Chapter 34

Hamel was the first to leave the reception room and was packing his things.

A moment later, Benjamin also calmly exited the reception room.

Hamel only glanced at him briefly before Benjamin suddenly bowed deeply to Hamel and apologized.

“I’m sorry, Lord Hamel.”

“I’m not sure what you’re apologizing for.”

With his head bowed, Benjamin answered Hamel’s question.

“Bringing lowly me along with you was meant to mock you, Lord Hamel.”

“Ah, was that it? It’s all right.”

“…?”

Hamel shook his head calmly.

Benjamin’s eyes widened in slight surprise at that response, but Hamel was sincere.

He had relinquished his noble status for so long that he was completely unaware of this kind of provocation.

Moreover, he simply didn’t care.

Hamel was more curious about other news.

“What happened with the bid?”

“Ah, the bid?”

He replied in a cold, matter-of-fact tone.

“It fell through. The steward claimed the previous bid had priority. The contract has already gone to another guild.”

Unfortunately, Benjamin’s concerns had come true.

The steward decided to buy from a cheaper guild’s stock.

Benjamin murmured as if admitting a mistake.

“It seems we overestimated the value of our Lawrence guild’s name. It’s been a long time since we’ve been treated like this; it’s disconcerting.”

“Then what about the remaining stock?”

“It’s troublesome, but we’ll have to manage somehow. The steward offered to buy it at a quarter of the original price. He said we could either sell the food at that price or let it rot—it’s up to us.”

Hamel looked at him for a moment and then asked.

“A quarter of the price—how much is that?”

“One sack of whole wheat for 1 mark. Charlottes, carrots, and cabbages are ten crates for 1 mark. That’s below our cost price.”

“2 marks.”

“…Excuse me?”

“We’ll buy all the remaining stock. Exactly twice the price. Ah, except for the salt.”

Benjamin’s mask-like expression cracked at Hamel’s words.

He wiped his monocle in slight bewilderment, took a moment, then calmly replied to Hamel.

“I’m sorry, but there’s a considerable amount of stock. At that price you’d have to pay at least 20,000 marks…”

─rattle

A leather pouch Hamel plunked into Benjamin’s hand revealed a heap of gleaming gold coins.

As Benjamin stood dumbfounded, Hamel answered calmly.

“As it happens, I have exactly 20,000 marks.”

“…You have that money and yet—why?”

Benjamin looked up at Hamel in puzzlement.

The man’s face was no longer that of a cold, calculating businessman.

The genuinely surprised old man asked him with curiosity.

He asked why, having that much money, Hamel had endured the earlier insult.

Hamel’s answer was simple.

“Saving the tenants takes priority.”

“…Heh heh.”

Benjamin laughed out loud for the first time.

What began as a laugh of incredulity soon turned into an amused chuckle.

“Ha ha. Lord Hamel, you’re quite an interesting man.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. At least among the nobles I’ve seen, you’re the strangest.”

“I see.”

Hamel simply nodded calmly.

Benjamin collected the money and replied.

“Very well. I’ll accept the deal. It seems we have a new client.”

Hamel shrugged in response.

“Then a bit of advice for the new client: next year, don’t bring salt into Sorn or the surrounding area. There’s a lot of stock piled up.”

“Ah… I see.”

Benjamin understood Hamel immediately and nodded.

It meant that due to the estate’s situation, a significant amount of salt had gone unsold for some time.

If Haidern released its supply, salt prices in Sorn and nearby Haidern would plummet.

“Thank you for such valuable advice.”

“It’s nothing. Now then, let’s be on our way.”

Benjamin was heading back to his guild.

Hamel was heading east to the Rosel Forest to work off his debt.

It was time to head east to the Rosel Forest.

The reception room, now empty of both Hamel and Conrad.

For some reason, Viscount Ramsey frowned and had no intention of leaving the reception room.

Sometime later.

He drummed his ringed fingers on the desk and summoned the steward.

“Steward.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“So there’s only that one bloodline left in the Gilmore family?”

“Yes. Dennis Gilmore died in a demon attack, and David Gilmore went missing fighting demons—his whereabouts are unknown. The only one left is Hamel Saint Gilmore, the former Exorcist priest.”

“I heard he became the lord recently? Then his support base must be weak.”

The lord’s question drew a sardonic nod and smile from the steward.

“Originally, there aren’t many tenants left in Haidern. After this winter, the estate will be empty.”

“Then that changes things for us.”

Viscount Ramsey stroked his jowls with his hand.

Those bastards occupying the east would require sending an army to deal with.

He’d heard that Hamel, or whatever his name was, was a priest who couldn’t even properly wield Divine power.

Such a charlatan clearly couldn’t solve the problem.

If the man failed and returned, the salt mine would fall into his hands, but gaining only a salt mine wasn’t nearly enough of the spoil.

Perhaps it would be better to leave the debt as it is.

When Haidern was emptied, it might give him the pretext to swallow it whole.

No, if he pulled a few strings, it would certainly be possible.

“Steward. A salt mine alone is insufficient.”

“Then…”

“Can it be dealt with quietly?”

“…!”

The steward widened his eyes for a moment and then nodded emphatically.

“It so happens Maron’s Laughing Fox is in the area.”

“Maron’s Laughing Fox… the ‘Pale String’s’?”

“Yes.”

“It’ll cost a bit.”

“But it’ll be certain.”

After a moment’s thought, Ramsey smiled thinly and nodded.

“Good. Proceed.”

“Yes. But…”

“What?”

“What if that man actually solves the problem?”

Ramsey burst into laughter as if he’d heard a ridiculous joke.

But the laughter didn’t last long.

“He can’t use Divine power, so he couldn’t possibly do it; yet that would be troublesome.”

The Viscount Ramsey stopped laughing abruptly and issued a flat order.

“Give the Fox an additional contract. Create a pretext.”

“Understood.”

The steward bowed his head and left.

Left alone in the reception room, Ramsey rubbed his ringed fingers together.

Even in the dark, those two eyes glittered with greed.

A half-day’s travel east from Sorn brought them to a stretch of green, verdant woods.

But instead of admiration, Hamel cocked his head and asked.

“The Rosel Forest… was it always this small?”

He distinctly remembered visiting this forest years ago.

Back then it had been vast to the point of being impossible to take in at a glance, dense enough that the inner reaches were hidden.

But what about now?

Stumps of felled trees spread widely; though the work had paused, overturned roots and split rocks lay everywhere from clearing efforts.

Perhaps because of that, the forest no longer carried its former grandeur.

Benjamin nodded slowly at Hamel’s question.

“In the past few years Sorn has been focusing on cultivating farmland. Above all, it’s Sorn—we can never have too much firewood.”

Hamel nodded slightly as if he understood.

Sorn was a town of smiths where ironworking technology was advanced.

From weapons to farming tools, goods produced in Sorn were of notable quality.

So it wasn’t surprising they’d need more firewood than other domains.

“But it’s gone too far.”

“Yes. It seems iron prices in the domain have risen recently. No one expected prices to rise in Sorn, which has iron mines.”

“….”

Iron prices had gone up.

The reason was obvious.

Either supply had dwindled, or…

‘…demand has increased.’

Hamel was mulling over that implication.

“I believe we’re almost there.”

Benjamin said, looking toward the window.

Their carriage had already entered the depths of the forest.

The dense trees swallowed sound, silence fell, and the driver slowed the pace.

The light was dim like dawn, but the road was maintained enough for the carriage to pass.

They had been driving for some time when suddenly—

─thunk

An arrow flew from somewhere and lodged in front of the carriage.

The horses were startled and the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

“They’re here.”

Hamel stepped out calmly.

There were people waiting for the party.

A small-framed man standing at the front spoke.

“Turn back. This land ahead is ours.”

He wore his robe hooded deeply, but his tone and voice betrayed an age close to old.

Hamel shook his head firmly and spoke.

“This is Sorn’s domain. Furthermore, this road is infrastructure built by their lord.”

“They came into our forest and cut a road as they pleased. We tolerated it, that’s all.”

Hamel stared at the old man and asked.

“Who are you?”

“…There’s no need to know.”

At the old man’s signal, a towering man as large as an ancient tree stepped forward.

He stood before Hamel clutching a club as big as a log.

His intimidating presence made the guards protecting Benjamin falter and step back.

“Turn back. We don’t want to fight.”

The old man issued one final warning.

Hamel only shook his head again.

“…We have circumstances that prevent us from simply turning back.”

Hamel turned to the old man and said.

“I don’t want to fight either, so let’s talk.”

The old man silently pointed behind him.

“It’s not over yet.”

“…?”

As Hamel turned, another log-sized club came swinging at him.

Hamel barely stepped back to evade, and the club was swung at him again and again.

─thud!

A missed swing smashed a roadside rock.

If it had hit, it would have crushed bone at least.

The massive man kept swinging the club as if he hadn’t just been felled.

Narrowly avoiding the club, Hamel said bluntly.

“You drew a weapon first, so I will use one as well.”

The man called Findel readjusted his grip and swung the club forcefully instead of replying.

Hamel, on the other hand, drew a sword and blocked it.

The ground beneath Hamel shattered, sending up a cloud of dust.

Even a knight would have been shattered by that impact.

“Findel! What are you doing!”

The old man cried out urgently.

“How many times must I say—don’t kill them…!”

─flash

But before his words had finished—

A blade flashed through the dust.

─shing

Findel bled from his arms and legs and collapsed where he stood.

And through the dust, Hamel emerged slowly.

“…What?”

The old man’s voice trembled as he spoke.

“How dare you touch Findel!”

A robed woman right behind the old man shouted and swiftly drew her bow on Hamel.

However—

─whish

Two daggers hurled earlier had already embedded themselves in the shoulders that had drawn the bow and arrow.

Hamel’s throwing knives had struck their targets precisely.

“Ugh.”

The fallen woman tried to grab her bow again.

Cold steel pressed to her throat.

Hamel had closed in and leveled his sword at her neck.

“Enough.”

The old man, who had been watching the situation quietly, spoke up.

In a voice chilled to a cold tone he asked,

“Are you a knight sent by the lord?”

“No.”

“…?”

The old man, taken aback by Hamel’s immediate reply, could not speak.

It was easy to understand why.

The movements Hamel had displayed were ones even most knights would find difficult to replicate.

Hamel sheathed the sword and sat down, folding his hands together.

To anyone watching, it was a reverent posture for prayer.

They were briefly startled by the calm, effortless naturalness of it.

─whoosh

A blue Azure Flame rose from the wounds of the fallen Findel and the woman.

“What is that?”

For a brief moment they were stunned as the bleeding from the wounds ceased and began to heal.

While the woman touched her wound in surprise, no one dared step forward, and silence held sway.

“Who in God’s name are you…?”

When the old man asked Hamel, Hamel brushed dust off himself and stood.

“My name is Hamel. I am the lord of Haidern and a priest.”