Less than an hour after sending someone, the merchant arrived.
"Would you like another cup of tea?"
"I'm fine. I didn't expect you to summon me like this, Young Master."
"You didn't take long to get here."
The merchant's eyelids twitched. His hand holding the teacup paused awkwardly before moving again.
At this point in time, there was a shortage of the irreplaceable aphrodisiac and fertility enhancer.
The original supplier had burned to the ground, and I was the only immediate alternative source.
"So, how much do you want to pay?"
"Before that, may I ask about the quantity? How much do you have..."
"The quantity is sufficient. Let's talk about the price first."
Silence.
The merchant's fingers tapped on the teacup handle a couple of times.
"15 gold per kilogram."
His voice was calm. His fingertips setting down the teacup were not.
"That's double the market price. I believe it's a price that shows sufficient sincerity."
Not bad. Under normal circumstances.
"I refuse."
"R-refuse?"
A tone he tried but failed to suppress.
"It's double the market price. I thought you would be satisfied with this, Young Master..."
"It's not enough."
"Not enough? Excuse me, but there's nowhere else in the Empire that would offer better terms than this..."
"There is. I'm already supplying directly to several noble families. Since the debutante. It's not only an essential item for the enjoyable pastimes of various ladies and gentlemen, but also necessary for easily producing heirs."
It was true.
After dancing with the Princess, doors opened. Duke families, Marquis families, Count families. Houses with prestigious names reached out first. Without middlemen. Direct transactions.
The merchant knows this too. That's why he rushed here within an hour.
"B-but supplying only to noble families won't be enough to move all your inventory."
"That's right."
I nodded.
"That's why I called you."
"But. At this price, I don't need to sell."
"Pardon?"
"It's difficult, but not impossible. It'll just take some time."
I stood up from my chair. Celine also straightened from the wall.
"Thank you for your time."
"W-wait a moment!"
The chair scraped the floor as it was pushed back.
"Please sit down, Young Master. I'll, I'll think about it more."
Slowly. Leisurely. I sat back down.
Celine also leaned back against the wall. She didn't change her expression at all.
Sweat beaded on the merchant's forehead.
It's true I'm in a hurry. The 6th Corps is coming. I need a route to convert goods into cash.
But I have no intention of taking a loss.
There are three other merchant guilds of similar scale to his. I practically monopolize Cheonghongcho.
Most importantly, only Celine and I know that I'm in a hurry, while information about his urgency has spread to the level of public knowledge.
"15%."
"Young Master, that's too..."
"20%. It goes up every time you hesitate."
The merchant's mouth opened halfway, then closed. It opened again.
"Th-that price would cut into our margin..."
"Your margin is your problem. I can just release it to the market. Since it's scarce, it'll sell itself."
"But without a distribution network..."
"I'm already doing well without the existing distribution network."
Silence descended.
The merchant's hand went to his pocket. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
"I'll accept up to 15%."
"I said 20%."
"Young Master!"
His voice rose. He immediately lowered his gaze.
"I apologize."
I didn't respond. Just looked at him.
The merchant's shoulders slumped.
"I, I understand your position, Young Master. Of course. But for us, 20% in cash is..."
His words trailed off.
"So it's possible with something other than cash?"
"That's what I wanted to say. How about goods?"
Finally.
My face didn't move. Not an eyebrow, not a corner of my mouth.
"Goods?"
"Yes. Instead of gold, we'll give you items. We'll handle transportation too."
"Hmm."
I fiddled with the teacup.
"What kind of items?"
"Things in our warehouse. Grain, textiles, iron..."
Iron.
I cheered inwardly.
The 6th Corps is coming. War supplies are needed. Among them, iron is key.
A word I never once mentioned. The merchant brought it up himself.
"Iron?"
Still an indifferent tone.
"Yes. Quality iron. Used for making weapons or farming tools... Besides that, we have wheat and barley for grain. Cotton and hemp for textiles. For iron..."
The merchant listed the warehouse inventory.
The calculation worked out.
"Let's go with iron."
"Pardon?"
"Iron. Let's exchange it for Cheonghongcho at market price."
The merchant's eyes widened.
"Are you... sure that's all right?"
"Mix in some military rations too. Wheat and salt."
"Understood!"
His response was quick. He jumped up from his chair and extended his hand.
I accepted the handshake. The merchant's palm was damp.
"You brought the contract, right?"
"Of course."
Parchment emerged from his bag. It unfolded quickly.
"Here's the quantity, and here's the items. 300 geun of iron, 50 sacks of wheat, 20 sacks of salt, and the amount of gold coins written here. Is that correct?"
"Yes."
A quill was handed over. The ink bottle cap opened.
Scratch scratch.
As soon as I finished signing, the merchant quickly snatched up the parchment.
"I'll send you a copy tomorrow."
"What about transporting the goods?"
"Within three days. No, I'll make sure they arrive within two days."
He stood up and bowed. Deeply. Close to 90 degrees.
"It was a good deal, Young Master. I look forward to working with you in the future."
The door closed.
Footsteps faded away. Quick steps. Almost running.
The sight of him fleeing was almost amusing.
Fool.
In a month, iron prices in the North will triple.
When our secret plundering becomes visible, demand for military supplies will explode.
And if they clash with the 6th Corps? Five times is possible.
The iron you gave me is worth six times the Cheonghongcho.
"Was iron the goal?"
Celine asked, straightening from the wall.
"Yeah."
"From the start?"
"Yeah."
"But you didn't say a word about it."
"Because if I want it, the price goes up."
I stepped into the corridor. Celine stood beside me.
"Con artist."
"Call me a negotiator."
Pfft. A laugh escaped.
**
A deal accomplished with lightning speed.
Not only did I obtain the necessary goods centered around iron, but I also received some in gold coins.
The reason for receiving some gold coins was to hire mercenaries with that money.
500 men. An elite cavalry unit. Or so they said...
Honestly, to be blunt, calling them elite was a bit of a stretch.
"Are they actually mounted on horses?"
Kuuluk asked, bringing his horse alongside.
The lead mercenary swayed on his horse. His hand gripping the reins was awkward. He couldn't even properly seat his rear in the saddle and bounced around.
"At least they're moving forward."
"Only forward. How could they possibly fight on horseback like that? I knew Southerners couldn't ride, but isn't this a bit much?"
"You can't compare them to you and your men."
"Well, that's true."
Kuuluk nodded.
He's a steppe nomad. People born on horseback who die on horseback.
A tribe that learns to ride before they learn to walk.
The comparison was wrong.
"But even accounting for that... they seem to ride worse than you, Young Master."
I agreed inwardly. Didn't say it though.
"Can we even use them like that?"
Celine asked.
"We need them for now."
The caravan of wagons headed north, raising dust.
Various supplies and 500 substandard mercenaries.
Pathetic military strength. But better than nothing.
War might start soon.
Someone might say:
No matter what, between corps within the same ducal family, with Father Duke's eyes wide open, does it even make sense to fight?
The problem was that it did make sense.
The great Walther Von Krstein Duke is not someone who would stop his children's fratricidal strife—he'd watch it while eating popcorn.
He'd even encourage it.
But.
We crossed the border. Nothing happened.
We passed the plains. No one was there.
We went through the forest path. No ambush.
The closer we got to the corps garrison, the higher the tension should normally be.
But it's too peaceful.
**
The garrison's main gate came into view.
The iron gate slowly opened. Creak. A familiar sound.
Soldiers stood in formation. Salutes went up.
But.
"The atmosphere is strange."
Celine spoke first.
"Yeah."
The soldiers' expressions weren't tense. There was laughter.
Their eyes sparkled. Their shoulders were excited.
It wasn't the atmosphere before war. It was like the day before a festival.
"You said they're in a tense situation with the 6th Corps."
"Yeah."
"Why are they all like that?"
"I don't know."
The carriage entered.
Murmurs spread among the soldiers.
"He's returned."
"They say he brought supplies too."
"As expected."
As expected?
What's "as expected"?
The letter Lise sent clearly said the 6th Corps was coming. The corps led by Ernst's maternal relatives. Passing through our garrison.
That's why I got iron. Secured military rations. Even brought mercenaries.
I came prepared for war.
But what is this atmosphere?
Something's wrong.
No. Is it wrong?
Or is it actually right?
The carriage stopped. In front of the main building.
Click. Click. Click.
A figure descended the main building stairs.
Silver hair. Small frame. Black hat.
And.
My face.
It was Lise. Wearing a disguise hat.
It was like looking in a mirror. Same silver hair. Same features. Same build.
But the atmosphere was different. Somehow stiff.
"Young Master, you're late."
Lise opened her mouth.
"What's with that way of talking?"
"I'm acting in your place. I have to talk like you."
Lise removed her hat.
She returned to her original face. Silver hair remained. Red eye with an eyepatch.
"What about the 6th Corps?"
"Bring him forth!"
"What?"
Lise stepped aside.
Footsteps came from behind the main building. Multiple people. The sound of dragging something.
Two knights appeared. Between them, a man.
His armor had been stripped. His face was covered in dirt.
He was being dragged on his knees while bound.
"Who's that?"
Celine asked.
Lise answered.
"That's the 6th Corps Commander."