Chapter 64
Chapter 64
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: The Fifth Waterwheel
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This gathering in the Autocity's banquet hall had been formed a few months prior.
The origin of the first meeting was simple.
It began when Hwikyung invited the merchants who had helped gather resources and artisans from across the continent to build the four waterwheels, hosting them in the banquet hall.
With a view overlooking the completed four waterwheels, it was undoubtedly the best venue in Autocity to celebrate their completion.
During the meal, someone brought up the topic.
"Now that our merchants have pooled our strength to accomplish such a feat, we could surely undertake even greater endeavors."
It was just idle chatter, but the words lingered long in Hwikyung's mind.
That very evening, Hwikyung summoned them again.
They were major players from various regions across the continent, each doing well in their own right, and Hwikyung didn't want to miss the opportunity.
One of the merchants, summoned without explanation, asked Hwikyung,
"Lord of Autocity, why have you called us together again?"
Hwikyung shared his vision.
"Let's form a group."
"Us? Some of us lead trading companies, but many are rooted in our regions. Fostering camaraderie is fine, but we won't meet that often afterward..."
"It's not about fostering camaraderie. So there's no need to meet frequently."
"Then what?"
Hwikyung replied,
"Through those waterwheels you see there, we've reaped great profits. Wouldn't it be a shame to end it here?"
What Hwikyung proposed was straightforward.
Money makes money.
Those who already possess great wealth can amass even greater fortunes, and when such people unite, the gains multiply.
"We don't need massive projects like this. Just sharing rumors faster and more accurately than others can yield profits. For instance, if we know timber from the northern coast is hard to harvest due to blight, prices for trees in the northern Great Forest will skyrocket. We could stock up beforehand."
It wasn't a bad idea, so the merchants pondered it with thoughtful expressions.
At the very least, it didn't seem like Hwikyung was scheming for personal gain alone.
"There are other ways to profit. For example, no taxes on trades among ourselves."
"But taxes go to the state..."
"There are plenty of ways to dodge them. If we want mutual gains, we must shoulder that risk."
Basic ledgers were only just beginning to be kept.
Merchants' loyalty lay not with nations, but with profit.
They calculated in their heads how much they could gain from tax-free trades on their local goods.
The merchants began tossing out ideas.
"We could trade banned items too."
"Exactly."
Black market deals.
"Or hoard rare goods to drive up prices before selling."
"Right."
Monopolies.
"Why not all buy up a specific commodity and set the price ourselves?"
"With our pooled funds, it's possible."
Collusion.
"What do you think? Sounds good, right?"
Even the initially skeptical merchants started warming to Hwikyung's pitch.
Proper laws and business ethics hadn't yet taken root.
Quicker nations might ban such practices legally, but aside from Heukrin, few had solid statutes, and even Heukrin's trade laws were arbitrarily set by Rakrak and the warrior captain.
Hwikyung, standing by the window, thought to himself,
'If it's truly evil, the god would strike me with lightning.'
Hwikyung glanced uneasily at the sky.
It was clear, with no lightning in sight.
One merchant spoke up.
"Very well, Hwikyung. Seeing everyone murmuring and exchanging glances, it seems they've all been swayed by your words."
"So you're all in favor?"
"But there's a problem."
"What is it?"
The merchant was a troll.
From the massive troll tribe once called the Stone Mask Tribe, his nation was now known as the Stone Face Kingdom.
"What if one of us betrays the group?"
"Hmm..."
Hwikyung understood the troll's concern.
They were merchants from diverse backgrounds, united only for this purpose.
If someone fed false info for a big score, it wouldn't just cause losses—it would shatter trust in the group itself.
But Hwikyung already had an answer.
"A valid worry. Our races differ, our gods differ. Distrust is natural."
The merchants nodded.
Hwikyung continued,
"But while we can't change our races, we can change our faith."
The merchants buzzed.
"Let's pick one god among those we worship. Abandon our old faiths and pledge to this new one. Then, offer a portion of our profits to that god and its supporting king."
This would grant protection from the god's nation and draw the deity's attention. Fear of divine wrath would deter betrayal.
'Abandon faith once, then be forsaken by a god again...'
People of this era knew well how the 'forsaken by gods' lived.
To players, they were mere NPCs, but without divine protection or notice, they formed the lowest rung on the third continent.
Hwikyung asked,
"What do you think?"
The merchants seemed largely agreeable.
Abandoning faith was terrifying, but uniting under one god had its merits.
It felt like a gamble worth taking.
Another merchant said,
"But how do we decide which god?"
"We'll have to discuss it."
Hwikyung let them talk.
They boasted about their gods endlessly, reaching no consensus.
When Hwikyung judged them weary and judgment clouded, he spoke.
"I know all your gods are magnificent. In other words, it doesn't matter whose god we choose, right? Why not roll dice?"
Some grumbled but were persuaded.
Thanks to merchants who enjoyed dice games as a hobby, three six-sided dice were placed on the table.
"Highest roll wins. Who goes first?"
Three d6s: lowest 3, highest 18, but typically 8-13.
Among fifteen merchants, Nix the merchant's 16 was highest.
Hwikyung's turn came last.
As he picked up the dice, he addressed his inner self.
'Horn.'
-You called?
'Yes.'
-Finally, time to work.
'Please.'
Hwikyung rolled.
The spirit dwelling in his horn, manipulator of probability, nudged the tumbling dice.
They rolled and stopped: 6... 6.
And 6.
Total 18—a 0.46% chance.
Rumors swirled of the Autocity Lord's mystical powers, but no one knew specifics.
No one in the banquet hall noticed the tampering.
They accepted Hwikyung's victory.
"Lucky roll."
Hwikyung said calmly.
"Seems like the Blue Insect God's will. ...Shall we begin by burning our old tokens in prayer?"
The merchants hesitated but, eyeing future profits, produced symbols of their gods.
Next step was simple.
Toss them into the bonfire in the corner of the banquet hall.
Watching from outside Autocity's window, Seong-un thought,
'Shameless.'
It didn't bother him.
Quite the sound judgment, actually.
Seong-un had observed since Hwikyung reconvened the merchants. He could've flooded the hall with bugs if needed, but reading Hwikyung's intent, he nodded.
'Merchant guilds are a natural progression.'
From medieval village guilds to Hanseatic Leagues, even before full capitalism, capital sought to expand itself.
If players led such groups, it was worth celebrating.
'Just a bit early... and secretive. Odd.'
Above all, making them abandon their religions seemed Hwikyung's intent from the start.
With rigged dice ensuring victory, no worries there.
'Spreading faith is profit too, I suppose.'
Not wrong.
In Lost World, belonging hinged not on race or nation, but shared faith.
Ultimately, assault central continent players, but managing that vast land immediately was tough.
Seong-un figured this border would stagnate early-game.
'The so-called lull period.'
Players built kingdoms in name only: scant population, poor governance, absorbing unruly NPCs, surviving random disasters.
'Wars will complicate.'
War wasn't just swords.
Like sending priests covertly to proselytize.
Even without this guild, Seong-un would've acted, but Hwikyung handed him a shortcut.
'With bait laid, easier.'
Seong-un pondered attacks on others and countermeasures.
In his tent, Rakrak held a white, gauzy material up to the sun.
This broad, fragile sheet was thin enough to let light pass through.
Rakrak asked Jaol,
"What did you call this?"
"'Paper'."
"Paper."
Jaol explained.
"Recently, some Lernar stragglers got lost and were captured. One was a papermaker. Thanks to him, we learned how to make it."
"Why not use silk?"
"Silk's expensive and heavy."
"Paper? Seems light enough. But costly?"
"To make paper, pulverize wood, soak, shred into pulp."
Rakrak imagined the process.
"Sounds tough."
"Yes. Normally time-consuming, but..."
Jaol flicked her tail tip happily—like humming lightly.
"We have waterwheels."
Heukrin's capital Orazn had a great river, narrowing but deepening upstream with ample flow.
Lizardmen built more waterwheels using Autocity methods.
Waterwheels replaced human labor, so for papermaking too.
The Lernar papermaker said Lernar lacked waterwheels, making paper pricey despite know-how.
"Rest is simple: strain through fine mesh, dry thoroughly. The Lernar taught quicker, tougher methods, but that's the gist."
Rakrak nodded.
Waterwheel-powered, wood-based—cheaper than silk inevitably.
Widespread paper would boost writing, records.
Rakrak lived in recorded history.
'Nothing forgotten.'
But not perfect.
Paper could be transcribed if decayed, but sabotage was irreversible.
Prioritize defenses against invaders.
"Jaol, I have something to show you too."
"What?"
Rakrak took paper into the tent, Jaol following.
"...I thought I had no worries. With a wise companion like you, my warriors, and our god watching... I believed we could face any foe."
"Not wrong."
Rakrak nodded in agreement.
"But... neither you, nor I, nor my warriors, nor even the god... can be everywhere at once."
"Also not wrong."
"Like this war, foes in two directions? I run faster. But three, four? Jaol, what then?"
"...Hmm."
"I'll do this."
Rakrak sketched with charcoal on paper.
Jaol recognized quickly.
"A map."
Rakrak nodded.
He drew thick lines at border-like spots.
Cutting plains, mountains, rivers unabated.
Confidence nothing could bar Heukrin's king.
Jaol looked up.
"What is this?"
Rakrak answered.
"The barrier I'll build."