Chapter 14: Making Friends

As Komer had expected, after Ramla Reiser stepped forward to explain the situation to the merchants’ guild, they gave in. As the chief financial officer, someone highly trusted by Grand Duke Philip, Ramla Reiser’s position was of great significance to the merchants. A single deal meant little to these immensely wealthy individuals, and moreover, the chief financial officer’s explanation sounded plausible enough. He was helping a friend—even if that friend was a lowly barbarian.

As Ramla Reiser forced out these words through gritted teeth, he could imagine the ashamed and astonished looks from those merchants, which must have been extremely embarrassing. As a nobleman’s son, though without any right to inherit, he was still far above commoners in status. Yet a barbarian, someone even commoners would refuse to associate with, was being called a friend by a nobleman’s son. After all, the word “friend” couldn’t be used carelessly—one might call someone a business partner or a childhood neighbor, but certainly not someone of such a vast difference in status. It was unheard of news, and it would likely spread throughout Sepulus City by tomorrow. As soon as the words left his mouth, Ramla regretted them, but now there was no turning back. He even began to consider the possibility that his wayward son might have a point: if he didn’t find a way to get that man out of Sepulus City, he might indeed bring more and more trouble and shame upon him.

Night Sky Bar. Komer sulkily picked up a large glass of rye beer and downed it in one gulp. A faint crimson hue slowly spread across his pale face. The slightly bitter beer rushed into his mouth, and its refreshing taste seemed to ease some of Komer’s irritability.

In fact, there was nothing really worth worrying about. On the contrary, yesterday Komer had successfully closed the deal for the ore through a merchant from Phoenix City in the West, at a price even slightly higher than he had expected. This made Komer deeply understand why Grand Duke Philip went to such lengths to preserve Sepulus City’s status as a free city, as well as why the merchants in the city were so wealthy.

Aside from keeping a small amount of special ores as material for future crafting, Komer without hesitation handed over all the ores to the merchant from Phoenix. To avoid trouble caused by the merchant’s hostility and dissatisfaction, Komer even had the barbarians transfer the goods to the merchant’s ship that same night. His eagerness almost made the merchant suspect the origin of the goods, but after learning Komer’s true identity, the merchant understood the predicament of being a noble who wasn’t the eldest son and generously gave Komer a large bag of gold shields, also leaving his contact information amicably. Komer remained immersed in this kindness for a long time.

The business was over, and Komer didn’t make any profit from it. He generously gave all his earnings to the barbarian chief and introduced him to a more honest grain merchant to buy food. After all, food couldn’t be gathered in just a short time, and that was all Komer could do. The merchant recognized Komer’s identity and didn’t make things difficult for the barbarians.

The barbarians seemed to have no sense of gratitude. Apart from the leader giving Komer a wooden bead bracelet as they left with the grain cart, there wasn’t even a word of thanks. After repeatedly verifying that it was indeed an ordinary wooden bead bracelet, Komer felt deeply disappointed. He had hoped to use this opportunity to find a way to make money, but the barbarians didn’t seem very interested. Even after Komer tried hard to persuade them after the successful deal, they showed no special interest, clearly unenthusiastic about his proposals, only listening out of gratitude.

Depression, depression—either burst through it or die in it. Who said that? Actually, depression is also a nice feeling. At least it puts one in a state of semi-floating existence, without ideals, without pursuits, without anything—only numbness, a dual numbness from alcohol and the mind. But can one live in depression forever? If it were truly possible to live in such a state without worries, perhaps one would really fall in love with this life of excess and debauchery.

“Boss, why did you suddenly think of coming here?” A gentle voice came from behind. Without guessing, Komer knew it was his old friend Puber.

“Puber, do you remember? This used to be our favorite place. The bustling streets, the wonderful feeling—everything here seems unchanged, but we’ve all changed.” Komer didn’t turn around. His voice was low, filled with deep emotion. “The happy days of the past are gone forever. Where should we go from here?”
Puber remained silent. Ever since Komer returned from exile, Puber had noticed that his once bold and unrestrained leader seemed to have changed—becoming more sentimental and gloomy. But upon closer observation, he realized that the wild and unrestrained spirit still flowed within his leader, just hidden better now.
“Boss, are you worried about what to do after our coming-of-age ceremony?” After a long while, Puber asked weakly.
“Not exactly. It’s just that seeing this old scene reminds me of the past and makes me sad. By the way, has your family talked to you about your future?” Komer shook his head and asked.
“Sigh, it’s still one of those two options: either give me some money to make me leave or give me a small fief to fend for myself. With our survival skills, it won’t take two days before we end up like those lunatics over there.” Puber’s voice was soft, but his hand pointed to the streets of the slums outside the bar, where a few idle guys were wandering around. “Weren’t those guys the same as us before? But in just a few years, they became like that. Look at them—maybe that’s what awaits us.”
Puber’s words were exaggerated, but Komer couldn’t deny there was some truth to them. People like them, used to a luxurious life where everything was provided for them, would likely go crazy if forced to adapt to a life of constant struggle. He might be okay, but Puber and Ilot would probably find it even harder to endure. Yet those were the only two options left. If they really gave him a fief, could a small village in some remote area sustain him? Thinking of this, Komer grew anxious again.
“Puber, didn’t you study in Phoenix for a few years? You could at least find a job in some department in the city, just to make ends meet. Ilot can also continue his career as a soldier. It seems his family is a bit better to him.” Komer handed Puber a large glass of beer as well, his eyes wandering toward a plump prostitute flirting with the waiter across from them.

“Hmph, it’s because of his mother. After all, she’s the legitimate wife, unlike us. But I think his good days are coming to an end. Once he reaches adulthood, I doubt his mother can help him much—maybe he can only trick her into giving him some of her private money from time to time.”
“With the world being so big, isn’t there any way for us to make a living?” Ko Mo tried to cheer himself up. Perhaps it was the lewd behavior of the prostitute across from him that stimulated him; he felt an inexplicable passion coursing through his body, eager to find a place to vent it. But over three years of exile had made him much more mature. He didn’t want to make foolish mistakes in certain areas, so he forced himself to suppress the desires spreading within him, drinking beer after beer to ease them.
“There are plenty of ways to make a living, but it’s not easy to lead a life as leisurely as we have now,” Pu Bo analyzed calmly. “Especially since we have a terrible reputation in Sepulus City. A few days ago, you even offended the people from the guild. Although they didn’t hold it against you because of your father’s name, things won’t be so favorable for you in the future. By the way, boss, why did you give all our earnings to those barbarians? Weren’t you planning to profit from it?”
“Don’t focus on petty gains. Think long-term. Maybe they’ll bring us more benefits in the future.” Ko Mo was already regretting his generosity. Who knew why he had been so generous back then? Now that he was about to leave home, he had no savings at all. No wonder his two friends couldn’t understand. But at this point, Ko Mo could only grit his teeth and defend his chivalrous actions.
“Petty gains?” Even the usually calm Pu Bo couldn’t help but exclaim in outrage. “Boss, you make it sound so easy. Neither of us is rich. Even if we don’t give them all the money and run away, we should at least get a large share. We’ve taken such a big risk, and everyone knows the consequences of going against the guild. Isn’t it fair to get a share? But you just waved your hand, and at least thirty thousand gold shields were gone.”
“Enough. It’s already happened. Regretting it won’t help. We didn’t come here to argue about this, did we?” Ko Mo knew he had some faults. He had agreed to use this opportunity to make some money to prepare for difficult times ahead, but his impulsive decision ruined everything.

Puber became furious at the thought of it, but it was Komer who came up with the idea in the first place; he and Ilot had merely followed suit. It wouldn’t be right to press them too hard, but seeing such a large sum of money slip through their fingers was truly hard to accept. After taking a few deep breaths, Puber fell silent. Komer also felt that this went against the original intention of the three of them. Ilot had always been careless and didn’t place much value on money. Puber, on the other hand, was always thrifty and considered the most financially savvy among the trio. Naturally, he found it hard to accept giving up such a large income for nothing—it was understandable.
“Puber, I was a bit rash about this. It’s already over; could you please stop dwelling on it?”
Seeing Komer’s tone soften, Puber finally let out a snort through his nose, indicating he had forgiven him.