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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Chaos
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From the moment I learned about the family and was told by the Lord to observe and learn the family business, I hadn’t expected this to be a legitimate trading venture.
However,
“Lord Sardan, even if you are the lord, this is unacceptable.”
“…Acting Trade Representative Dorf, I implore you, please help me just one more time.”
“…Good heavens.”
I didn’t know what to make of this spectacle: a dignified-looking lord with flecks of gray in his hair bowing repeatedly while a mere merchant acted all high and mighty.
Behind Dorf, who dramatically stroked his chin in feigned contemplation, stood not only the members of the Brown Wolf Mercenary Company who had escorted us, but also some burly men who appeared to be Dorf’s direct subordinates, with their shoulders puffed out.
Facing them were the lord’s knights, their eyes gleaming with barely suppressed fury.
Even I, nominally on the same side, was thinking, ‘That guy is infuriating,’ so I could only imagine how these knights, whose lord was being humiliated, must have felt.
Lord Sardan Baldwin, having received the goods from Dorf, had asked if he could postpone payment, and Dorf, as if expecting this, began to put on airs.
This clearly wasn’t the first time this had happened.
“Please raise your head, Lord. It puts me, a mere commoner, in a very difficult position to be treated this way.”
Despite his words, his smug satisfaction was evident.
As I had noticed with the mercenaries, this man thoroughly enjoyed wielding power over others.
“Nonsense, what’s a little courtesy to someone who has come to aid our territory?”
In that respect, Lord Baldwin was certainly a formidable figure.
Despite the humiliating situation, he showed no sign of displeasure.
Dorf looked slightly disappointed, but judging that he couldn’t push any further, he finally got down to business.
“Hmm, while I admire your noble intentions to care for the residents of your territory, the fact that you deferred payment in our previous transaction has placed a considerable burden on me.”
“I know, I’m well aware that I’m asking too much.”
“If I were to handle things so arbitrarily again, the Trade Representative might hold me responsible. However, if there were some collateral, it would be a different story.”
“…Do you have something in mind?”
At Lord Baldwin’s question, Dorf dropped his superficial smile and replied.
“The mining rights to the mine located in the Baldwin territory. Or the secret art passed down through the Baldwin family. If you provide either one, I’ll guarantee five years of support. If you provide both, I’ll guarantee the same level of support as today for the next fifteen years.”
“You insolent wretch!!!”
The explosive roar came not from the lord, but from one of the knights standing behind him.
“You have no shame! Demanding such things in exchange for mere food supplies?!”
A young man with dark blue hair glared at Dorf, with his face flushed red.
At his posture, as if he were about to draw his sword, Dorf quickly stepped back.
His burly men blocked the young man’s path, and the other knights around him placed their hands on the hilts of their swords.
Hmm, I was told to observe, so I was observing, but this seemed to be heading south…
“What do you think you’re doing to our guests!!”
It was Lord Baldwin who intervened in this volatile situation.
“Not only do you interrupt an important conversation with your shouting, but you dare to draw your weapon? Have you lost your mind?!”
“But Father!! This is going too far!!”
“Silence! Ah, this kid!! What are you waiting for? Take this fool away!”
“Father! Don’t be deceived, Father!! Father!!!!”
The young man, dragged away by the knights, continued to cry out, his voice echoing for some time.
Lord Baldwin spoke with a somber expression.
“I apologize for my son’s rudeness.”
“Oh, um, no, it’s alright. It’s understandable, given his youthful ardor.”
Despite his attempt at magnanimity, the slight tremor in his voice betrayed his fear.
It was understandable, considering the young man had looked ready to kill.
An awkward silence hung in the air for a while before Lord Baldwin spoke.
“…I cannot hand over the mining rights. It’s not a matter of profit, but because the forest where the mine is located is closely tied to the livelihoods of the residents of my territory.”
Mining inevitably led to environmental pollution.
The land had to be excavated for efficient extraction and transportation, and the pollutants and wastewater generated during the sorting and refining processes had a significant negative impact on the surrounding environment.
This was why the lords of the Baldwin territory had refrained from exploiting the mine despite knowing of its existence.
Especially now, with the food situation in the territory already precarious, they couldn’t afford to damage the forest, which served as their primary food source.
It would be putting the cart before the horse to incur debt to feed the residents, only to have them starve to death as a result of the mine’s exploitation.
In the end, Dorf’s proposal was essentially a single-choice question.
“Ten years. If you extend the support period to ten years, I will give you our family’s secret art.”
“No, Lord…!”
“How can you!”
The knights around him groaned at Lord Baldwin’s words.
‘It’s understandable.’
Recalling my knowledge of “Planetarium,” I understood their reaction.
In this world, superhumans capable of using magic were extremely rare.
More accurately, while everyone was born with magic power, it was rare for individuals to possess both a significant amount of magic power to produce meaningful effects and the control necessary to wield it at will.
Moreover, possessing magic power didn’t necessarily make one strong.
Just because someone had a sword and the arm to swing it didn’t make them a master swordsman.
They might have an advantage over an unarmed opponent, but many destroyed themselves due to their inability to properly control their “sword” or in other words, their magic power.
Therefore, groups with a certain level of history and influence had continuously refined their methods of handling magic and developed powerful techniques, while simultaneously keeping them secret to prevent their spread.
These were known as “secret arts.”
In short, the Midas Trading Company was essentially holding the lives of the territory’s residents hostage, using food and medicine as leverage to extort the Baldwin family’s heirloom.
“Ten years, ten years… Very well.”
Dorf appeared to consider it for a moment before nodding.
Did he think this was within his authority to decide, or had he already discussed it with the Lord beforehand?
I didn’t know.
“How could I, a mere merchant, refuse such a request from someone like Lord Baldwin? Leave it to me.”
“…Thank you.”
The stark contrast in their expressions clearly conveyed their respective positions.
“So, it has come to this.”
The son of Sardan Baldwin, a promising young knight, gritted his teeth upon hearing the terms of the negotiation.
His chest burned with rage, and the urge to smash everything in sight surged through him.
Why should they endure such humiliation?
How had the proud Baldwin family fallen so low?
The answer was clear.
The Barhardt Empire.
The hateful enemy that had brutally murdered his great-grandfather and the heroes who fought alongside him, reducing their glorious kingdom to a mere shell of its former self.
And another: The Midas Family!
The descendants of a despicable man who had betrayed his nation for personal gain instead of uniting against the imperial invaders; shameless individuals who, instead of atoning for their sins, continued to commit atrocities.
Not only did they exploit the desperate territory by selling food and medicine at exorbitant prices, but the young man was certain they were also responsible for the sudden disappearance of other trading companies that had previously frequented the territory.
‘And now, they even dare to take our secret art…!’
The mere sight of a representative, let alone the Trade Representative, of the Midas Trading Company acting so arrogantly before the lord was a crime deserving of a hundred deaths, yet they were now trying to steal the family’s pride and treasure, their secret art.
He had endured it until now out of respect for his father’s concern for the residents, but he had reached his limit.
‘I will make them pay for their sins.’
Recalling the youngest son of the Midas family, who had observed the negotiations with an unreadable expression, the young man hardened his resolve.
The Midas family would pay for their accumulated misdeeds.
With blood, crimson blood.
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