novelno Chapter 529 - 528: Another Deal
Chapter 529 - 528: Another Deal
This is a huge expense.
But it is worth it.
Victoria carefully examined the single-handed sword in her hand—a gift from Gawain after the contract was formally signed. This sword was almost identical to every sword she had seen on a Cecil Warrior, except that the family emblem on the hilt had been replaced with the emblem of the Northern Wilder Clan.
It was finely made, with rigid lines and meticulous patterns. The surface showed almost no flaws. As a mass-produced weapon, it was even more exquisite than those held by the Order of Knights. And there were thousands of weapons exactly like it, without the slightest variation among them.
This uniform sense gave Victoria a feeling of "power."
This must not be Cecil’s best weapon, because no one would be foolish enough to exchange their reserved military equipment for money unless they had no other choice. However, it was at least better than the weapons currently in the hands of the Anzu Kingdom’s military, and that was enough.
As Gawain watched the Northern Duchess holding the single-handed sword in contemplation, memories from Gawain Cecil flashed in his mind. He thought of Snow Wielder, the first Duke of the North—a powerful Mage who once talked with Gawain Cecil all night during his final visit to the southern borders.
At that time, the four dukes system had already been established, and the Central Kingdom and the four great duchies were working together to build Anzu. Yet the Duke of the North asked a question that seemed strange then: What if one day the greatest threat to the kingdoms was not the chaotic wave from outside but the Guardian Dukes of the four territories themselves?
Snow Wielder was passionate about studying history, especially the aristocratic history of the Gondor Empire. Perhaps he perceived some latent danger in the four dukes system that was then deemed necessary. But unfortunately, Gawain Cecil could not provide him with any answer—three days later, Gawain Cecil died on the battlefield.
Gawain returned to his senses and, seemingly casually, asked Victoria a question: "Do you think Anzu’s crisis will end with the end of the civil war?"
"If we win, then it will," Victoria replied, lifting her head and stating as if it were a fact, "Wales Moen is the rightful heir to the royal family. As long as the Anzu Kingdom’s military can defeat the Eastern Territory Rebels, the Anzu Kingdom will inevitably reunite. Once the aristocratic classes unite again, Anzu will once more become a whole, and the crisis will naturally be resolved."
"...I understand," Gawain nodded. "Then let’s head back to the city."
Victoria blinked, her calm face hiding a hint of confusion. She sensed a trace of disappointment in Gawain’s subtle expression but quickly dismissed it as perhaps an illusion. Watching him stride away, she chose not to pursue it. Instead, she hurried over to the magic-guided vehicle and pointed at it, asking, "Duke Cecil, is this thing you call a magic-guided vehicle... also for sale?"
Gawain halted, casting a slightly surprised look at Victoria before smiling slightly: "It will be for sale eventually, but not now. We can’t produce enough yet; it’ll take at least six months. And if you want to buy a magic-guided vehicle, then you might want to start by repairing the King’s Road after you return."
Victoria bowed her head deeply: "I will. The road is the lifeblood of the kingdoms. My first task after the snow melts is to rebuild the King’s Road."
Upon returning to the feudal lord’s mansion, Victoria soon took her leave. She needed to return to the Autumn Palace to calculate precisely how much funding the Anzu Kingdom’s military could allocate to purchasing arms. Gawain also did not linger at the feudal lord’s mansion. He soon boarded the waiting magic-guided vehicle at the entrance, instructing the attendant to head to the merchants’ district.
The mechanical vibration transmitted from the car’s chassis as Gawain took a breath inside this slightly anachronistic vehicle. Suddenly, the adjacent seat was enveloped by a shadow, revealing Amber’s form coming forth from it.
"That duchess seemed quite pained," Amber blinked. Though it was unknown where she had observed from, she clearly lingered around Gawain this whole time. "She’s probably used her dowry money for this."
"Even if half of it can be offset with supplies, it’s a significant sum that’s beyond the capacity of the St. Soniel Treasury. Yet Victoria still chose to accept it. It seems she genuinely wants this civil war to end quickly and hopes the Anzu Kingdom’s military can achieve a decisive victory," Gawain replied.
"You sure didn’t flinch when it came to the money," Amber remarked. "It takes some guts, even more so considering she’s practically your junior, and a decent aristocrat at that. Yet you didn’t even offer a discount."
Gawain glanced at Amber and slowly said, "...The Anzu Kingdom’s military cannot save Anzu."
Those gold coins, were they to remain in the Anzu Kingdom’s military hands, would only slowly be consumed on the battlefield of the Plains of the Holy Spirits. Rather than let them be wasted, it’s wiser to transform them into gears and levers driving the magical industry.
Amber blinked, then touched her chin: "So what are you planning to do now?"
"I’m going to meet another group of people who can’t save Anzu either."
The magic-guided vehicle crossed through the administrative district of Cecil Castle, traveled along the ring road, and soon arrived at the merchants’ district on the city’s western side. It stopped in front of a tall, new building—
The Merchants Guildhall of Cecil, a place dedicated to receiving prominent merchants and aristocratic guests.
Behind one of the windows on the second floor, a young noble with short brown hair quietly observed the happenings on the street. After the magic-guided vehicle approached, he stepped away from the window.
There were several others in the room, all dressed in fine silk or velvet attire, adorned with brooches or carrying mechanical pocket watches. They seemed to be merchants from their attire, but their cautious and sharp eyes, as well as their commanding presence, suggested they were more than mere merchants.
One of them noticed the brown-haired young man leaving the window and stood up to inquire, "Young Master, is there a situation outside?"
"Don’t worry, it’s him," the brown-haired young man nodded and replied in a deep voice. "He only brought one attendant, so he should be up soon."
The people in the room relaxed slightly, then joined the young brown-haired noble near the door, quietly waiting.
Soon, footsteps approached...
In the Merchants Guildhall room, Gawain met those special guests.
In the past three days, he had arranged for Victoria and other royal capital visitors to tour the market, roam the city streets, and see all that had been planned for them, while he himself focused on meeting these special guests.
As the door closed behind him, Gawain looked at the brown-haired young man in front of him and gave a slight nod: "Marquis Belk, you seem to have heeded my advice and didn’t wander around needlessly."
The brown-haired young man—Belk Loren, the eldest son of the Duke of the East, Silas Loland—bowed to Gawain as would a younger generation to an elder. The others followed suit, and after the salutations, the young man, already a middle-ranked Transcendent in his twenties, couldn’t help but comment: "Staying in the room isn’t exactly pleasant."
"Leaving the room would cause more trouble," Gawain said as he sat down in the center sofa with Amber. Looking at Belk Loren, who had also taken a seat in front of him, Gawain continued, "The heir to the Duke of the East appearing in Cecil Castle is not a good sign, and I’m sure Victoria would gladly use this opportunity to make Silas Loland grieve the loss of his son—you wouldn’t stand a chance against her."
Belk shifted a bit uncomfortably. Although he wanted to control his expression, he clearly wasn’t as adept at it as Victoria: "You received emissaries from the royal capital at the feudal lord’s mansion, yet had us hide among merchants. Is this... an expression of your stance?"
Gawain couldn’t help but chuckle as he looked at the young man before him—Belk was a decent young man: polite, talented, smart, but evidently too rash and inexperienced. He hadn’t quite mastered the skills of negotiation yet, but given his age, comparing him to the Northern Duchess was unfair: "To be candid, the so-called Anzu Kingdom’s military and Eastern Territory Rebels are all the same to me. There’s no need to bring parents into a scuffle between youngsters. However, considering geography, the southern borders and the Plains of the Holy Spirits are more closely linked than with the East, and their visit this time was open to the public a while ago."
He paused for a moment before continuing: "As for you... my trust in you is limited, granted only for Anthony Loren’s sake."
"Pardon my forwardness, but soon enough you’ll see—it’s us who genuinely want to save this kingdom," Belk said earnestly. "The aristocrats of the Anzu Kingdom, indulged in the peace of the Plains of the Holy Spirits, can’t see the crisis. They don’t see the changes happening in Typhon, nor the world’s shifts. They only know revelry and extorting the last copper from the homes of the common folk, but we know—
"Typhon is reforming its land system, promoting education, developing technology, reorganizing the military, and expanding new territories. Their civilians can already eat meat once a week, while our people don’t even have enough black bread in winter. Even if Anzu tries to catch up now, it’s hard to surpass Typhon. Our only way out is to quickly concentrate Anzu’s power into the hands of a strong new King, intimidating Typhon. Even if it’s only for ten years, or even five years, we still have a chance..."
Gawain interrupted the earnest young man, "Is Edmund the ’strong new King’ you’re talking about?"
"Prince Edmund has foresight and charisma," Belk Loren said seriously, with a tone of admiration, "The farming and combat reward laws, road-building bills, commercial bills, and farm-clearing systems he implemented in the East have already shown effects. If the Plains of the Holy Spirits would send a not-blind aristocrat to take a look, they would also realize who is the qualified King - but they obviously don’t dare."
Apparently, this young Marquis does not yet know about Prince Edmund’s connections with the Oblivion Association, nor the truth about Francis II’s death - or perhaps he is exceptionally skilled at pretending not to?
Gawain didn’t care what Belk specifically knew or didn’t know. He patiently waited for the other to finish speaking, then nodded slightly, "I understand some things - precisely because I know these, I’m willing to try to trust you a little and allow the duchy’s merchants to establish trade routes in the East. You must know, I lay in the grave for seven hundred years, those I knew and trusted are mostly gone, and I must re-understand anyone and any force of this era - even the descendants of old friends."
Belk sat on the sofa, unconsciously rubbing his index finger’s knuckle, seemingly a subconscious action when organizing words, "Yes, my father and I understand this... Mr. Kode made a deep impression on us with the potions he brought, precisely what we urgently need. My father sent me here to discuss these matters with you..."
"We’ve been talking about this issue for the past two days," Gawain nodded, "I know your intentions, you have an exceptionally large potion gap, so not only do you want to order a large amount of alchemical potions, but you also want to buy a set of factory equipment and want the Cecil clan to train a group of machine operators for you... To be honest, your requests are indeed numerous."
"We have no choice." Belk Loren said.
The young Marquis knows that what he is asking for are sensitive "fundamental technologies," something Duke Cecil is hard-pressed to agree to, but before departing, Prince Edmund explained the necessity of all this - alchemical potions, which are vital to the military’s survival, cannot be perpetually dependent on others. Only by enabling the East to have production capability can they ensure they won’t fall into a passive situation one day if the Southern borders suddenly cut off potion supplies.
The negotiations two days ago were stuck on this matter, but today Duke Cecil came again, indicating that there might still be room for discussion.
Gawain quietly pondered - looking seemingly conflicted and hesitant, while Amber couldn’t help but speak out, "Our machines were researched at a great cost; they’re knowledge, not something money can buy..."
Gawain secretly gave Amber a thumbs-up, his face solemn, "But the East is, after all, still part of Anzu."
"But if we help them build the factory, and they learn the technology directly, not only producing themselves but also banning our potions from entering their territory, what then?"
Belk immediately said, "I swear by the family bloodline, the East won’t do anything against the knightly spirit. Prince Edmund instructed me before I departed; we are establishing our factory just in case, we still need the Southern borders’ alchemical potions."
Gawain didn’t believe Edmund’s promises at all, but he nodded with an expression of trust, "I’m willing to believe you."
Then he changed tack, "But I must protect the interests of the Southern borders, protect the interests of merchants loyal to me - so if you want to establish a potion factory in the East, I have one condition: it must be jointly established with merchants designated by me."
"Jointly established?"
"Yes, each party covers half the cost, jointly establish and manage the factory, and the profits must be equally divided. Southern borders’ business representatives will protect core technologies from leaking during this process and also provide technical guidance to you. This is my biggest concession."
Belk pondered for a moment, then rose to discuss quietly and quickly with a few people beside him.
Moments later, he returned to his seat, "...I agree. I can represent my father’s and Prince Edmund’s intentions on this matter."
Gawain smiled, "Good, then we need to recalculate the price..."
When the final price was calculated, the young Marquis was taken aback.
"So much?!"
"Isn’t that perfectly normal?" Gawain spread his hands, "If establishing an alchemical factory were easy, I wouldn’t have hesitated on this matter until today. And the factory I’m helping you build isn’t just one; the amount you’re purchasing of initial alchemical potions equates to the total production of traditional alchemical potions in Anzu over the past three years. Considering the traditional potions’ price, today’s price is nothing."
"This... That’s indeed so," Belk once again rubbed his knuckle, showing a difficult expression, "But... to be candid, this price is slightly beyond our expectations."
Gawain said lightly, "That’s because you proposed requirements outside the plan."
Then he proposed the method he mentioned earlier to Victoria: offsetting half of the cash with materials.
However, this time, Belk still showed a troubled look.
After all, the East is only the East. Despite its strong military and a much higher proportion of Transcendent warriors within the army compared to the kingdom’s army, its territorial area, population size, and resource yield can’t be compared to the Kingdom Military supported by the "West Territory - Augari Tribe Nation" trade route, occupying the Plains of the Holy Spirits.
Clearly, their "payment capacity" is quite problematic.
The negotiations seemed to be stuck, but Gawain suddenly broke the silence, "There is another option."
The young Belk immediately raised his head, "What option do you have?"
"In the southwestern region of the East, near the triangular intersection of the Southern borders and the Dark Mountain Range, there is an area called ’White Sand Dunes,’" Gawain said slowly, "It’s said to produce iron and copper, as well as a small amount of magic-guide crystal vein."
"You want White Sand Dunes?" Belk opened his eyes wide, then immediately shook his head, "I’m sorry, I refuse - that’s impossible. Although that area is yet undeveloped, it is the East’s long-term future mining area and a precious territory. Using a piece of permanent land to exchange for temporary alchemical potions and factories is too great a price."
"I don’t intend to take it," Gawain interrupted Belk, "I only intend to mine it for a period - five years. The Southern border will mine the White Sand Dunes for five years, and then it will still be yours. Considering the current situation, this civil war should be over in five years no matter what, and by that time, everything will be settled, and right when we can start entering a new period."
Looking at the serious and earnest expression on Gawain’s face, the future heir of the East, the young Marquis Belk hesitated.
Five years...
He rose once more, and quickly discussed with accompanying advisors and subordinates.
A few minutes later, he returned to face Gawain.
They probably won’t be able to mine much.
"We agree."