Chapter 211

Chapter 211: The Prices Just Went Up (Part 1)

“Do you have a lover, Instructor? Your muscles are so amazing. They’re just... disgustingly huge, though...”

“How about we talk things out over a drink?”

“I really want to have a serious conversation about life with you, Instructor. What do you think?”

If it involved just getting Gordon to drink, I was confident I could handle him easily.

The problem was that Gordon didn’t drink. Worse, he was so oblivious he wouldn’t even realize he was being seduced.

“I don’t drink! Alcohol causes ‘muscle loss!’ You’ve rested enough—get up! We’re doing it again!”

‘Damn, that bastard looks like he’d be great at drinking, too.’

When seduction failed, the elves resorted to another tactic. They all wore pitiful expressions, tears welling up in their eyes.

“We’re too exhausted to keep going. Can we rest just a little longer?”

“How about just three push-ups a day and running half a lap? We’re really weak, you know.”

“Do you have no compassion for the weak, Instructor? You’re just a kid yourself...”

These were elves who had endured countless trials in the human world. Their tearful acting was unparalleled.

When beautiful elves pretended to cry, most humans would melt on the spot.

Even Gordon, oblivious as he was, seemed to feel a twinge of guilt, as if bewitched.

“Sh-should we take it a little easier, then...?”

At that moment, Ghislain’s warning echoed in his mind.

― If you don’t train them properly, you know what’ll happen. You’ll find yourself in special training.

The memory jolted him awake. The special training devised by the lord was terrifying. The fear engraved deep in his psyche overrode his instincts.

“No, absolutely not! If we slack off, I’ll die, and so will all of you! Get up, now!”

‘Damn it. What a heartless bastard.’

Grinding their teeth in frustration, the elves reluctantly stood. One of them, unable to hold back, shouted:

“We’re elves! Instead of this nonsense, let’s just train in spirit magic! You know elves are all about spirit magic, right?”

“I already heard you’re no good at that!” Gordon retorted.

‘How does he know that?’

But the elves weren’t ones to give up so easily. Another elf chimed in:

“Then we’ll study magic instead! We’re really smart, you know!”

“Yeah! Isn’t learning magic more useful if we’re going to become soldiers anyway?”

“Right! Please tell the lord we’ve decided to become mages!”

Sitting and studying sounded far more appealing. They were too weak to keep enduring physical training.

“Magic? Magic?”

Gordon was momentarily at a loss. What was he supposed to say if they wanted to study magic?

Even Gordon, as ignorant as he was, understood that mages were far more valuable personnel than soldiers.

Should he stop the training and report this request?

But he didn’t want to. If the elves actually started studying magic, the position he had worked so hard to obtain might be snatched away.

On top of that, he had come to relish the joy of pushing people to their limits. There was no way he would give that up.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Gordon clapped his hands as if he had thought of something brilliant.

“Watch closely, you fools!”

Bwoooom!

Boom!

With full force, Gordon slammed his fist into the ground.

The earth split instantly, sending dust flying into the air.

The elves recoiled in shock, stepping back. Was this bastard planning to solve things with brute force, just like the lord?

Gordon raised his fist and, with a smug expression, declared:

“Highly developed muscles are indistinguishable from magic.”

Who needed magic? If something was tough to achieve with the body alone, that was magic in itself.

This was Gordon’s personal philosophy regarding magic.

“......”

The elves were at a loss for words.

On the surface, it sounded like a grandiose statement, but a deeper look revealed how utterly nonsensical and ignorant it was. Indeed, there wasn’t a single normal person in this territory.

But Gordon didn’t care and kept urging the elves.

“Now, get up! We’re starting again!”

“Yes, sir...”

The miners, motivated by their improving living conditions, were eagerly swinging their pickaxes, resulting in the extraction of far more iron ore than during Count Cabaldi’s administration.

However, the merchants, unaware of this reality, had no choice but to accept Claude’s terms.

‘Damn it, he’s ripping us off thoroughly.’

‘Just wait. Once this situation stabilizes, I’ll make sure to get my revenge.’

‘Let’s see how long you can keep that arrogant attitude.’

Though grinding their teeth in frustration, the merchants reluctantly nodded in agreement.

Since the Fenris Estate had an iron grip on the northern supply of food and iron ore, there was no alternative unless they resorted to taking it by force.

Of course, not everyone accepted the situation quietly.

“This is utterly unreasonable!”

The loud outburst came from Paril, a middle-aged merchant who managed a rather prominent merchant guild in the North.

Claude casually scratched his ear and asked back.

“What’s so unreasonable?”

“No matter how much of a monopoly you have over resources, isn’t this too heartless? There’s such a thing as basic business ethics! Raising the price by 30% in one go is excessive!”

“Pfft!”

Claude burst out laughing, unable to contain his disbelief.

Business ethics? If they had a shred of conscience, they wouldn’t dare mention such nonsense in the Fenris Estate.

Claude’s profiteering from the gathered merchants wasn’t purely for gain.

What they didn’t realize was that there were others receiving goods at much cheaper prices. It wasn’t a coincidence that Claude had split the dealings into separate groups.

‘This is your karma, plain and simple. If there’s one thing our lord won’t forget, it’s a grudge.’

The merchant guilds active in the North had naturally dealt with Ferdium on multiple occasions in the past.

And during those dealings, they had swindled Ferdium endlessly, reaping immense profits.

‘They sent near-rotten food to supporting estates. Merchants swapped out quality goods for inferior ones. They inflated prices of even the smallest essentials to several times their original value.’

As a result, Ferdium had no choice but to accrue debts to these merchants, whether the amounts were small or large.

The debts that Ferdium’s treasurer, Albert, constantly lamented about were precisely those owed to these northern merchant guilds and neighboring estates.

In the Ferdium Estate, merchants like these were feared more than barbarians.

Ghislain never forgot the sight of his father and retainers constantly wracked with worry over money.

‘You’re lucky we’re only stopping at a 30% increase because we still need to do business. But you’ve already made it onto our lord’s bad side.’

Ghislain had sent someone to Ferdium to retrieve a list of the merchant guilds that had swindled them in the past.

As soon as Albert saw the request, he immediately caught on to Ghislain’s intentions and enthusiastically compiled a detailed list. In moments like these, their teamwork was disgustingly perfect.

‘Sorry, but once Desmond falls, all of you are next. Every last one of you.’

Ghislain had no intention of leaving these merchants alone. It wasn’t just about vengeance—it was also part of his larger plan to unify the North.

For now, he lacked the resources and time to handle this matter directly, so he was content to proceed with transactions at inflated profits.

But only Ghislain’s closest confidants were aware of this plan. Meanwhile, Claude privately smirked at the merchants, ensuring not to let his amusement show.

“No matter what you say, there’s no chance we’ll lower the price. Understand that. I don’t enjoy long conversations. I’m not much of a talker, you see. When I was young, my father always used to nag me about how it’s better to listen than to speak...”

As Claude prattled on endlessly about himself, Paril clenched his fists tightly, trembling with suppressed anger.

In the past, he wouldn’t have been pushed around by some brat.

But now, the Baron of Fenris had risen as one of the North’s powerhouses. Even without controlling food and iron ore, the baron’s decisive role in securing victory in the recent war was enough to solidify his position.

Rumors about how they had won were so outlandish that no one even knew what to believe.

Suppressing his fury, Paril interrupted Claude’s rambling.

“Enough about your childhood! Let me meet with your lord! I insist on speaking with him directly!”

“You want to meet our lord?”

“Yes! I’ve conducted numerous transactions with the Count of Ferdium, your lord’s father. Surely, he remembers me! I even had the chance to meet him briefly in Ferdium before!”

‘This fool is walking straight to his own doom.’

Having swindled Ferdium so thoroughly in the past, he now wanted to confront its new master directly. Claude had no intention of stopping such an entertaining spectacle.

“Oh, you’re an acquaintance of the Count of Ferdium? Well, you’d better hurry, then. Hey, show this gentleman the way.”

With an overly pleasant tone, Claude gestured for Paril to proceed, who, now emboldened, strode forward confidently, even puffing out his chest.

When Paril finally met Ghislain, he launched into an impassioned tirade about how unreasonable the current prices were.

He even went so far as to issue a thinly veiled threat, saying that maintaining good relations with the merchant guilds would be beneficial for the estate’s future.

After quietly listening to Paril’s complaints, Ghislain nonchalantly replied as soon as he finished.

“50%.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s no longer a 30% increase; it’s 50%. Effective immediately.”

At Ghislain’s words, Paril’s complexion turned deathly pale.