Chapter 79 : Wit

Chapter 79: Wit

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump—

Could this really be the sound of a human heart?

Renajora Chemien was desperate.

He wore the same familiar smile across his face, his hands and feet moving gracefully in courtesy… but—

‘I want to run away!’

That was what he truly felt inside.

The corpse of one of the Five Kings was lying right in front of him!

The blood was overflowing, soaking his knees right now!

Hadn’t he even witnessed it clearly?

The two Swordmasters he had brought along as escorts lowered their gaze the instant their eyes met Ransen’s!

‘What? The two of them together couldn’t match Haarun or Ransen, what?!’

Renajora wanted to scream and run away immediately, but he forced himself to endure.

If he backed away, he could gain nothing.

That was how he had always lived.

“The lowly merchant Renajora Chemien congratulates His Highness Grand Duke Ransen, rightful ruler of Ilunael, on his victory.”

His mind was going blank with fear, yet words flowed from his lips like a rushing stream.

His smile looked composed, but his head was in complete turmoil, like a nest of hornets.

In his imagination—

Ransen snarled, Who are you? and cut off his head in one swing.

Ransen muttered, You displease me, and stomped him flat.

Even if Ransen stayed silent, one of his subordinates beheaded him...

Ransen… Ransen…

Every ending in his mind spiraled into death.

At the end of that hellish delusion, Ransen’s voice reached him.

“Ah, it’s you, isn’t it? They say you rank among the top three of the Golden Trade Route? The Thousand-faced Caravan.”

“I only worry that such an unworthy name as mine might sully your noble ears.”

“Well… pleased to meet you. This place is inconvenient—let’s talk inside. Someone, bring him fresh clothes. Prepare some tea as well.”

Ransen’s manner was already that of one who claimed Ilunael as his own without hesitation.

Ah, so that was the bearing of a sovereign!

What? I thought it would take at least ten years?

And I—have these worthless eyes in my skull, failing to see it?!

Renajora’s heart smoldered and rotted away with every passing second.

And yet—

After changing into clean clothes and drinking warm tea, he felt a little more alive.

Though Haarun’s pale corpse still flickered at the edge of his thoughts…

At least he could sit across from Ransen with a shred more composure.

They sat with a low table between them, on plush and splendid sofas.

‘Eyes? Okay. Smile? Good. Hands? Fine, not shaking.’

After that self-check, Renajora braced himself.

‘Phew… right. I can do this.’

I had to stay calm.

A merchant must never lose composure.

No matter how terrified I was, I had to seize the opportunity before me and avoid the danger.

The trick was to be afraid, but never to look afraid.

He barely managed to steel himself, and when he finally met Ransen’s gaze directly—

“Anyway.”

Ransen slowly leaned forward.

“Am I that frightening to you, Renajora?”

Hiccup!

With a violent hiccup, only one thought shot through Renajora’s mind.

‘Thank goodness. At least it happened after I swallowed the tea…’

At the very least, he wouldn’t be executed for the crime of spraying tea in Ransen’s face.

*         *         *

How strange.

I quietly observed Renajora.

Something kept tickling at my senses.

‘Emotions…? Will…?’

Something like that faintly seeped through.

Thinking back, this hadn’t just suddenly begun.

‘Was it after achieving Unity of Sword and Self?’

The realm where my will and the sword’s will were united.

After realizing that, it seemed I had changed.

I could faintly read the will of others.

I hadn’t noticed it before… but now that I had some breathing room, I was certain.

That Renajora, sitting there so calmly, was in fact hiding an overwhelming terror.

‘Being a merchant isn’t easy either.’

For someone so timid, how many challenges must he have endured to build one of the Three Great Trade Unions of Roberland?

As I thought that and gazed steadily at him, cracks began to spread across Renajora’s calm expression.

Oh?

If I pressed just a little harder, would something break through?

Would I see his true nature?

...This could be amusing.

“Your Highness Grand Duke Ransen!”

…Good instincts.

The very moment I felt mischief stirring, he abruptly cut in, snatching away my timing.

But wait—Grand Duke?

Until now, people had called me Count.

Had I become Grand Duke because Ilunael was now the fourth city under me?

It was obvious flattery, but it was delivered with such shameless naturalness that I couldn’t dislike it.

“In truth, I prepared a modest gift to celebrate Your Highness’s victory.”

Honestly, I felt indifferent.

Was there really anything I needed right now?

I’d laid eyes on countless treasures recently.

Even those precious ancient artifacts were overflowing in Subspace.

An ordinary gift wouldn’t cut it.

That was what I thought—until,

“…Oh?”

The exclamation slipped out of me unconsciously.

What Renajora Chemien produced from his bosom was—

A vial, no larger than a finger.

Transparent, yet radiating a holy brilliance that lit up the surroundings.

I knew that.

I knew it very well.

“Elixir… isn’t it?”

The Thousand-faced Caravan, Renajora Chemien, smiled faintly.

“As expected, you recognize it?”

It was real.

It truly was.

Elixir.

He then produced a box lined with soft cushions and carefully placed the Elixir on top.

Tak—

Rising from his seat, he knelt on one knee before me and offered it reverently onto the table.

Even up close—it was Elixir.

The genuine thing.

The Elixir that I couldn’t find even in the Lorraine Laboratory was falling into my hands in this way?

A flood of emotions crossed my heart.

When I finally lifted my head after a long while to look at Renajora, he was still bowing without a single break in composure.

Well now—

Suddenly, he looked like a completely different man.

Just a moment ago, I’d been a little colder in judgment.

In Roberland, wealth ultimately stemmed from the Golden Trade Route that connected the eastern and western continents, and the man before me held a major share in that route as a caravan master.

So yes, I had half a mind to weigh gains and losses by his impression, and if I disliked him, to cut him off and support another merchant in his place.

But now? Even if this man tried to cheat me once, I felt like I might let it slide.

At the same time, I realized something.

“So it was you? I was wondering how Haarun had survived.”

Renajora flinched in shock.

“Ah… it was only a gift I gave a very long time ago.”

What resourcefulness. Elixir wasn’t something money alone could buy—yet he had two bottles?

“You have more?”

“N-no, none. I was blessed with heavenly fortune to obtain only two.”

Hm… judging by the will I sensed, that was close to the truth.

“Pity. Seah?”

“Yes, Your Highness the Grand Duke.”

When I called for Seah, she too addressed me as Grand Duke.

…So now we’re going with Grand Duke?

Anyway, Seah was Seah.

She understood what I wanted without fail.

With her emotionless eyes, she looked down at Renajora.

“Merchant Renajora Chemien. What you seek is the inheritance of the privileges you once enjoyed, is it not?”

Renajora opened his mouth to speak, but Seah’s words continued a step ahead.

“Tax exemptions. Trading posts in the most favorable locations. Priority in rulings for any litigation—lawsuit precedence. Exclusive rights to Etopf Mountain’s smoke-coffee. And the deployment of guards to provide you with additional protection. Correct?”

Renajora’s eyes flew wide.

He hadn’t expected that we, who had only just taken control of Ilunael, would know such detailed information.

But really, Seah, how do you know all this?

I was just as surprised.

Still, showing it would be a mistake.

I nodded, as though it were naturally something I already knew.

‘So that’s it. His demands are the inheritance of those privileges.’

Deliberation?

I decided not to bother.

Renajora’s first impression had passed.

The decisiveness to come to me right after Haarun’s death.

The control to feel terror yet never show it.

And on top of that, a gift that pleased me immensely.

He seemed like someone worth taking along.

“I’ll grant that request. But next time you come, there are certain goods I’ll need you to procure. As many as possible.”

As soon as my words ended, Seah laid a sheet of paper on the table.

It was a list of costly materials—

the ones Seah and Asha needed for their ongoing research into ancient magic.

They had to be sourced from multiple continents, which was no easy feat.

But Renajora, after reviewing the list, nodded with confidence.

“Magic materials, I see. Quite rare… but I can procure them.”

He drew paper and pen from his bosom.

“I’ll bring them. Then, let me prepare an estimate right now—”

“Hm?”

“...An estimate...”

“Hm?”

An estimate?

Seriously?

Renajora fell silent for a moment, then hastily crumpled the paper and pen back into his robes and broke into a wide smile.

“Of course, I must present them as tribute. I will. I shall procure them and offer them in full tribute.”

That’s better.

With a pleased heart, I gestured for Renajora to sit again.

We once more faced each other on the sofas.

We drank tea, exchanged light conversation,

and I was about ready to bring this meeting to a close.

It had been a day filled with far too much blood.

I only wanted to chat a bit with my siblings and get some rest.

But just as my mind had already half drifted away—

“I would like to purchase relics of Glowingsteel. I can buy them at fifty percent above the price you currently receive.”

This merchant once again cast a lure I could hardly refuse.

“Oh?”

Fifty percent?

I wouldn’t complain… but could he still profit at that rate?

Flash—

Renajora’s eyes gleamed.

It was striking.

Renajora Chemien.

Even though the pounding of his terrified heart still rang clear in my ears, he didn’t waver. He stated his demand with certainty.

“Only grant me exclusive rights to relics from the Glowingsteel ruins. If you allow that, I have full confidence. At first, I will purchase at fifty percent above the current rate. Later, I shall keep only twenty percent of the profit, offering the remaining eighty percent to Your Highness, the Grand Duke.”

It was an impressive turn of speech.

Had he led with the demand for exclusive rights, I might have thought him arrogant.

But by first presenting the fifty percent increase, he naturally captured my interest, while making the request sound like a modest favor.

Even the terms themselves weren’t bad.

That Haarun bastard had demanded seventy percent for himself.

‘Amusing…’

Such skill. Such overwhelming fear, yet the courage to master it. Where did it come from?

What kind of future did this man dream of, that he could stand like this?

‘What mark will he leave upon this world, I wonder?’

Perhaps because I’d drifted through the Age of Magic so many times, I found myself turning sentimental.

What remains, and what does not—

and the gap between them.

…Well.

Whatever the case,

I liked him.

“All right.”

I rose from my seat and extended my hand.

For a moment, Renajora just stared blankly at it. Then he dropped to one knee and tried to kiss the back of my hand.

“Hey, hey.”

I quickly pulled him up, clasped his right hand lightly, and shook it twice.

“Like this. This is how you do it. A handshake. A greeting I came up with.”

“Ah… y-yes…”

Renajora flustered, fumbling.

For some reason, that made me amused.

I didn’t know how things would turn out yet… but for now, it was a good start.

*         *         *

Emperor Rokshutalen burst into laughter as he read the report.

“He was wearing armor radiating a strange wave of mana? And with that, his martial might soared, and magical effects manifested?”

He looked delighted.

But because no one could predict the Emperor’s mood, the courtiers watched him with tense eyes.

Imperial Emperor Rokshutalen Galotin.

The purple glow in his abyss-like gaze gleamed coldly.

“Not laughing?”

At those words—

“Hahahahaha!”

“Hohoho!”

The courtiers hurriedly laughed, whether they understood or not.

Only then did the Emperor, satisfied, let a smile slip as he flicked the report onto the table and muttered:

“Now I see. Ransen. So that’s who he’s aligned with. A being that conveys knowledge long thought annihilated… impressive, isn’t it? He even chose the right line. To wield none other than the Dragon’s Magical Armor of the Age of Magic…?”

The Emperor sank into solitary contemplation.

At such times, everyone knew to keep silent.

The courtiers, who had been laughing so hard, quickly checked themselves, their chuckles fading into silence.

A moment of stillness.

At last, the Emperor ended his musing and spoke again.

“Well then. Are preparations complete?”

The one to answer was the mysterious man who always stood by the Emperor’s side.

Neither his office, nor his rank, nor even his identity was known.

He simply bowed his hooded head, his face hidden beneath a black robe, and replied:

“Yes. A report came yesterday that all preparations are complete.”

“Good. The time has come. Then proceed.”

“Yes. I shall.”

At the man’s reply, the Emperor’s pale lips curved into a pristine smile.

Stretching out his long, white fingers, he caressed the map of Norberju, which he had been keeping open these days.

“You’ve prepared a grand feast—then gorge yourselves. You filthy, wretched creatures born of chaos. Feast upon the flesh and souls of these pitiful humans.”

And then—

“Ransen.”

The Emperor rolled that bothersome name on his tongue.

“This time, I’ll be watching. To see your worth.”

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