Chapter 85 - Sabotage

Even in an era hailed as an age of peace, war does not change.

Some fight to take what they do not have, while others fight to protect what they do.

Person against person.

Group against group.

Nation against nation.

The victor takes everything, and the loser loses even more than that.

The same was true for a peaceful small village that farmed wheat.

Unable to even taste the golden harvest of autumn, they were reduced to refugees forced to wander the wasteland.

In the middle of the plains where a chilly wind blew,

they were huddled together, sharing body heat to survive the coming winter.

They rejoiced at the sight of the three men they had sent as envoys returning, but that joy did not last long.

There was no light of hope on their faces.

"It seems this village is a no-go as well."

"Are they saying they don't have anything to eat either?"

"Isn't it obvious? It looks like they're having a hard time surviving the winter too."

Winter makes people's hearts callous.

At the end of autumn's abundance remains a time of cruel endurance, and to overcome that cruelty, people had no choice but to be exclusive.

For those who had become refugees in such a situation, effectively nothing but death awaited them.

"Damned bastards, if we're fellow humans and believers of Altes, they could at least give us a little something to eat..."

"May the light of judgment strike those damned fools..."

"Stop it, all of you."

As the voices resenting the village grew louder, a man stepped forward.

He was wearing half-plate armor and was the only one carrying a weapon.

"They're just doing it to survive, so what can we do? They probably don't have anything to eat either. With the Empire being a complete mess these days, corrupt officials are running rampant, aren't they?"

"Still, we have weapons too... If we just demand a little bit..."

"Don't do anything useless. We need to be thankful that we walked out of there on our own two feet and move on."

"Move on? Where else is there to go from here?"

They looked out over the vast plains.

The winter land was barren and desolate.

The only land left for them was death.

"How about heading to the south? At least it's warm there."

Just as the far north had the Land of Ice and Frost Giants, the far south was home to the land of fire and magma giants.

The concept of a cold winter did not exist there.

The village chief shook his head.

"That's not a good idea. They say the days in the south are hot, but the nights are even colder. I've heard many people died after underestimating the temperature difference. And..."

"And?"

"According to that village, the bandits in the south are waiting for this exact time of year."

They wouldn't be the first refugees to cross into the south unable to endure the harsh winter cold.

The bandits would be using this opportunity to prepare to rob them of their wealth or sell them into slavery.

"Then what are we supposed to do? Are you saying we should just sit here twiddling our thumbs?"

The refugees felt frustrated by the man's behavior.

The village chief was just as frustrated.

It was his job to be the guiding light that found the best solution amidst these terrible conditions.

After contemplating for about three minutes, he spoke.

"Let's go to the far east."

Everyone was shocked by the man's choice.

"By the far east, do you mean the Land of Demons?"

"They said that's a place where humans can't even live, and you're saying we should go there?"

The man looked at them and explained.

"The village we just visited told me. They said the Empire is looking for workers in the far east. It seems the Regent there is building a town. I heard the daily wages are decent, and there's plenty of space to sleep. I'm sure there's enough to eat as well. If we contribute, they'll surely accept us as residents."

"Even so, to head to that land swarming with demonic creatures..."

Out of resistance, they exchanged glances and hesitated.

The man sighed.

Just a moment ago they had seen hope in a foolish option, yet here they were being indecisive about a viable one.

The man asked them.

"Then are you all just going to stay here and die?"

"..."

"It'll be the same even if we poke around other villages. Unless we resort to banditry, it won't be easy to buy food with just a few pennies, and I refuse to become a beast wearing human skin. Nor will I tolerate you all doing such a thing."

"..."

"If we go to the far east, there will at least be jobs. At the very least, they'll give us money to buy enough food to survive the day, and a place to stay. For people like us who don't know if we'll live to see tomorrow, isn't that more than enough of a luxury?"

They had resistance to the far east, but no one could voice any complaints.

Just as the man said, there was no proper alternative.

Would they turn their backs on the gods and become a band of refugee bandits,

or would they head into the barren wasteland for a new hope?

Whether they died here or there, they had to choose the place that offered a little more hope.

* * *

Isabella entered Ferda's office and reported.

"I have a report. Thirty refugees have arrived from a village called White Bridge."

White Bridge. A village located in the mid-western part of the continent, on land within Duke Yurei's territory.

"This makes the third group of refugees from Duke Yurei's territory. What is the available workforce?"

"A total of six households arrived, with 15 capable of labor, one elder, and 14 children."

"Were there any skilled laborers?"

"White Bridge was originally a village near a quarry. Some of them are quarriers, so they reportedly have knowledge in construction."

"Quarriers will be useful. Understood. How many more people can we accommodate?"

"From what I've checked..."

Isabella answered as she flipped through the documents.

"We can accommodate 300 more."

"There are a lot of buildings."

"Very many. Normally, if this many refugees had gathered, half of them would have had to live in tents."

Ferda stood up from his seat and headed to the balcony.

When he threw the doors wide open, the cold wind rushed in as if it had been waiting for the chance.

The dry, cold wind licked the remaining moisture from Ferda's face.

He could feel it vividly against his skin.

The season of death was steadily approaching.

'Refugees are overflowing too.'

The time when the most refugees appear and the most die.

That, in turn, was another opportunity for the underpopulated far east.

Ferda looked down from his office balcony.

A place that normally should have only shown a thorny field of bare branches.

Down there, wide-open plains and buildings could be seen.

In the spot where there should have only been a disorganized cluster of trees, there were buildings where people lived.

And he could also see the newly arrived 30 refugees huddled around a fire pit.

As Ferda's approval was given, officials handing out relief supplies to them caught his eye.

Tears of emotion flowed and joyful smiles bloomed on their emaciated faces, worn out by hunger.

In an instant, 300 people formed a population, turning it into a town.

'It's living up to the town's name.'

The woman who guards the hearth, Hestia.

The name of the city that overwhelmingly took first place, beating out all the candidates Isabella had proposed.

Already, 20 buildings had been constructed, and the structures originally made as communal spaces were transforming into shops and inns, beginning to form a commercial district.

The reason that was possible was due to several favorable factors.

'The support from the south was the biggest.'

When he first heard that Halim would provide support, he hadn't expected much.

Usually, 'support' just meant piggybacking on someone else's effort to add a single line to a resume sung by bards.

But when the delegation from Halim arrived, he was able to see just how sincere he was.

Hundreds of laborers, construction materials stretching out in a long line, and even elephants.

It was on a completely different scale from when the Pascal trading company provided support.

'Didn't Isabella say she was terrified of what he might demand in return?'

For Isabella, who handled everything calmly, to say such a thing showed just how overwhelming the support was.

Anyway, with the materials airlifted from the south, they quickly built structures in their own architectural style.

In just two weeks, accommodations for envoys and a trading post were established, and about ten more buildings sprang up.

'Other than that, it's definitely...'

A place where a large bundle of logs was floating in the air.

Looking closely, the silhouette of a burly man could be seen in the middle of it.

That man wearing armor, completely out of place at a construction site.

Whatever the case, that man was the biggest contributor.

'Just who on earth are you?'

The way he suddenly popped up, shouldered ten logs at once, and swiftly carried them away was far from ordinary.

If he could, he'd love a tip from someone who had opened that lid, but no one had ever seen inside that armor.

As soon as the work was done, he disappeared.

Sometimes he didn't show up, and other times he would abruptly sprint off somewhere in the middle of work, but even so, he always finished more work than what he was paid for.

'The duty of the privileged... perhaps.'

Service for the weak.

People praised him for displaying magnificent chivalry even through simple manual labor.

'It's highly likely a ploy to earn a title.'

Thinking he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart was a foolish thought.

For now, Ferda was preparing for the man to eventually demand something equal in value to the service he had provided.

"Are there no other unusual matters?"

"As for unusual matters... there is one thing, although it's not a major issue right at this moment."

"What is it?"

"There seems to be a problem with the food and demonic creature supply lines, as they are running about four days past the scheduled delivery date."

Four days.

The transportation environment wasn't good, and modes of travel were limited.

However, to Ferda, even this was a significantly large problem.

Ferda had arranged to receive everything from Stephan as a top priority.

The term 'top priority' included the implication that everything would be supplied exactly on the scheduled delivery dates.

Being delayed by not just one, but four days meant that a problem had arisen with their contract.

'Stephan.'

As a merchant, he was a man with a quick mind. His calculations were solid, and the strategies he proposed were not bad.

'But that's all there is to him.'

Stephan possessed a passive and compromising disposition.

In the endeavors Ferda had to undertake, that personality would be a massive stumbling block.

'Should I discard Stephan?'

Ferda had nothing to lose.

He could simply return what Stephan had invested with treasure.

Furthermore, since Halim was actively assisting with their growth, he could very well form a partnership with them instead.

Inwardly, Halim was probably hoping for exactly that right now.

'Discarding him is easy.'

What should he do?

Just as Ferda was contemplating.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

"Lord Ferda."

Luri called out to Ferda.

"Stephan Pascal wishes to see you, Lord Ferda."

Speak of the devil.

"Tell him to enter."

The door opened, and a man walked inside.

It was hard to believe this was the man Ferda knew.

Stephan Pascal.

Befitting a second-generation heir leading a company, during their first meeting, his face had been plump, oozing wealth.

But now, that fat was nowhere to be found.

He had become as haggard as a refugee who couldn't even eat a proper meal.

Ferda instantly knew something had happened to him.

"It's been a while since the exhibition, Regent."

Ferda did not show his thoughts for now.

"I was just talking about you."

"Because the supplies are delayed, right? Yes, I apologize for that. And..."

He opened his mouth again with difficulty.

"It seems best... if we sever your ties with our... Pascal trading company here."

It was a request to terminate their contract.

Hearing those words, Ferda rested a hand against his own face.

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't understand it.

Ferda had also been considering terminating the contract, but it wasn't something Stephan should have brought up first.

If the contract ended, Ferda could simply find someone new, but Stephan would lose everything.

He wondered where this irrational decision had come from.

That was why Ferda did not say, 'Very well.'

"Why?"

He asked, and Stephan answered.

"I don't think it's a realm I can handle anymore."

Ferda asked.

"What exactly is the realm you can handle?"

"The things I can do... and the things I currently possess."

"What I expect of you hasn't changed. Everything is exactly the same."

"..."

"What has changed must be your heart."

Stephan could not answer.

Ferda leaned forward.

"If I am convinced, I will terminate it at any time. So tell me. Just what exactly happened?"

Stephan's words forced their way past his lips.

He confessed his situation.

The story of what happened at the dinner with his father.

And the friction between siblings over Halim.

And everything he lost as a result.

Only then could Ferda see the inner circumstances of Stephan that he hadn't known about.

"Muchit got angry at you, and you said you were going to monopolize the rights to Halim?"

"... Yes."

"So all the mercenaries who originally served as guards pulled out, and everything started going to hell?"

If one understood the system within the Empire, it was a completely plausible story.

As the commercial sector was highly developed, mercenaries also operated in the form of companies.

The Pascal mercenary company established by Muchit Pascal was undeniably the top in the industry.

The number of affiliated mercenaries alone exceeded 10,000, and including the small and medium-sized ones they subcontracted to, the number surpassed 30,000.

Having caused friction with such a Muchit Pascal, the price was bound to be steep.

The sword and shield in Stephan's hands had essentially vanished in an instant.

"And even after filling that void, they weren't reliable, meaning incidents kept occurring."

"That's right..."

If security is lax, the system collapses.

The goods that were supposed to be supplied to Ferda as a priority had also been stolen.

It was like a showroom with no windows.

"So... the carriages heading to the Grand Duchy's territory... were also attacked."

Now, the reason the deliveries were delayed had also been revealed.

"I found out two days ago. The carriages were attacked and everyone... Sandy, Coben, too..."

Unable to finish his sentence, Stephan buried his face in his hands.

That incident had become the decisive trigger that broke his spirit.

"I can't do it anymore. I was never a man with the caliber to handle something like this in the first place. Wanting the Pascal trading company, trying to monopolize magical engineering... all of them were things I should never have reached for."

"..."

"So I will give up. Regent. Thank you for giving an incompetent fool like me a chance until now—"

"That monopoly."

Before he could even finish, Ferda interrupted.

"Was it something we needed?"

"M-Monopoly, you mean?"

"Yes. Was that something necessary for the profits we needed to protect?"

Now that things had reached this point, Stephan thought about it.

Was it... necessary?

It would have been perfectly fine to just share the pie instead of insisting on monopolizing it himself.

"Think carefully about the reason you had in mind back then, and give me an answer."

Following Ferda's instructions, Stephan recalled the memories of that day.

And he answered.

"... It was."

"Then you're saying you fought to protect what was ours."

"..."

"You fought for the first time, but crumbled in despair in the end."

"That is correct."

"Are you ashamed of the fact that you failed?"

Stephan hung his head low.

"It is a shameful thing."

"So you're trying to escape this situation by terminating the contract?"

"I wasn't trying to escape."

"That is escaping. Instead of facing the pain, you are compromising."

"That incident was also an opportunity for me to reflect on myself."

Stephan let out a hollow laugh.

There was no focus in his pupils.

"I lack ability, yet I'm pointlessly greedy, and I don't even have the courage to grasp anything. Only after losing everything... do I finally come to my senses like some third-rate trash."

Self-reproach and self-loathing.

It was visible just how heavy a burden was crushing down on his hunched back.

Ferda himself had experienced that as well.

"Is that why you couldn't reach out your hand to me?"

"... Yes."

Afraid that only his incompetence would be magnified.

Afraid of exposing his flaws, and being despised for them.

The fear had grown and grown, crushing him until it finally brought him to his knees.

"Stephan."

"Yes, Regent."

"I asked for exactly one thing. Do you remember what it was?"

He knew.

He had stated it so clearly that it remained vividly etched in his mind even to this moment.

"You told me... to become the master of the Pascal trading company."

"That was the contract between us. What did you do for that contract? You supplied goods."

"I did."

"You filled the supply shortages across the entire Grand Duchy's territory and paved the way. Such a process could never have been easy, yet you persevered."

"..."

"In order to become the master of the Pascal trading company."

Stephan did not answer.

Afraid that he might reveal this welling emotion if he misspoke, he kept his mouth tightly shut like an idiot.

Ferda continued speaking.

"I'll say it again, we made a contract."

"..."

"You supply us with goods, and I make you the master of the Pascal trading company."

It was those words that had pressured Stephan.

However, in this moment, strangely enough, he didn't feel any pressure.

"That means if you fight to become the master of the company, I will gladly take your side."

Instead, he felt the weight crushing his shoulders fall away.

"So I will ask you just one last time."

Ferda asked for the final time in a calm voice.

"Do you truly want to give up everything?"

Life began to return to Stephan's corpse-like eyes.

Everything he had come prepared to give up and let go of began to look different.

Stephan was a merchant.

Who in the world would be happy after losing everything?

He didn't want to feel the supposed happiness of non-possession.

His true desire was to use failure as a stepping stone to leap toward success.

"Huuuk..."

Stephan shed tears.

Along with this sorrow welling up in his throat, he brought out his true feelings that had been with him since childhood.

"I want to become... the master of the Pascal trading company."

Stephan sobbed, his nose pressed against the marble floor.

He wept uncontrollably, unable to say another word.

Ferda looked down at him and spoke quietly.

"Administrator Isabella."

Isabella, who had been watching the entire situation, pushed up her glasses.

"Speak."

"Summon all the nobles across the far eastern Grand Duchy's territory to the assembly hall of the far eastern front alliance."

"Understood. What should I list as the reason for the summons?"

Ferda spoke calmly.

"Sabotage against the entire Grand Duchy's territory."