Chapter Seventeen: Enemies for Life

A horse-drawn carriage silently set out into the night from Ugru and headed north at full speed. Aside from Komer, the passengers were Kafli and Fran. It was Kafli’s carriage—its construction not particularly exquisite, but its style simple and clean. A small movable skylight was located in the middle of the oak carriage, allowing sunlight to stream in on sunny days, while the wind blowing through the window brushed against the faces of those inside.

They had already passed the Leon region. Although Komer wasn’t afraid of attacks from the Leon gang, he also didn’t want to incur such trouble. He simply wanted to reach Jazair safely first, use Kafli’s connections to get to know the officials in charge of internal affairs in the kingdom, and establish relationships. Though no country on the continent prohibited population movement—migration was mostly decided by the lords of various territories—Komer considered that if too many people were brought in, especially refugees whom the kingdom had long refused to accept, it would inevitably lead to skepticism from all sides. So he decided to focus on settling matters within the kingdom first.

When passing through Bruce, Kafli went to visit Bruce’s commander, Bamo Li. It seemed Kafli was quite familiar with Bamo Li as well. As a merchant, figures like Bamo Li, who controlled key checkpoints, were always targets for merchants seeking to bribe them for goodwill.

Until they left Bruce, Komer’s gaze remained thoughtful. The carriage set off again toward the Greenland Forest. This time, Komer and his companions were traveling with a merchant caravan that hired mercenaries.

“Lord Baron, it seems you also have some connections with Lord Bamo Li. Why not go meet him with me?” Kafli said, chewing on the fruit of a plant called an olive fruit. It was the fruit of a shrub that produced a sweet and fresh scent, was helpful for protecting teeth, and was said to help relieve stress. Many merchants and travelers liked to chew on these small fruits, and Kafli was no exception.

“Oh, I do know Mr. Barmoli, but I’m not very familiar with him. We can talk again if there’s a chance in the future.” Comer was still wondering if the attack he suffered in Leon last time might be related to this Barmoli—his refusal to escort him and his unusual interest in his hometown—all these actions seemed connected to someone, but Comer couldn’t be sure. After all, he was now a lord with a title; such attempts to assassinate nobles would be hard for even the king to cover up if discovered. Barmoli could live comfortably in Bruce, so he wasn’t a fool. He would unlikely take such risks directly, so using bandits to carry out attacks was the best option.

“Actually, the prosperity of Bruce is also greatly thanks to Lord Barmoli. The previous fortress commanders weren’t as flexible; they wouldn’t allow merchants to approach the fortress easily, and merchants faced many difficulties crossing over. There were strict time limits for unloading goods at the docks and for ships coming and going, and no trade was allowed outside the fortress. Those who engaged in secret trade outside the fortress were severely punished. Bruce never really thrived until Lord Barmoli arrived and changed these rules. He not only turned the wasteland around the fortress into a trading area but also relaxed the inspections for crossing over and entering the docks. Coupled with the growing prosperity of the Leon region, this spurred the development of Bruce, leading to its current prosperity.” Kafli seemed to have a high opinion of Barmoli.

“Mr. Kafli, I don’t quite agree with you. The prosperity of Bruce should be attributed to the development of Leon and the hard work of merchants. Without the coal and iron mines in Leon and their development, Bruce’s docks couldn’t have grown, and miners wouldn’t have flocked here. The development of Leon’s mines created a demand for slaves and various necessities such as cloth, food, oil, salt, etc. Merchants came driven by market needs, creating a cycle. As these industries grew more prosperous, they in turn promoted further development of the mines in Leon. Moreover, due to Leon’s poor security situation, it never became a central city, so all commercial and political centers gradually moved to Bruce. Look at the mansions around here—aren’t many of them owned by those mine owners?” Comer shook his head in disagreement and explained his views under Kafli’s puzzled gaze, convincing Kafli to nod in agreement.

“Of course, Bamo Li also deserves credit for adapting to this trend, unlike those previous defenders who stubbornly resisted. This allowed Bruce to develop more smoothly, which is why he has been able to hold this position for so long,” Komer said with a calm smile. “But Bruce also has his own limitations. It doesn’t produce anything on its own; it’s surrounded by forests and is essentially a commercial town that developed through trade. It’s easily affected by external factors such as wars or blocked trade routes.”

Komer’s words made Kafli see him in a new light once again. He never expected that a pampered nobleman, known as a scoundrel in Cyprus, could have such profound and incisive insights into things—each point being a sharp and accurate observation. There was nothing of the arrogant and ignorant behavior he associated with the noble children of Jazair and Cyprus, which only strengthened his confidence in cooperating with him.

After crossing the Greenland Forest and entering the Bosen Plain, the carriage parted ways from the caravan. The caravan would head to Cyprus, while Komer and his group would go straight to the kingdom’s capital, Jazair. Watching the caravan disappear, the observant Kafli politely asked, “Lord Baron, do you really not plan to visit Cyprus?”

“What’s the point of going back? Although I’m nominally appointed by Grand Duke Philip, according to the ‘Utrecht Edict’ issued by the kingdom twenty years ago, I am already an independent lord. The Caucasus is also an independent territory. All lords appointed by their original lords are first vassals of His Majesty the King, and only then vassals of their original lords. In other words, I must first obey His Majesty the King before considering matters related to Grand Duke Philip,” Komer replied coldly.

“But Grand Duke Philip is still your nominal lord. You must pay him a considerable amount of money or goods every year. If you anger him, he might cause you trouble in many ways,” Kafka said, unconsciously planning things for Komer.

“Mr. Kafli, I know you are also very familiar with Cyprus, and I’m sure you understand how I was exiled to the Caucasus. After three years in exile, they sent me from Cyprus to the Caucasus, where I had to escape assassins and bandit attacks time and again. Do you really think a single visit to Cyprus could change my poor relationship with the Grand Duke? No, no—that’s absurd. I tell you, there is no possibility of reconciliation between me and Grand Duke Philip. The reason he didn’t kill me in Cyprus was probably either out of fear that my father might, in a fit of madness, reveal his shameful deeds, or to avoid rumors that could harm his daughter’s reputation. After all, some people in Cyprus’s upper society were aware of my affair with Princess Tracy. If nothing happened and no one spoke of it, it might be fine, but once I died, things would be different. The best solution was to let me die in some remote place where no one could say anything—like the Greenland Forest, Leon, or the Caucasus.”

“It’s a pity that none of these cowardly folks have ever been to the Caucasus over the years. They think it’s a barren, cursed land with no life at all. I, Komer, might suffer the same fate as my predecessors, but I’ll disappoint them.” Komer’s tone grew increasingly cold as he spoke.