Chapter 8

A moment of silence passed.

Yuma gazed calmly at Puang, while Puang repeatedly wiped his forehead, clearly troubled.

From the moment he had ordered his guards to bring Yuma in, he had already lost control of the negotiation.

“Damn... I’ve been completely caught in this.”

“Let’s build the trading firm together. First, let’s take care of my charges. Go find Haiwan Woods—he’ll probably need some gambling money.”

“Gambling, you say?”

“Yes. He’s been burning through gold at the gambling den run by House Fobian. While you’re at it, bribe the house manager there too. Make sure Sir Haiwan wins big.”

The situation kept getting more absurd, and Puang couldn’t help but press his palm against his forehead.

“Would it be too much trouble for my guards to kill you right now, Sir Yuma?”

“Far too much trouble. But let me just say this—I actually like you, Mr. Puang. Let’s suffer together.”

House Fobian, one of the Three Great Houses of Kail and home to the Empire’s most prestigious Court Mages, was renowned not only for magic, but also for its schemes.

Haiwan Woods had once been an honorable Imperial Knight—but now, he was little more than a gambling-addicted old man.

Despite his unnecessary good health, the aging Swordmaster continued to drain the granary of House Woods, refusing to die or retire.

Eventually, he would even sell his treasured sword to gamble—and become the infamous subject of a disgraceful saying.

From the Woods family’s perspective, they could never dare confront the high-ranking nobles of House Fobian.

“Heh…”

“That bitter laugh of yours will soon turn into a genuine one. Just wait.”

Yuma popped a slice of fruit into his mouth and began to chew leisurely.

Though Puang felt like he had stepped into a pit whose depths he couldn’t even see, he was certain of one thing: the boy before him wasn’t just after money.

He wanted something much bigger—and Puang could feel it.

Still, if money came with it, there was nothing to lose. More importantly, he had no choice.

The unexpected visit of a mere commoner boy was now dictating the fate of the entire Puang Trading Firm.

Everything progressed swiftly.

Winning over Haiwan Woods turned out to be laughably easy.

Puang approached him with a gift: a ceremonial sword and armor needlessly adorned with jewels.

He delivered them with the most clichéd line a merchant could muster:

“A humble offering to an honorable knight who once served the Empire so faithfully.”

“Cut the nonsense. What do you want?”

“May I ask if there have been any reports recently in the guards or the Knight Order regarding an attempted murder of a knight named Mero by a commoner?”

“Ah, Mero. Ugh, just hearing his name makes me nauseous. I heard that worthless trash got beaten up by a commoner recently and whined about it.”

“The culprit is actually my nephew. I couldn’t take care of him—thought he died in the war. But Baron Louis told me what happened… that Sir Mero harassed a young girl, and Yuma… well, it was an unfortunate incident.”

“No need to say more. I’ll bring it up at the next Elder Council meeting. Would be nice to see you again soon. I tend to switch out my armor and weapons often, you know.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Bribing the manager of House Fobian’s gambling den was even easier.

For three gold coins, the man ensured that Sir Haiwan won all day long. To him, it was just a matter of timing—it was Haiwan’s turn to win anyway.

“Buying off the gambling den manager at House Fobian wasn’t just about securing a win. It was to announce our presence. Nobles are always waiting for merchants to slip them money through the back door.”

“That much, I know all too well, but…”

“Then just wait a little. Soon, they’ll get impatient and reach out first. The one who should manage our fields is Kahel Fobian—he’s perfect for it.”

“Even if I throw some gold around, I doubt House Fobian would go out of their way for someone like me…”

“Not some gold—a lot of it. Enough to make them unable to ignore you. More importantly, we need Kahel Fobian.”

Just as Yuma had predicted, it didn’t take long for Puang to receive an invitation to a banquet hosted by House Fobian.

Though not organized by the family head himself, the event brought together countless nobles, giving Puang the opportunity to build connections.

A few nobles who had traded with Puang before even approached him first—assuming he must have deep ties with House Fobian.

Kahel Fobian was a man in his sixties, sitting alone in a corner, gulping down wine.

Despite his innate magical genius, which led to his adoption into House Fobian, Kahel, an Arch Mage, had no real power within the family.

Puang approached and greeted him respectfully.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Arch Mage Kahel Fobian. I am Puang, a humble merchant.”

“If you want power from House Fobian, go find someone else. Don’t annoy me—get lost.”

“You’re the only one I wanted to meet here. I have no interest in those who flaunt their bloodline.”

These were Yuma’s words—but even so, Puang had rehearsed them several times before speaking.

It was the kind of line that could easily get one executed for disrespect.

Puang sighed internally, wondering how he had ended up following the commands—no, suggestions—of a sixteen-year-old commoner boy.

“Hahahaha! You’re insane!”

But when Puang brought up the production and cultivation of Mana Crystals, Kahel accepted without hesitation.

Unlimited access to Mana Crystals was a blessing no mage in the Empire’s history had ever known.

Having been shunned and mistreated his whole life as an adopted outsider, Kahel had no intention of sharing this secret with House Fobian—or anyone else.

And that’s exactly why Yuma had chosen to tell him. He knew Kahel better than anyone.

On the surface, it looked like a win-win.

House Fobian got to send their troublesome old man far away, and Kahel could finally focus on his research without needing to kiss up to the family.

As for Puang, he agreed to supply five Mana Crystals each month to House Fobian.

One of the five Mana Crystals was originally supposed to go to Kahel, who held elder-level rank—but there was no way House Fobian would bother setting aside a share for a lowborn adoptee stationed in a foreign land.

They didn’t even know that Kahel would soon have unrestricted access to a vast supply of Mana Crystals starting next year.

“The picture’s finally coming together. Now then, there’s no better country to cultivate Mana Crystals in. Mr. Puang, let’s lease land in the Kingdom of Matan.”

“The Kingdom of Matan…?”

“Yes. The one famous for the Black Wolf Corps.”

“I know it well. But isn’t Matan notoriously isolationist? Has been for ages. Their people are extremely wary of outsiders. I’ve never managed to break into that region.”

The Kingdom of Matan was like a natural fortress in itself.

Though small and narrow, it was surrounded by the Egon Mountains, and the paths into the kingdom were treacherously difficult.

Despite several attempts at conquest, it remained the only kingdom the Empire had never been able to subdue.

There was even a saying: “Never brag about your fists in Matan.” The people of Matan were naturally brave and iron-willed.

Though the country was tiny, it produced more Master-class warriors than most major nations.

From the Kail Empire’s point of view, Matan was like a stubborn thorn in the foot—small, but irritating for years.

Every time a war of conquest began, Matan refused to yield. The Egon Mountains made magical bombardments ineffective. And its people? Equally belligerent—noble or commoner.

Sure, the Empire could conquer Matan if it really tried.

But the cost would far outweigh the gain.

The land wasn’t fertile. The natural resources weren’t abundant enough to justify the effort.

If the Empire could somehow control Matan’s warriors, it would be worth the losses.

But to enslave those warriors? They would rather die than serve an imperial crown. That much was clear.

“If we could cultivate Mana Crystals in Matan, it’d be ideal. The Empire’s surveillance wouldn’t reach there. But how would we lease land in that country? If we show up claiming we’re imperial merchants, they’d probably cut out our tongues first.”

“We lease the land… through the Black Wolf Corps.”

“What?”

The Black Wolf Corps was the most powerful mercenary group in the world.

During wartime, they prioritized defending Matan. In peacetime, they took on dangerous missions around the continent. The perfect model of a mercenary army.

In essence, the Black Wolf Corps was a private military force made up of Matan’s best warriors.

“If not for them, Matan would’ve been wiped off the map during the Dragon-Horse War.”

Though their true strength hadn’t shone through due to the betrayal of their vice-captain Kagor during the war, they still managed to protect Matan from complete annihilation by the Demonkind.

“You keep pulling wild solutions out of thin air… I’m having a hard time keeping up.”

“Mr. Puang, why do you seek wealth?”

Of course, Yuma already knew the answer.

He hadn’t chosen Puang out of all the Empire’s merchants simply because of his savvy or principles.

“For a merchant, making money needs no reason. Some people wield swords because they love them. Some study magic because they’re obsessed. Some paint simply because they love art. I… just love money.”

That’s what Puang always said, whenever someone asked why he needed money or what he wanted it for.

“The Black Wolf Corps are mercenaries because they love the life. But do you know what’s most important to a mercenary?”

“Money? Honor? Power?”

“Missions. That one desperate request that only they can fulfill—‘Please help us! You’re our only hope!’ That’s what they live for.”

“Hah…”

“Let’s give the Black Wolf Corps a mission.”

“W-What kind of mission…? And how in the world do we even approach them?”