You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 96 The Future Era

The movements of the Grand Duke of Nuchao are unclear.

Count El had no choice but to take the situation seriously and stop selling iron ingots.

When this trend reached Roman, Morey's caravan arrived half a month late, and Hoss's caravan arrived a month late, delaying his development time considerably.
Only after Count El received a clear order were they willing to release the iron ingots whose whereabouts were already known, but which had yet to be released.

"Count El asked me to pass on a message to you."

Hoss knew he shouldn't have said it, but he said it anyway.

"Given the volatile situation ahead, if you still want these high-quality iron ingots, the price in Irontree Territory may have to go up."

Roman glanced at him indifferently, his eyes showing no surprise, no anger, only calmness and a fixed gaze.

Hoss's heart tightened suddenly. He had originally intended to put on airs, but at this moment he dared not act arrogantly.

He hurriedly explained, "No matter who the buyer is, the price of all iron ingots will rise." These were Count El's exact words.

Those with foresight recognized that a turbulent era was about to begin.

This isn't directed at any particular person, but rather an era that everyone will face.

Roman raised his chin and said, "Then this is our last deal."

Hoss stared wide-eyed at the decisive young lord, who abandoned the business contract as if he were throwing away something insignificant.

But that's not something insignificant.

It's iron!
Raw materials for swords, arrows, spears, and even armor!

This land is the absolute hard currency!

If it weren't unsuitable as currency, iron coins would be the most popular thing right now!
More important than food most of the time!
Do you know what you are talking about?

How many years can I keep these ironclad promises I'm giving you?
It will wear out completely in two years at most!
I'll see what you're using two years from now!
If it weren't for my good-for-nothing brother contacting me, and if I weren't able to make a fortune, why would I bring the iron ingots from Irontree Territory to your side? Just because your place produces salt?

Okay, maybe add some maltose too...

“If you grant me the sales rights to maltose, I can secure a special price for you.” Hoss didn’t know what he was talking about.

Roman's reactions were completely unexpected, whether it was the maltose or his attitude when he heard about the price increase of iron ingots.

His plan was to use maltose to persuade Count El to offset the ever-rising price of iron ingots, and then he could profit from it.

Previously, 25 jin of iron ingots could be exchanged for 500 jin of salt.

In the future, 30 or 40 jin of iron ingots can be exchanged for 500 jin of salt and a bucket of maltose.

But Roman ignored this.

He had little interest in buying iron ingots in the long term.

Count El wanted to raise prices, but Roman disagreed, so they parted ways—that was his intention all along, and whether or not prices were raised was secondary.

The transaction is now complete, and these iron ingots will certainly be enough for the short term.

As for the long term?

If he couldn't smelt iron within a year, he would jump into the sword-making furnace.

Roman instructed Seth to arrange for men to unload the iron ingots from the ship Hoth.

There were other goods in the hold as well. A skilled merchant could make good use of all the space on a transport ship, carrying dozens of different kinds of goods; those five thousand catties of iron ingots wouldn't even fill the space of a single transport ship.

After acquiring the iron ingots, Roman selectively purchased other goods from Hoss, all of which were resources for development.

But Hoss showed little interest.

The profits from those linen and fur businesses were not high.

They could only watch helplessly as Morey's crew unloaded barrel after barrel of maltose from the wagon, carried it on their shoulders, and loaded it into the ship's hold.

He counted them carefully and found that there were at least a hundred barrels, enough to fill the holds of two merchant ships.

Sugar was extremely scarce in this era, and noble lords only levied sugar taxes symbolically, never considering sugar as a legitimate taxable commodity.

The thought of the enormous profits made his eyes red with envy.

Ignoring transportation and manpower, this is nearly a hundred gold coins!

"Morey, you're really something, how did you manage to get so much candy?"

"Hoss said in a low, resentful voice."

Seeing Morey make money is more painful than seeing him lose money.

Morey glanced at Hoss, unmoved by the vicious curse he uttered.

Businessmen have heard far more vicious insults.

They dealt with elegant and respectable nobles, as well as with the despicable and cunning lower classes, whose vulgar and offensive language was a veritable art of language.

"If you want it, come and get it yourself."

"Morey, you're just an indecisive coward, you'll never amount to anything!" Hoss sneered. "Of course, if you were to give it to me at cost, I'd have a different opinion of you."

Morey chuckled and said, "You know the family rules."

Hoss's face darkened. "I won't beg for mercy. Don't forget, Morey, I'm the person Father values ​​most..."

Morey didn't waste any more words with Hoss.

This time, he transported 100,000 catties of salt directly from Sige Town, only needing to pay Roman 100 gold coins. Transporting so much salt was truly out of necessity, as he needed to use this salt to build connections.

Because of the 5,000 jin of iron ingots he brought, Hoss also transported 100,000 jin of salt. Morey knew that even if he didn't get the maltose, Hoss had made a fortune; this batch of salt would be enough for him to consume for several months.

Roman told Hoss that if he wanted to take salt from Sig Town in the future, he should exchange it for real gold or silver, or even slaves.

This is an incredible temptation.

A stable, high-yield, and high-quality salt mine is incredibly attractive to merchants.

Because not all merchants can always purchase large quantities of salt, and salt merchants will never be rampant, otherwise it would disrupt everyone's business. It is necessary to open up certain key channels.

Without connections, merchants cannot purchase salt, regardless of the salt-producing region.

This was a tacit understanding among the nobility, used to reap the wealth of the land.

But Roman was focused on rampant expansion and making money recklessly, and didn't care about this at all.

He thought all the nobles were idiots and there was no need to maintain the so-called tacit understanding and rules. He wished he could flip the table on the spot and smash them all to pieces with one punch.

The two caravans departed from Sig Town one after the other.

The river gradually widened.

Hoss stood at the bow of the ship and asked Morey from a distance, "Morey, where are you going?"

"Iceland."

“How dare you go there!” He shuddered at the words. “Those brutal pirates will board your merchant ship, rob your goods, tie you up and hang you on the mast, and extort money from you—don’t expect me to pay your ransom. Those pirates won’t get anything out of you; they’ll cut your head off and kick it into the sea.”

Hoss's smile faltered as he recalled the savage and bloody scene.

Morey glanced speechlessly at his half-brother. Hoss seemed arrogant, but he was actually a bit timid.

“I’m not going to the heart of Iceland. I’m just going to contact the slave traders there. Lord Roman asked me to send him 300 slaves every month. I don’t need you to pay me ransom.”

Hoss was immediately moved and said, "You got the Rift Armor family's... but he's just a fiefdom noble, he's not qualified to grant you the Rift Armor banner, and you got his personal banner? Damn it, how could you do such a stupid thing?"
"No one would choose to befriend a minor noble over a great one, would they? You're such a fool. How far can his name spread? It won't even reach beyond the Bro River. His friendship is of no use to you!"
"Do you think that wretched place has any potential? Their lord won't even bother to repair the docks."

"Even if it can produce salt, what's the use? Salt mines will not only bring wealth, but will also attract the covetous eyes of other nobles."

“Count El has Irontree Territory, so he doesn’t care about that place, but that doesn’t mean other nobles don’t want a salt-producing area, especially the nobles of other salt fields… Just wait and see, if it weren’t for the intervention of the Grand Duke of Cracked Armor, they would have attacked by next year at the latest!”

"The iron ingots I transported only amounted to a little over 10,000 jin. He couldn't even assemble an army of more than 500 men, and he couldn't even afford armor."

“Morey, you must be insane! You actually agreed to transport slaves for such a minor noble family? Do you know how heavy this burden is for you? If those slave traders can't reach Sig Town in time, you'll have to use all your strength to get this done…”

Hoss kept talking.

Under the scorching sun, it was like a noisy fly buzzing around my ear, irritating me, as if it were flying over the Bro River.

Morey remained unmoved.

Hoss said he was crazy. He said he was stupid.

Perhaps.

For Hoth, who had gained the friendship of Count El and was able to conduct steel trade, this was an incomprehensible act.

To gain the friendship of a minor nobleman in a remote region, he made such an effort.

This means he no longer has the energy to cultivate a friendship with a second nobleman.

Morey also knew how absurd his actions were.

Serin's assessment of him was "indecisive and incapable of achieving great things."

The comment given to Hoss was that he was "too sharp and overly ambitious."

—That’s roughly the meaning of those long classical phrases when condensed.

The children of the Selin family only receive a sum of start-up capital after they reach adulthood, and then they have to go out and make their own way in the world.

The most outstanding child will inherit all the wealth of the great merchant Serin in the future.

Therefore, Hoss was constantly pursuing the highest profits and spared no effort in eliminating other competitors, hoping to become the successor.

Morey is always seeking the safest environment.

Morey and his brother don't have much in common—except for business dealings—they cooperate but are essentially competitors, so fiercely that they can steal each other's business.

Morey knew what he was doing.

Ever since the witch named Shasta left his caravan and became famous throughout the northern lands, a kind of alarm bell in his heart has been ringing day and night.

A chaotic era is about to begin.

Gods survey the earth, kings and popes wield swords. Lords roam freely, knights charge. Pirates revel, barbarians dance, witches daggers lurk in the shadows. Sparks fly, war spreads, blood and fire flow.

This land will soon enter a dark age of turmoil and unpredictability.

Whenever Morey thought of that scene, he trembled like a fish before a storm.

He swam forward with all his might, just to grasp a glimmer of light from that bygone era.

But he swam too slowly, the sea was too wide, and he returned empty-handed. He could only watch helplessly as the faint light in the gloom thundered away like lightning, while the darkness behind him relentlessly pursued him...

That's too late.

That's too late.

He could only flick his tail, creating a tiny ripple on the vast sea, before turning and disappearing into the deep ocean.

We must find the safest shelter before the Dark Ages arrive!

(End of this chapter)