Chapter 513: Among the People

Kord was a prominent merchant in the Carol region, his family having traded for generations. In his youth, he had ventured out alone, earning a solid reputation in the northern part of the Southern Territory. Sharp-eyed and bold yet cautious, he was the kind of businessman who seized every opportunity without compromising his integrity. His family’s enterprises spanned furs, spices, and potions, and thanks to his wide network of contacts, he had established channels both in the Holy Spirit Plains and the Eastern Territory.

Pal was Kord’s eldest son—barring any unforeseen circumstances, this young man, gifted in commerce, was destined to inherit his father’s business.

Gawain studied the great Carol merchant before him, matching the man to the information stored in his mind. It was his first time meeting Kord in person, but he was well-informed about the merchant’s background. Two things about Kord stood out in particular.

The first was the reorganization of the Carol Commercial Association. After the Southern Territory’s Unification War ended, the Administration Office took over the Carol region. The previously loose alliance of local merchants was restructured under the office’s management. Kord was the first major merchant to sign on, and he actively pushed for the restoration of commercial order in the area, catching the attention of the local governor and securing a place within the Administration Office.

The second event was earlier—after Cecil’s alchemical potions rose to prominence, cheap industrial potions quickly flooded the Southern Territory, impacting nearly every merchant involved in the potion trade. Kord’s family was no exception. While many merchants fled, switched trades, or sought refuge under Count Hosman, Kord made a bold move: without hesitation, he abandoned his family’s finished potion business and shifted to wholesale of herbal raw materials and alchemical ingredients, becoming one of Cecil’s earliest suppliers and potion wholesalers.

A truly exceptional businessman.

“Please, have a seat. No need for formalities,” Gawain said, choosing to receive the father and son in his study. Naturally, he did not adopt an aloof attitude. “Betty—prepare some tea and refreshments, and bring them here.”

The study was furnished with chairs and a table for guests. Kord and Pal calmed their nerves and sat as properly as they could. For merchants of common birth, sitting face-to-face with a noble of this rank was almost unimaginable. Even Kord, with his steely resolve, found it hard to remain completely composed. Yet the great merchant did not lose his basic judgment—he noticed they were in the study, which was a good sign.

The drawing room was the usual place for receiving guests, but the study was more private. What was discussed here often could not be brought out into the drawing room.

Today, there was a big deal on the table.

Gawain observed Kord and Pal’s reactions and smiled faintly. “No need to be nervous. Today’s discussion is in your area of expertise—Patrick recommended you to me. Mr. Kord, as far as I know, your trade routes are extensive.”

“Just trying to make a living,” Kord carefully weighed each word. “Nothing worth mentioning before you.”

“No need for modesty. Merchants are vital to the principality. Mr. Kord, I heard you even have business in the Eastern Territory?”

Kord’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he didn’t know how to answer. Sweat began to bead at the nape of his neck.

The Eastern Territory was at war with the Kingdom’s army… Although the Southern Territory was not involved in the civil war, merchants with broad trade routes had inevitably been affected.

Besides the Southern Territory, Kord’s business had a large market in the Holy Spirit Plains. At the same time, he maintained some dealings with merchants in the Eastern Territory.

Due to changes around the Rock Fortress, trade routes to the Holy Spirit Plains had become somewhat unreliable. To avoid losses, many merchants trading with the Plains sought alternative routes. Kord had strengthened his ties with the East—using the land corridor through the Grant region as a transit point, he had recently sent several large shipments there, mostly potions.

He had not broken any of Cecil’s laws; all taxes were paid, and all goods properly registered. But now the Duke was asking about this… Should he admit it or deny it?

Gawain Cecil was the founding Duke of Ansu. Whom did he support in this civil war? From a legitimacy standpoint, perhaps the Kingdom’s army… But honestly, was either side fully legitimate?

Countless thoughts raced through Kord’s mind, weighing interests and risks. He had to answer. After a brief hesitation of two seconds, he spoke: “…There are indeed some channels, but due to the civil war, they are not very smooth.”

“To me, the East and the Kingdom’s army are the same,” Gawain said calmly. “Just young men fighting.”

Kord’s expression hardened. “But recently, the channels have become much smoother.”

“That’s good,” Gawain nodded with satisfaction. “The principality needs your business.”

Kord controlled his expression well, but his breath caught involuntarily.

A big! Deal!

Bigger than he had imagined!

The great merchant’s face almost glowed. “It would be our family’s highest honor to serve you!”

Gawain nodded again, then said, “Then you should understand the deal…”

Kord listened carefully, not daring to miss a word.

As he had expected—the Duke wanted to do business with the East, to sell potions there.

It was a large, open deal, but it couldn’t be too public. It needed an agent.

Kord and his family would be that agent, carrying out the Duke’s will and managing the flow of gold.

The Duke’s terms were generous—though from now on, the family would no longer keep all the profits from the Eastern potion trade, having to hand over more than half to the principality, this “loss” was negligible compared to the gains ahead.

With the Duke’s backing, how many times would the family’s Eastern potion business grow? Tenfold? Twentyfold?

Even more.

Kord knew what it meant to be an agent of the nobility. As a commoner, he understood that many like him would risk losing most of their wealth just to seize such an opportunity: a path into high society, a chance at noble bloodlines.

An excellent agent could secure a true title for their descendants, and for that possibility, they were willing to pay a heavy price.

Though the Southern nobility now held little real power, reduced to honorary titles and limited hereditary privileges, the Duke did not require a huge sacrifice. Kord could even profit greatly—there was no better deal in the world.

After the Duke explained most of the details, he looked Kord in the eye. “So, do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Grace, I fully understand,” Kord quickly nodded. Then, tugging at his collar to steady himself, he cautiously asked, “But I don’t understand… why did you choose me specifically?”

“You’re capable and smart,” Gawain leaned back in his chair. “Besides, I didn’t exactly choose you—Patrick recommended twelve candidates, and I simply picked you from the list.”

Kord blinked, a hint of realization crossing his face. Then he stood and bowed deeply. “I understand—Kord Bald, on behalf of my family, swears to be loyal and never betray this oath to you.”

“You will,” Gawain smiled and nodded, pulling out a stack of documents. “Let’s sign the agreement. Patrick will contact you to prepare for your upcoming business. As for how to conduct business in the East… you won’t need anyone’s help.”

Kord took the documents solemnly and read them carefully from top to bottom. The Duke’s contract was more thorough and professional than he had imagined—more so than many contracts between merchants. He found no grounds for objection.

He signed his name. As the final stroke landed, he exhaled deeply.

Pal, the young man, watched quietly, remembering his father’s advice: speak little in such moments, and miss no word.

Once the contract was sealed, Kord’s heart finally settled. He looked at Gawain cautiously, a trace of hesitation on his face.

Gawain was about to return to his work but noticed the merchant’s reaction and asked, “Mr. Kord, any questions?”

“Your Grace—I have a rather bold question… or perhaps a few. I hope you won’t take offense,” Kord chose his words even more carefully. After receiving permission, he continued, “When we arrived, we saw the new vehicles displayed in the square… those incredible magical carriages left a strong impression. May I ask—are they sold to commoners? If so, what are the conditions for purchase?”

Seeing the merchant’s eager expression, Gawain couldn’t help but smile. “Of course they’re for sale. Like mining machines, magical carriages can be bought and sold. Initially, they’ll be expensive, just like the earliest mining machinery. But for wealthy merchants like you who need them, the price is bearable. Also, since this is a brand-new technology, the factory’s production line is still being refined, and some management regulations haven’t been finalized. You’ll probably have to wait a while before you can buy one. As for conditions… first, you must undergo training to learn how to operate it. Second, you must comply with the traffic laws designed for them. These vehicles are faster and more powerful than horse-drawn carriages, so safety is paramount.”

“Oh, I completely understand,” Kord nodded repeatedly. “I’ve seen mining machines and can imagine how powerful a magic-engine vehicle would be. If one of those ran loose on the road, it wouldn’t be good.”

Gawain was pleased to see someone so quick to recognize the potential of a new invention and eager to engage with it. He sensed Kord had more to say and encouraged him, “If there’s anything else, feel free to ask—I’m not a harsh man, and you needn’t be nervous.”

“Thank you for your understanding. I have another question,” Kord said, gathering his thoughts. “Regarding the magical network broadcast… The Carol region hasn’t yet installed broadcast devices, but I know that further north in Rock City and further south in the Kond region, they have them…”

Gawain listened but sighed quietly to himself.

The merchant was right—the coverage of the magical network broadcast was still quite limited compared to newspapers. This was because the production capacity of the magical network terminals constrained their deployment. The limited number of terminals meant Gawain had to prioritize installing them in essential locations. Rock City was a frontline fortress, Kond was an industrial new city—both naturally included. As for Carol… development would have to wait.

“The magical network terminals are limited, so Carol hasn’t been covered yet. But rest assured, Cecil will not abandon any land or its people. Next, we will begin installing terminals in secondary towns, including Carol.”

Hearing Gawain’s explanation, Kord first expressed gratitude, then said, “If the Carol Commercial Association is willing to provide funding—if we pay to purchase the machines, build relay towers, and maintain them—could we get priority installation? I have just one small request…”

Gawain was momentarily taken aback, then regarded him thoughtfully. “What is your request?”

Kede cleared his throat and began to explain his idea. “On the way here, I did a lot of digging about the magical network broadcasts. I thought of something… like a ‘program’ on the network, but different in content. I want to use it to introduce the specialties of the Carol region, to showcase the projects our Commercial Association is working on…”

Gawain’s face remained impassive, but inside he was stunned. As he listened to Kede, his gaze involuntarily drifted to the half-finished proposal lying on the table.

Kede, meanwhile, had found his rhythm. His nervousness faded, and his words flowed more smoothly. “People say Carol has no specialties, but we actually have a fine cheese there. Paired with the local ochre-yellow wine, it’s an exquisite treat—though hardly any outsiders know about it, and it’s tough to sell. When I heard I was coming to Cecil City, a few friends pulled me aside to discuss. They wanted to rent a small space in the newspaper to introduce this specialty, but no one really knew how to go about it. We studied all the laws published by the Administration Office and found no rules forbidding it, so I decided to take a chance here. But after seeing the magical network broadcasts, I think they’re even better than newspapers…”

Gawain couldn’t help but interrupt. “You want to put ads in the newspaper?”

“Ads?” Kede blinked, unfamiliar with the term. But Gawain had coined it by combining the roots for ‘wide dissemination’ and ‘notification,’ so after a moment’s thought, Kede caught on. “Ah, so you’ve already thought of this?”

“No, that’s your invention,” Gawain said, pinching the bridge of his nose and waving a hand. “Go on, Mr. Kede. Tell me everything—every idea you have, all of it.”

“Yes. I think magical network broadcasts are better. See, they leave a stronger impression, can show moving images of the products, and spread information much faster than newspapers. But if we could also place ads in newspapers, that would be even better, since newspapers reach a wider audience…”

Encouraged by Gawain’s interest, Kede grew more excited, speaking so enthusiastically that Pal, standing nearby, was left speechless. It had been years since he’d seen his father this animated.

“We even considered buying a printing press ourselves to produce promotional materials, but the Administration Office told us that would be illegal…

“There are many merchants in Carol buying machines to build textile and brick factories. The Administration Office approved our requests, but it’s hard to find workers, and the products don’t sell well… We strictly follow the Administration’s production requirements, but it’s just too difficult to get the word out…”

Gawain listened carefully to the merchant’s account. When Kede finally finished, he exhaled softly.

“Your Grace,” Kede suddenly seemed to realize he’d been a bit bold, his face clouding with unease, “these are just some reckless ideas. You could—”

“They’re interesting,” Gawain cut him off, “and valuable.”

Kede’s face lit up with joy. “So… you agree?”

“I think it’s feasible—of course, it requires careful planning and a system of regulations,” Gawain nodded. “Can you imagine what would happen if merchants were allowed to place their own ads in newspapers and broadcasts?”

Kede furrowed his brow, thinking aloud. “Products would sell more easily, and many people would learn about distant specialties…”

He hesitated briefly, then continued, “…But some might exaggerate or even spread completely false information… If things get out of hand, people might stop trusting newspapers and broadcasts altogether…”

Gawain nodded inwardly—this was a smart man, a capable businessman.

Before advertising had even truly come into being, Kede was already aware of the dangers of false ads—though it seemed he had no intention of exploiting them.

“As you said, Mr. Kede, this new thing must be handled with care,” Gawain said. “Before we open it up, we need strict rules to prevent fraud and protect the audience. We must establish a review system and penalties. At the same time, we need oversight of the reviewers themselves, to prevent abuse of power and turning review privileges into a profit-making tool…”

The idea of strict regulations reminded Kede of the soldiers at the outpost who didn’t take a single copper coin.

Though he didn’t know exactly what methods the Duke used to keep the soldiers in line, it was clear that rigorous rules and discipline played a key role.

The merchant bowed his head respectfully before Gawain. “Governing a land is far more complicated than I imagined. I took too many things for granted.”

“It is complicated,” Gawain agreed, “but I’m grateful this land has hardworking, thoughtful people like you. Every question you raise helps this place move forward.” He stood, left his desk, and approached Kede, extending his hand. “Mr. Kede, thank you for your contributions to Cecil. I will keep your needs in mind. Please go home and wait for good news.”

The merchant left, his son in tow, both cautious but hopeful. Gawain stood quietly in his study for a moment, then returned to his desk.

He looked over the draft proposal, the half-finished clauses, and after a moment’s thought, swept his hand over the page.

The unfinished sheet turned to ash in an instant.

Reaching for a blank sheet nearby to start anew, he was interrupted by a familiar, teasing voice from the empty windowsill: “Oh no—wasted effort.”

Without turning, Gawain tossed a crumpled paper toward the voice. Outside came a startled shout: “Oh my!”

He picked up his pen again and pulled out a special notebook from under the desk. Opening it, he wrote a few lines in Chinese:

“Year 736 of Ansu, Month of Mist, Day 8. A new lesson.

The people don’t need you to teach them.

Don’t make this mistake again.”

(Recommended reading: Dungeon Player—a delightfully silly (scratch that) entertaining story about dungeon production and construction. Perfect if you’re out of books.)

(End of chapter)