, he returned to Rakrak.
Entering Rakrak's tent, Tatar said,
"I'm sorry, Rakrak."
"What for?"
"Out of my own greed, I damaged this body that should be cherished as the god's warrior and your tribesman."
For a warrior—especially a Lizardman—losing an eye was catastrophic.
Unlike flat-faced blunt-heads, long-muzzled Lizardmen had eyes on the sides of their skulls, offering wide fields of view but poor depth perception. Losing one eye erased that advantage.
Rakrak shook his head.
"No, Tatar. You're still an excellent warrior. I heard you lost the eye in battle. Few among us could confidently take on ten trolls after losing an eye."
"But I lost one eye..."
"Don't I and the other warriors exist? We'll all be your left eye. What is there to fear?"
Tatar nodded silently at the call to trust others.
"Tatar, don't you regret it?"
"Regret what?"
"You lost your eye protecting people who aren't even from our tribe, let alone Lizardmen. It'll make your life harder. You lost what you should have kept and gained nothing."
Tatar gazed into the blazing campfire.
"I've heard the tale of when you first discovered the miracle, Rakrak. Your band was wandering the wasteland, starving, and you were wounded. The Blue Insect God led you as a beetle, and according to the story, asked for nothing in return."
Rakrak raised his voice.
"Are you daring to act like a god?"
"Yes."
Rakrak fell silent, then said,
"You're right."
He tossed a piece of wood into the fire to stoke the tent.
"Keep acting as you did. If anyone calls you wrong, remind them of this conversation. Tell them Rakrak agrees with your thinking."
The steadfast warrior Tatar followed Rakrak's words to the letter, never bending his resolve.
When Tatar finished his story, the young warrior bowed his head in shame.
"I failed to see that you were acting in line with the god's will..."
"No."
Tatar patted the young warrior's shoulder as he passed.
"Your thinking might be right. It's just that this time, the authority and responsibility to decide fell to me. Don't worry—I wasn't afraid of fighting, as you thought."
He said that, but Tatar wasn't entirely without concerns this time.
The Lizardmen had never met the Astacidian before. In the worst case, they could be born liars. Everything might be a ploy for an attack.
For that reason, Tatar assigned village folk to watch the coast daily, checking for approaching ships.
It wasn't long before more Astacidian appeared.
The one Tatar met on the beach was Rubo from the previous shipwreck.
"Shipwrecked again?"
"As if!"
"Then?"
"This time, we've come to buy that silk and iron you mentioned."
Tatar breathed a sigh of relief.
But some parts didn't make sense.
"Silk and iron are valuable even to us. Do you really need them? Besides, you can go underwater. Silk would get wet, and iron rusts quickly."
Rubo waggled his antennae.
It was like a nod from a necked race.
"We can change our lifestyle to avoid wetting and rusting. Dry it and oil it, right? Silk is beautiful, and clothes made from it would make us stand out among other Astacidian. Weapons of hard iron would let us defeat enemies more easily."
"Enemies?"
"Yes. We're at war."
Rubo opened and closed his large claw.
Tatar sold the village's spare silk.
In exchange, he mostly received seaweed and shellfish for food, bones from exotic sea creatures, and pearls.
Tatar didn't know pearl values, so he priced them low. Rubo did the same, since they were common in his archipelago.
Tatar figured it might be a disappointing trade but had no choice. He wasn't a merchant.
As Tatar handed over the silk and eyed the goods with mild disappointment, Rubo grew anxious.
After some thought, Tatar said,
"You know, it occurs to me—we could use boats like yours."
"Hm... Boats are hard to build, take a long time, and the craft is a guild secret."
"I'm no merchant; I wouldn't know. Let's just end this trade, then..."
"Er... No. We don't have time to build one before the next trade, but we could steal one from the enemy. If we promise to bring one empty next time, will you give us silk and iron?"
"Deal."
Several such trades followed.
Rakrak was gradually growing accustomed to life in Oranzen.
But indoor living still felt cramped and confining.
The castle, large enough to satisfy him, was still under construction, so Rakrak spent more time on the hill overlooking Oranzen than in the castle or his home.
His old nomadic tent from the wandering days remained pitched on the hill, serving as his de facto office.
Rakrak spent much of his time personally hearing reports from messengers from across the kingdom or reading messages written in charcoal on silk, then dictating replies.
Even so, since he enjoyed stories, it wasn't all tedium.
Lately, some tales had been particularly entertaining.
"So now you have how many ships?"
"Four."
The messenger before Rakrak hailed from distant Maganen.
Maganen kept seeing these odd Astacidian folk, and Warrior Captain Tatar had been trading with them steadily.
Rakrak hadn't expected much at first when he heard Tatar was getting miscellaneous goods, pearls, and boats.
The pearls the messenger brought seemed useless to Rakrak.
And the boats Rakrak knew were just rafts—hastily woven from wood. He couldn't fathom why Tatar wanted them.
But their value differed from Rakrak's assumptions.
Hwikyung, visiting Automatburg for a council meeting, had marveled at the pearls.
"Those things have value?"
"Of course! Round ones with such luster are rare. Central continent folk love decorations; these fetch high prices. How many do you have?"
"About three pouches full."
"...What?"
At Hwikyung's price estimate, Rakrak realized Tatar had made ten to twenty times profit per trade.
The boats were nothing like Rakrak imagined, either.
Eager to see one himself, Rakrak ordered it brought to Oranzen. Tatar loaded it with Astacidian crew and warriors trained in seamanship, then sailed along the coast.
Despite the risks of a first voyage—reefs and all—the boat arrived safely.
Seeing it, Rakrak revised his estimate of Tatar's profits.
'Over a hundredfold gain.'
Rakrak had always lived on land, but since learning of the sea, he'd harbored a longing for it.
The land ended at the sea, so all land bordered it.
'And this boat looks easy to pole upriver.'
Boats were faster than walking and carried more cargo than cockatoos or horses.
Rakrak deemed them invaluable and immediately ordered replicas built on Oranzen's coast.
Now another messenger from Maganen had arrived.
Rakrak wondered what deal Tatar had struck this time, but it wasn't a trade.
It was a strange request.
"Those crayfish wanted a stamp on the silk?"