Round 23: Trade

“What? That won’t work, absolutely not, Miss Moriel!” Frees shook his fat head like a rattle, his cheeks trembling: “I swear by the gods! If you give the ship to Simon, he’ll never, ever return! I’m sure I’ll never see that scoundrel again in my lifetime!”
Moriel and Forty-Seven left the Red Robe Mage’s business base early in the morning, coincidentally avoiding Frees’ carriage. Hearing that Frees was going to deal with Simon and the Hermit Crab, Moriel decided to follow and see what was going on. After all, those sailors were indeed a problem—they had survived the adventures in the Stormy Ocean alongside Moriel and Forty-Seven. If left free to wander around Deep Current City, their unrestrained boasting could cause unnecessary trouble for Moriel—even though the female mage had no intention of operating secretly.
In fact, Frees’ decision to hold the sailors captive in order to extract as much profit as possible from Simon to make up for his past losses had actually helped her out.
“Mr. Frees, what good will it do you even if you seize the ship?” Moriel said, looking at the oddly shaped Hermit Crab anchored by the dock. “It doesn’t seem suitable for carrying goods, nor as a passenger ship… So why not rent it out to Captain Simon temporarily, letting him and the sailors operate it in their own way? That way, you might be able to recover more of the debt Simon owes you.”
“That’s true, but…” Frees grumbled, rubbing his fat hands. “I can never trust that guy, Simon! The safest way to deal with him is to sell him to the Red Robe Mage as a slave! At least that way I can get some of my money back…”
“What are you talking about?” Forty-Seven complained. “Didn’t you hear what Twenty-Six said just now? This ship is mine. You can’t decide what to do with it without asking me!”
“Hey, are you serious?” Chloe asked in disbelief. “What do you want with this junk?”
“It’s my ship,” Forty-Seven declared firmly. “I’m entrusting its operation to Frees. If we make a profit, it’s mine; if we lose, it’s his. You have no objections, right, Frees?… Good. As for you, Little Beard, I’ll let you be the captain of this ship for now. I don’t care how much profit you get from each voyage—you must give it to Frees to repay his debt. If you try to run away with my ship…”
Forty-Seven smiled at Simon.
“You can try. Maybe I won’t be able to find you.”

On the return carriage, Freth looked grim. Simon practically scurried away, likely afraid of encountering more creditors. The sailors discussed it and had no choice but to set sail with their former captain; otherwise, if they let Simon and the ship out of sight, who knew how many years it would take to see him again. The sea elf Ror also left because she wasn’t used to human cities, but Twenty-Six stayed—this slave sailor was Simon’s legally owned property, and now he naturally had to change hands. Yet Twenty-Six was quite happy; it didn’t matter who he worked for. And returning to his hometown was also a joyous thing for him.

“Don’t be so depressed, Mr. Merchant!” Seeing Freth pouting and silent, Chloé finally vented her frustration from the previous night. She deliberately took Moriel’s hand, smiling as she said, “Isn’t this great? With forty-seven powerful armored warriors like these as your partners, I think you won’t have to worry about caravans being harassed by bandits or orcs anymore!”

“Sigh…” Freth leaned back on the cushions and sighed. “I just can’t stand the fact that that bastard Simon got away with punishment so easily. Even all the half-orc thieves in the city combined aren’t as despicable as him! I really should consider giving up that money and just sending him to the gallows…”

Moriel calmly pulled her hand back and tidied her hair. “Joking, Mr. Freth. You’re an excellent merchant, not a cruel lord who takes pleasure in torturing his people. As long as business is profitable, one should set aside irrational personal emotions… By the way, speaking of business, there’s something else I’d like to discuss with you.”

“No, no.” After Moriel made her request, Freth firmly refused the rest of the way: “That’s not possible, Miss Moriel. I’m very sorry, but I can’t help you with that… Oh, it’s not that I have any prejudice against your friend’s business. In fact, among the nobles and rich people I know, many often take magical drugs to stay alert. But you have to understand that if I introduce your friend to them, it would mean acting as an intermediary from a business perspective… The holy warriors of the Dawn Knight Order will never forgive me if they find out! My caravans won’t be able to travel in the North anymore, and all the good factions in Deepstream City will avoid me… Ah, we’re home. Would you like to come in and sit? Or head back to the red-robed mage’s business base now?… Alright, Mann, drive personally and take Miss Moriel there. Miss Moriel, Miss Chloé, I must take my leave. Goodbye…”

“I also don’t like those stubborn holy warriors. They’re like meat that’s been in the oven too long—their minds are all mushy…” Chloé shrugged. “But it’s undeniable that as long as someone isn’t truly evil, they always feel awe toward the holy warriors. Even if one has to be cautious all day long with those guys watching one’s back, it’s still better than having lawless villains break into your home and oppress you.”

“Yes.” Moriel seemed somewhat disinterested. “Justice, protection… Who doesn’t want someone to lend a helping hand without expecting anything in return when in trouble? Hey, are you going to the commercial outpost too?”
“Oh, I’m hitchhiking and just going around a bit,” Chloe said, stretching and lifting the curtain of the carriage window slightly to enjoy the street view. “I’ll find an interesting tavern to have a few drinks tonight. I can’t stand that fat guy’s nagging anymore…”
Suddenly, Chloe tapped on the front wall of the carriage. Mann outside immediately pulled the carriage over to the side. His driving skills were excellent—so smooth that there wasn’t even a hint of vibration.
“I’ll get off here,” Chloe said, opening the door and jumping out. “See you tomorrow!”
Moriel watched as Chloe’s figure disappeared into the crowd, feeling an indescribable strangeness. It had little to do with the female swordsman; rather, it was her inexplicable intuition—as if some sound beyond human hearing suddenly rang out, and a faint ripple passed through the air around the carriage in an instant.
Was it an illusion? Moriel rubbed her brows. Due to the damned task assigned to her by Forty-Seven, she had spent quite some time pondering after saying goodbye to Kani yesterday, but found almost nothing. Even when trying to prepare a spell, she failed once. How easy could it be to reach the vast sea of primal magic through the magic network?
She seemed to have rushed things a bit.
But when Moriel regained her senses, she noticed that Forty-Seven also seemed to be staring at something—through the other window.
“What’s wrong?” Moriel asked curiously.
Forty-Seven turned away, his eyes flashing red like an explosion.
“Nothing… Probably just an illusion.”
After last night’s confrontation, the atmosphere inside the Red Robe Mage’s commercial outpost had become much more tense. The number of guards at the main entrance doubled, and the watchtowers were fully manned. Adventurers who thought they were strong or smart enough to trade with the Red Robe Mage were politely but firmly asked to leave their weapons behind. As compensation, the prices of magical items in the outpost were slightly reduced, with some level-0 magic scrolls even sold at half their original price, i.e., at cost.
Moriel stayed in her room all day, studying and analyzing the golem created by the Red Robe Mage. To be honest, the Red Robe Mage’s conditions were truly remarkable—he had an entire floor dedicated to spell laboratories with complete facilities, and this was merely an empty residence within the commercial outpost for passing Red Robe Mages to work and rest in.
The Red Robe Mage had made numerous improvements to this golem, crafted using Agus’s construction techniques, and Moriel was studying the techniques of the master mage who made these changes. She temporarily gave up the idea of activating the golem. If she really wanted to do so, it should be Forty-Seven lying on the experimental table now—though even if Forty-Seven were that obedient, Moriel would still need to be willing to devote herself wholeheartedly to the Red Robe Mage’s cause.

Jiali appeared again during dinner. Kani did not show up; clearly, their relationship had deteriorated to a serious extent. It wasn’t surprising—given the current situation, Kani’s drug trade had caused Jiali quite a lot of trouble. But to Moriel’s surprise, Jiali didn’t ask anything about Moriel and Kani at all, not even mentioning it—as if he knew nothing about it.

“Moriel! Moriel!” Early the next morning, Kani came knocking on Moriel’s door.

“I’ve already talked to the people from the Shirek Church,” she said, sitting down in a chair. Due to her small stature, only her head was above the table, making it difficult even to reach for a glass of juice. “Tonight, at the Cat’s Paw Tavern in the Dock District.”

She looked at Moriel, who was calmly eating his breakfast, frowning slightly. Although she was about a dozen years older than Moriel—dwarves reach adulthood much later than humans—she almost looked like a little girl from the outside.

“Oh?” Moriel put down his knife and fork. “The Shirek Church members agreed? It’s even smoother than I thought. It seems they have a real demand for magic drugs.”

“Well… Moriel, what exactly do you plan to do? You’re not really going to make a big deal with them, are you? I’ve accepted your suggestion to change our distribution channels. I think we don’t need to get involved with the Shirek Church any further…” Kani paused, suddenly realizing that this female red-robed mage might be even more difficult to deal with than Jiali and the Shirek Church members combined. “Maybe we should cancel this deal. I have a bad feeling about it…”

“My feeling is that this deal will go very smoothly. You should trust me as a prophet mage on this.” Moriel looked straight into Kani’s eyes. “Besides, this deal was already agreed upon with the Shirek Church. As merchants, we can’t go back on our word.”

“Yes,” Kani replied. “It’s strange—although they were disrupted by the Holy Knights the day before yesterday, the Shirek Church still insists on conducting a large-scale deal as soon as possible to meet their needs. There are also reports that the Shirek Church’s activities in Deepwater City have become very rampant lately. Many small street gangs and thief guilds have been taken under their control. It seems they’re planning something big…”

Moriel knew what that “big thing” was. It seemed the Dark Sun Church had also focused its attention on Deepwater City. He needed to act quickly… Even if he couldn’t find Kaylo before the Shirek Church members, he had to cause them some trouble. Though he wasn’t alone, he was still outnumbered. As Forty-Seven said, the fewer Shirek Church members there were, the greater his chances of finding Kaylo.

“No matter what we do… their actions will only end up causing widespread resentment.” Moriel crossed his arms and rested his chin on them. “But it’s not too late to cut ties with them completely after this deal is over. We’re red-robed mages—we should make money whenever we can. The key is the location of the deal… Is the Cat’s Paw Tavern reliable? If the Dawn Knight Order gets involved again, we might lose both our people and our money.”

“There’s no problem with that,” Kani said. “The Cat’s Paw Tavern area is one of the most chaotic places in the docks, with intricate underground passages. Now it’s almost entirely under the control of the Hryek cultists. As soon as the Holy Warriors or city guards show up there, they’ll be surrounded. No matter how skilled they are, by the time they reach the Cat’s Paw Tavern, we’ll have already finished what we need to do.”
“Then let’s do it that way,” Moriel said with a slight smile. “We’ll go together at night.”
Kani glanced at Yoniji beside her.
“Moriel… you’re not going to do something reckless, are you? That’s Hryek Church territory… is he going too?”
Yoniji grinned, revealing his shark-like, ferocious teeth. “Of course I’m going. Otherwise, how would it be a big deal?”
Chloe moved through the crowd like a fish swimming in water, so agile that she didn’t even brush against anyone’s clothes. Eventually, she turned into a quiet alley, where trash was piled up at the corners, flanked by tall stone buildings—rough and sturdy, likely warehouses.
The female swordsman slowed down. Although there wasn’t a soul here, in stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the main streets in the commercial district, Chloe was certain she hadn’t imagined the figure she’d glimpsed in the carriage.
She suddenly stopped and spun around.
A vortex formed in the space between the high walls on either side of the alley, emitting a silver-black light akin to the night sky, distorting the surroundings.
A woman dressed in tattered robes stepped out of the vortex. Aside from her eyes as dark as night, what caught attention most was her hair, standing straight up toward the sky. Whether due to magic or the breeze, her long black hair floated gently in the air like a blazing flame. But if one set aside her strikingly handsome face and thought about it calmly, it seemed more like the result of neglect in grooming.
She was almost as tall as Chloe. With her hair being too long, it was tied in two buns, and a silver short sword was slung across her waist, along with a few small metal bottles, probably healing potions.
The woman scratched her hair and strode toward Chloe, the heels of her high leather shoes making a crisp sound on the stone pavement. “So it’s you. Sneaking around like that… If I accidentally sent you a lightning bolt someday, it wouldn’t be fun.”
Chloe laughed brightly. “I can hardly believe it either. What brought you to Deepflow City? Queen of Storms, Xinbu?”