Chapter 85

Sabotage

Even in an age hailed as an era of peace, war remained unchanged.

Some fought to obtain what they lacked, while others fought to protect what they already possessed.

Person against person.

Group against group.

Nation against nation.

The victors took everything, while the defeated lost even more.

The peaceful little village that had once grown wheat was no exception.

Before they could even taste autumn’s golden bounty, its people had been reduced to refugees wandering the wilderness.

In the middle of a plain swept by chilly winds, they huddled together, sharing their body heat as they struggled to survive the winter.

They rejoiced when the three men they had sent as envoys returned, but that relief did not last long.

There was no glimmer of hope on the men’s faces.

“I’m afraid that village won’t take us in either.”

“Did they say they had no food to spare?”

“Isn’t it obvious? It seems they’re barely managing to survive the winter themselves.”

Winter made people coldhearted.

At the end of autumn’s abundance came a cruel period of endurance, and to survive that cruelty, people had no choice but to become exclusionary.

For those who had already become refugees, only death seemed to await them.

“Damn them. If they’re fellow humans and believers in Alte, they could at least give us a little food…”

“May the light of judgment fall upon those bastards…”

“That’s enough.”

As the voices cursing the villagers grew louder, a man stepped forward.

He wore half-plate armor and was the only person among them carrying proper weapons.

“Can you blame them for trying to survive? They probably don’t have any food to spare either. The Empire’s been a complete mess lately, and corrupt officials are running rampant.”

“But we have weapons… If we asked for just a little, surely they could…”

“Don’t do anything foolish. We should be grateful that we were allowed to leave on our own two feet.”

“Leave? Where else are we supposed to go?”

They looked out over the vast plain.

The land in winter was barren and devastated.

The only thing left for them there was death.

“What about heading south? At least it’s warm there.”

Just as the frozen lands and Frost Giants lay in the far north, the lands of fire and Lava Giants lay in the far south.

There was no such thing as a cold winter there.

The village chief shook his head.

“That’s not a good idea. I’ve heard that while the days in the south are hot, the nights are even colder. Many people have died after underestimating the temperature difference. And…”

“And?”

“The people in that village said the southern bandits are waiting for this exact season.”

They could not have been the first refugees driven south by the bitter winter cold.

The bandits would be waiting to rob them of their possessions or sell them into slavery.

“Then what are we supposed to do? Are you saying we should just sit here and starve?”

The refugees were frustrated by the man’s attitude.

The village chief was just as frustrated.

It was his duty to serve as a guiding light and find the best path through such terrible circumstances.

After thinking for about three minutes, he spoke.

“Let’s go to the far east.”

Everyone stared at him in shock.

“The far east? You mean the Demon Lands?”

“I heard humans can’t even survive there. You want us to go there?”

The man explained.

“The village we just visited told us something. The Empire is recruiting workers for the far east. Apparently, the regent there is building a settlement. The daily wages are decent, and they have plenty of places to sleep. They’ll surely have enough food as well. If we contribute, they’ll eventually accept us as residents.”

“But that land is constantly overrun by monsters…”

They hesitated, exchanging uneasy glances.

The man sighed.

Until moments ago, they had clung to hope in foolish choices, yet now they became indecisive when presented with an option that actually had a chance of success.

He asked them,

“Then are you all planning to stay here until you die?”

“…”

“It’ll be the same no matter how many other villages we visit. Unless we turn to banditry, it won’t be easy to buy food with the few coins we have left. I refuse to become a beast wearing a human face. And I won’t allow any of you to do it either.”

“…”

“If we go to the far east, there will at least be work. They’ll pay us enough to buy food for the day and provide us with somewhere to stay. For people like us who might not survive another day or two, doesn’t that sound more than generous?”

They still felt uneasy about the far east, but no one could object.

As the man had said, they had no viable alternative.

Would they forsake their god and become a band of refugee brigands?

Or would they head into the barren lands in search of new hope?

If death awaited them either way, they had no choice but to choose the path that offered even the slightest chance of survival.

***

Isabella entered Ferda’s office and delivered her report.

“Reporting. Thirty refugees have arrived from a village called White Bridge.”

White Bridge was a village in the central-western part of the continent, within the Duchy of Yurei.

“This makes the third group of refugees from the Duchy of Yurei. How many of them are fit for work?”

“A total of six households arrived. Fifteen are capable of labor, one is elderly, and fourteen are children.”

“Any skilled workers among them?”

“White Bridge was originally located near a quarry. Some of them worked as quarrymen, so they have knowledge related to construction.”

“Quarrymen should be useful. Understood. How many more people can we accommodate?”

“According to my calculations…”

Isabella searched through the documents before answering.

“We can accommodate another three hundred.”

“We have quite a lot of buildings.”

“Far more than expected. Under normal circumstances, if this many refugees had gathered, half of them would already be living in tents.”

Ferda rose from his seat and walked toward the balcony.

The moment he threw the doors wide open, a cold wind rushed inside as though it had been waiting for the opportunity.

The dry, frigid air licked away the moisture remaining on Ferda’s face.

He could feel it clearly against his skin.

The season of death was drawing ever closer.

‘And the number of refugees will continue to rise.’

Winter was the season when the greatest number of refugees appeared—and when the greatest number of them died.

For the sparsely populated far east, however, that also presented another opportunity.

Ferda looked down from the balcony beneath his office.

Normally, he should have seen nothing but a thorny wasteland filled with bare branches.

Instead, open plains and buildings stretched out before him.

Where there should have been only disorderly clusters of forest, there were now homes inhabited by people.

He could also see the thirty newly arrived refugees huddled around a brazier.

With Ferda’s approval granted, officials were distributing relief supplies to them.

Tears of gratitude streamed down their gaunt, hunger-stricken faces, and smiles of joy spread across their lips.

Just like that, the population had swiftly reached three hundred, transforming the settlement into a proper village.

‘It’s beginning to live up to its name.’

Hestia.

The woman who guarded the flame.

Of all the names Isabella had proposed, it had won first place by an overwhelming margin and become the name of the town.

Twenty buildings had already been constructed, while structures originally intended as communal spaces were being converted into shops and inns, gradually forming a commercial district.

Several fortunate developments had made such rapid growth possible.

‘The support from the south was the greatest factor.’

When Ferda had first heard that Halim intended to support them, he had not expected much.

After all, most forms of “support” amounted to little more than adding a token contribution so that a bard could later embellish it into an impressive line on someone’s list of achievements.

However, when Halim’s delegation arrived, Ferda realized how sincere their offer had been.

There were hundreds of laborers, long lines of construction materials—and even elephants.

The scale was on an entirely different level from the support once provided by the Pascal Trading Company.

‘Didn’t Isabella say it was enough to make her afraid of what they might demand in return?’

For Isabella, who handled nearly everything with complete composure, to say such a thing showed just how extensive the support was.

In any case, the materials transported from the south were quickly used to erect buildings in their own architectural style.

In only two weeks, accommodations for the delegation and a trading post had been completed, along with more than ten additional buildings.

‘Aside from that, there’s also…’

A massive bundle of logs floated through the air.

Looking closely, one could make out the figure of a sturdy man standing at its center.

The man wore armor that looked entirely out of place at a construction site.

Whatever his identity, he had been the greatest contributor of them all.

‘Who the hell are you?’

He would suddenly appear, hoist ten logs at once, and hurry away with them as though they weighed nothing.

Ferda wanted to ask anyone who had managed to see beneath that helmet, but no one had ever glimpsed what was inside the armor.

As soon as the work was finished, the man vanished.

There were times when he did not appear at all, and sometimes he would suddenly sprint away in the middle of a job.

Even so, he always completed far more work than he was paid for before disappearing.

‘The duty of those who possess wealth… is that it?’

Service for the weak.

People praised even his simple labor as an exemplary display of chivalry.

‘More likely, it’s a scheme to earn himself a title.’

It would be foolish to assume he was doing it out of pure goodwill.

Ferda was already preparing himself for the possibility that the man would eventually demand compensation equal to the value of his service.

“Were there any other unusual developments?”

“By unusual developments… there is one matter. It is not a major problem at present, however.”

“What is it?”

“There appears to be a problem with the supply route for food and monster materials. The shipment is four days behind schedule.”

Four days.

The roads were poor, and transportation options were limited.

Even so, this was still a serious problem for Ferda.

Stephan had agreed to supply Ferda with everything on a top-priority basis.

The term top priority implied that all goods would arrive by the scheduled delivery date.

Being delayed not by one day, but four, meant that something had gone wrong with the contract.

‘Stephan.’

He was a sharp-minded man when it came to commerce. His calculations were reliable, and the strategies he proposed were not bad.

‘But that’s all.’

Stephan was passive and inclined toward compromise.

That temperament would become a considerable obstacle in the work Ferda intended to undertake.

‘Should I discard Stephan?’

Ferda had nothing to regret.

He could simply return the value of Stephan’s investments in treasure.

Moreover, Halim was now actively supporting the territory’s growth, so forming a partnership with them instead was a perfectly realistic option.

Halim likely wanted that as well.

‘Abandoning him would be easy.’

What should he do?

As Ferda considered the matter—

Knock, knock.

“Lord Ferda.”

Luri called to him.

“Stephan Pascal wishes to see you.”

Speak of the tiger, and it appears.

“Send him in.”

The door opened, and a man entered.

It was difficult to believe this was the same person Ferda remembered.

Stephan Pascal.

As befitted the second-generation heir of a commercial enterprise, his face had been full and prosperous when they first met.

Now, however, all that flesh was gone.

He looked as haggard as a refugee who had not eaten a proper meal in days.

Ferda immediately sensed that something had happened to him.

“This is our first meeting since the exhibition, Regent.”

Ferda did not let his concern show.

“We were just speaking about you.”

“Because the supplies are late, I assume. Yes. I apologize for that. And…”

He struggled to continue.

“I believe… it would be best for our relationship with the Pascal Trading Company to end here.”

It was a request to terminate their contract.

Upon hearing that, Ferda touched his face.

No matter how he considered it, he could not understand.

Ferda himself had been contemplating ending the contract, but it was not something Stephan should have proposed first.

Ferda could simply acquire a new partner, but Stephan would lose everything.

Ferda wanted to know what had led him to make such an irrational decision.

That was why he did not simply say, “Very well.”

He asked, and Stephan answered.

“I no longer believe this is something I can handle.”

Ferda questioned him.

“What is it that you believe you can handle?”

“The work within my ability… and the things already in my possession.”

“What I expect from you has not changed. Everything remains exactly as it was.”

“…”

“The thing that changed was your resolve.”

Stephan could not answer.

Ferda leaned forward.

“If your explanation satisfies me, I will terminate the contract whenever you wish. So tell me. What exactly happened?”

The words forced their way through Stephan’s lips.

He confessed everything that had happened.

The dinner with his father.

The conflict between the brothers over Halim.

And everything that had followed.

Only then was Ferda able to see the circumstances Stephan had kept hidden from him.

“Merchant became angry with you, and you declared that you would monopolize the rights to Halim?”

“…Yes.”

“And because of that, all the mercenaries who had previously served as your escorts withdrew, and everything began falling apart?”

Considering how the Empire functioned, it was entirely plausible.

As commerce had developed, mercenaries had also begun operating in the form of companies.

The Pascal Mercenary Company, founded by Merchant Pascal, was unquestionably one of the finest in the industry.

It employed more than ten thousand mercenaries directly.

Including the small and midsized companies that worked beneath it as subcontractors, the number exceeded thirty thousand.

A conflict with Merchant Pascal was bound to carry a heavy price.

It was as though every sword and shield in Stephan’s hands had vanished at once.

“Even after filling the vacancies, the replacements proved unreliable, and incidents continued to occur.”

“That is correct…”

When security weakened, the entire system collapsed.

Even the goods meant to be supplied to Ferda first had been stolen.

It was like displaying valuables in an exhibition hall without a single pane of glass.

“And so… the wagons headed for the principality… were attacked as well.”

Now the reason for the delayed delivery had become clear.

“I only learned of it two days ago. The wagons were attacked, and everyone… Sandy, Coben…”

Unable to finish, Stephan covered his face.

That incident had been the final blow that shattered his resolve.

“I cannot do this anymore. I was never the kind of man capable of handling something like this. Wanting the Pascal Trading Company, trying to monopolize magitech… None of those were things I should ever have tried to possess.”

“…”

“So I will give up. Regent, thank you for granting someone as unworthy as me so many opportunities—”

“That monopoly.”

Ferda interrupted before he could finish.

“Was it necessary for us?”

“Th-The monopoly?”

“Yes. Was it necessary to protect our interests?”

Now that things had come to this, Stephan thought about it.

Had it really been… necessary?

He could have shared the profits instead of insisting on monopolizing everything, and it likely would have been enough.

“Think carefully about the reason you had at the time, and then answer me.”

Following Ferda’s words, Stephan recalled what he had felt that day.

Then he answered.

“…Yes.”

“Then you fought to protect what belonged to us.”

“…”

“It was your first time fighting, and the result broke you.”

“That is correct.”

“Are you ashamed that you failed?”

Stephan lowered his head deeply.

“It is humiliating.”

“And so you tried to escape the situation by terminating our contract?”

“I was not trying to escape.”

“That is exactly what you were doing. Instead of facing the pain, you chose compromise.”

“That incident also gave me a chance to reflect on myself.”

Stephan laughed hollowly.

His eyes were unfocused.

“I have no ability, yet I am needlessly greedy. I do not even have the courage to hold on to anything. I am the sort of third-rate fool who only comes to his senses after losing everything.”

Self-loathing and disgust.

Ferda could see how many burdens were crushing Stephan’s bent back.

Because Ferda himself had once experienced the same thing.

“Is that why you could not reach out to me?”

“…Yes.”

Because he feared that doing so would only expose how incompetent he was.

Because he feared revealing his shame and being despised for it.

That fear had grown and grown until it crushed him and forced him to his knees.

“Stephan.”

“Yes, Regent.”

“I asked only one thing of you. Do you remember what it was?”

He knew.

Ferda had stated it so clearly that the words remained engraved in his mind even now.

“You said… that I was to become the head of the Pascal Trading Company.”

“That was the contract we made. What have you done to fulfill it? You supplied us with goods.”

“That is correct.”

“You filled the shortages throughout the entire principality and opened new trade routes. None of that could have been easy. Yet you endured.”

“…”

“All so you could become the head of the Pascal Trading Company.”

Stephan did not answer.

Afraid that the emotion surging inside him might spill out, he pressed his lips together like a mute.

Ferda continued.

“I will say it again. We made a contract.”

“…”

“You supply us with goods, and I make you the head of the Pascal Trading Company.”

Those words had once weighed heavily upon Stephan.

Yet strangely, at this moment, he felt no pressure from them at all.

“If you are willing to fight to become the company’s head, then I will gladly stand on your side.”

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

“So I will ask you one last time.”

Ferda spoke calmly.

“Do you truly wish to abandon everything?”

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

Everything he had come intending to surrender suddenly became visible to him once more.

Stephan was a merchant.

Who could possibly rejoice after losing everything?

He had no desire to experience the happiness of owning nothing.

What he wanted was to use failure as a foothold and leap toward success.

“Kh… ngh…”

Tears streamed down Stephan’s face.

Along with the anguish rising in his throat, he finally drew out the desire he had carried since childhood.

“I want to become… the head of the Pascal Trading Company.”

Stephan pressed his forehead against the marble floor and sobbed.

Unable to say anything more, he simply wept.

Ferda looked down at him and spoke quietly.

“Administrator Isabella.”

Isabella, who had watched the entire exchange, pushed her glasses up her nose.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Summon every noble in the Far Eastern Principality to the Far Eastern Front Council.”

“Understood. What reason should I record for the summons?”

Ferda answered evenly.

“Sabotage against the entire principality.”