Chapter 14
Though I couldn’t make clothes myself, I had seen many meticulously made garments. I had also watched countless times as they were made. Thanks to experiences from both lives, I had developed an eye for clothing.
“42 gold and 22 silver, but I’ll take just 40 gold.”
By the time I came to my senses, one of Hebron’s carriages was filled to the brim with fabrics and tailoring supplies.
40 gold was a heavy burden for the impoverished Barony of Hebron.
‘This is an investment. An investment for Hebron. And for my father.’
It felt strange to be doing something for someone I could call father. The Duke of Breio had never been satisfied with anything I did. None of his other children tried to do anything for him either.
They simply bloomed in their own talents.
‘But my father would be pleased.’
His craftsmanship was exceptional. If I could tell him about the current fashion trends in the capital, he would surely create dresses far more refined than that 2 gold 50 silver dress.
Though this wasn’t planned spending, we had earned more money than expected, so it wasn’t burdensome.
As planned, I purchased a few more supplies.
“I’d like to see some weapons.”
“This way, please.”
After working for over a month to earn money, it took only moments to spend it.
High-quality swords, shields, and spears for the soldiers were especially expensive. Weapons needed perfect balance—sloppy workmanship wouldn’t do.
Unfortunately, Hebron didn’t yet have the technology to produce weapons of this quality.
‘We need skilled people. A technician, an administrative expert, and perhaps a mage for urgent matters.’
If I had received lordship training at House Breio, managing the territory would have been much easier. Sadly, I was the third son—fated to be erased from the Breio family register.
Still, by a stroke of luck, my past self had been addicted to reading. I couldn’t sleep without reading something, and I had pored over the textbooks used for noble training.
In my mind was a list. In the past, I had taken interest in those cast out by House Breio. I would sometimes imagine gathering them to seize control of House Breio.
“I’d like to hire some workers. Can you help with that?”
“I’ll speak to the guildmaster.”
“Also, tell him I want to buy slaves.”
“We don’t have any ready at the moment.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be needing quite a few. This will be a longer conversation—tell your master to come see me.”
“Yes, young master.”
Slave trade was legal in the Kingdom of Xenon. The crown wouldn’t ban such a profitable, tax-generating industry.
Most were descendants of other races defeated long ago in war with Xenon. Some were families of nobles convicted of treason. Foreign slaves existed too, though rarely—war prisoners were often ransomed back for high prices.
‘For now, slave soldiers are the best option. After a few months of training, they’ll match regular troops. If I’m harsh enough, I could even forge them into a slave knight order in no time.’
The fastest way to increase Hebron’s military power was hiring a mercenary company. They were cheaper than slaves and ready for battle.
‘But mercenaries can’t be trusted. Sooner or later, they’ll leave Hebron behind.’
In the long run, slaves were more reliable. They couldn’t harm their masters, and were bound to absolute obedience through magical contracts. Though they might seem like a bad investment, trained properly, they could become ideal soldiers.
‘If I combine Ascendant Swordsmanship, aura cultivation techniques, and slave soldiers with no fear of death, I might just be able to take on a viscount’s knight order.’
Before long, the guildmaster returned to me.
His face had completely changed—he now looked like a man who had caught the scent of money.
“We can certainly procure workers for you. We have several skilled laborers under contract with our company.”
“I’ll hire twenty for a six-month term.”
“That will be 2 gold per head, 40 gold upfront.”
Without the Serpens Trading Company’s backing, long-term hiring of 20 workers would have been impossible.
Since the goblin extermination wasn’t officially declared, no sane worker would willingly come to Hebron.
“Do you have any preferences regarding the slaves?”
“Around 20 gold each, aged 15 to 20 by human standards. Gender and race don’t matter. Just no sick or lazy ones. I want fifty.”
Twenty gold was the price of a single horse. With fifty horses, Hebron’s militia could be turned into a cavalry unit.
Of course, warhorses capable of carrying armored knights cost over 50 gold.
“Slaves in that range are just average. Will that be acceptable?”
Gifted slaves sold for much higher.
At least 50 gold, sometimes over 100 for those with standout traits.
“Ordinary slaves with no special talents—that’s exactly what I want.”
“One thousand gold, then. If you pay a hundred gold in advance, I’ll bring one hundred slaves to Hebron. You can choose half from them.”
The Serpens guildmaster’s eyes gleamed. It was a chance to offload existing slave stock and secure a thousand gold coins in one stroke.
“I’ll pay with something other than coin.”
“Pardon?”
Disappointment flashed across his face. He looked like a man who knew the old saying: when dealing with poor lords, accept only cash. But the master quickly composed himself and looked at me again.
I leaned in and whispered to him.
“An ancient magic circle that can determine talent for magic. It doesn’t even require a magic stone.”
Gulp.
The Serpens Guildmaster swallowed dryly. A wrinkle formed between his brows—he almost looked annoyed.
“…..I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
The Serpens guildmaster was in his late forties. Over his lifetime, he must have encountered a wealth of information—but not this. Not about an ancient magic circle.
That was only natural. Even among the mages of the Mage Tower, only a handful of archmages had shown any interest in ancient magic circles. And of those, only one—the Tower Master—had ever actually activated this particular circle. To him, it had held little value.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if a magic circle no one’s ever heard of actually existed?”
“Do you have it, young master? This ancient magic circle?”
The guildmaster looked at me with narrowed eyes.
“Prepare one 100 slaves and bring them to Hebron. I’ll choose 50 from them. If I like them, I might take all 100.”
“If the magic circle you speak of turns out to be fiction, you’ll owe a penalty fee.”
I took 200 gold from the money he’d given me and handed it over.
“An advance. If I’m proven a liar, you may keep the gold—and take back all the slaves. But if what I’ve said turns out to be true, you’ll return the money.”
From the guildmaster’s point of view, this was a no-risk deal.
If the magic circle I spoke of truly existed, he stood to earn far more.
“I’ll be in Hebron in ten days.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
* * *
As expected of a lord’s castle in a commercially prosperous domain, Baron Nurha’s manor was lavishly decorated.
Purple carpets—apparently the latest fashion in the capital—were spread throughout, but the painted wooden floors clashed awkwardly with them.
“It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Louis de Hebron.”
“I am Baron Nurha. It seems you don’t recognize me. Your father and I go way back.”
The baron addressed me with an air of superiority. He was in his early fifties—about the average lifespan in the Kingdom of Xenon. Of course, nobles typically lived well past seventy.
“Regrettably, my father never mentioned you.”
“Is that so?”
Nurha’s eyebrows twitched. His face reddened, perhaps expecting flattery that never came.
He glared at me with mismatched eyes and asked.
“You exterminated a goblin group in the forest?”
“Yes.”
“I hear you’ve become a fire spiritist.”
“Indeed.”
I sipped the tea served by one of his maids. It was unremarkable, with no distinct flavor.
A perfect match for Baron Nurha, I suppose.
“Congratulations. So Hebron has produced a talent at last. My eldest son is attending the Royal Academy, training in swordsmanship. The second will enroll soon.”
“I see. Thank you for the information. If that’s all, I’ll be on my way. If I don’t leave now, I might end up spending the night in the woods.”
I bowed politely but never looked him in the eye. His greasy face was simply too nauseating to stare at.
“Are you aware that any transaction within Nurha territory is subject to taxation?”
“That would apply to merchants, not buyers.”
It was only natural for a lord to impose taxes on commerce. That was their right. However, it was almost unheard of to demand taxes from buyers rather than sellers.
“I made some amendments to the local laws earlier this year. The tax is now thirty percent.”
If I filed a petition with the royal court, I’d surely win the dispute. But Hebron was over two weeks’ journey from the capital—assuming no accidents occurred along the way.
In remote territories, the lord was essentially king. In fact, in the early days of the Kingdom of Xenon, barons didn’t even pay taxes to the crown.
I adjusted my attire—an unconscious habit when I needed to calm the sharp emotions threatening to surface.
The ability to conceal one’s emotions was a priceless asset for a noble.
“In that case, I won’t be paying any tax. I was planning to cancel the transaction anyway. Come to think of it, Hebron is dirt poor.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“How could that be? I’m simply offering someone an opportunity. The soldiers of Hebron who exterminated the goblins are starving. They’ve tasted blood. If they don’t find a new target soon, they’ll go mad with bloodlust. As you know, the uneducated tend to act like that.”
“Are you threatening me!?”
I gave Nurha a slight nod.
He seemed to take it not as a farewell, but as affirmation.
“Farewell, then. Until we meet again—hopefully under better circumstances.”
I turned away from Baron Nurha and opened the door to the reception room. The guards standing outside straightened, tense, their eyes darting nervously.
“Guards!”
Two soldiers responded to Nurha’s command.
They lowered their spears to block my path.
“Inferno.”
A muscular spirit descended in a blaze of hellfire. The flames licked at the walls, as though about to engulf the manor itself. The guards froze, at a complete loss.
I showed mercy to the innocent.
“If you want to live—run.”
But the soldiers neither fled nor attacked.
“Seize him—now!”
Baron Nurha’s order went unfulfilled.
I heard soldiers coming up the stairs. They stopped midway, stunned by the presence of a mid-tier fire spirit.
No one in Nurha’s domain could stand against it.
I gently pushed aside the spears with my fingertips and spoke.
“If you want to succeed… open the gates wide and welcome Hebron.”
* * *
The deal with the Serpens Guildmaster was not canceled.
Rather, it had been postponed.
They had heard of Baron Nurha’s outrageous demands and declared that such territorial laws applied only within Nurha’s domain—not to House Hebron.
The guildmaster’s carriages followed us. The guildmaster had gone to collect the slaves and was expected to arrive in Hebron within ten days.
