Three months later, beneath the vaulted arches of Eldermere's grand council hall, the King of Zoliland sat among his fellow monarchs, their faces etched with tension. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense and the faint metallic tang of armor polish. Before them, sprawled across an ornate oak table, lay maps and ledgers—evidence of the merchant guilds' unchecked expansion. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows, making the kings' expressions unreadable as they debated their next move.
Aldric of Eldermere, his broad frame draped in a fur-trimmed crimson robe, cleared his throat with a wet, rattling cough that silenced the murmurs in the room. His voice, though hoarse, carried the weight of command.
"Cough, let me start by thanking you all for coming here." He paused, his piercing gaze sweeping over the assembled rulers. "We share the same blight—these merchants, like rats in a granary, grow fat while we struggle to grasp this new feudal order. We lack the reins to steer them. So." He leaned forward, his jeweled rings glinting. "Before I speak my mind, I would like to hear your thoughts. What do you propose?"
A ripple of displeasure passed through the kings, thinking that he was acting arrogant on purpose to point out that he was stronger than them, but they couldn't confront him at the same time.
Keldrin Stormcrest of Thunderreach, a mountain of a man with a beard woven with silver thread, scoffed, his gauntleted fist clenching. His voice dripped with disdain.
"It's only a matter of time before those coin-counting snakes slither into our courts and demand a seat at this table." He slammed his palm down, making the goblets tremble. "We must remind them of their place—beneath our boots. Let it be law: any merchant who dares sell us inferior goods will lose not just his gold, but his name. His hands. His tongue."
Theron Brightvale of Luminara, the youngest and fairest among them, recoiled as if struck. His fingers tightened around the cup he was holding, his knuckles whitening.
"And when they rise up? When the streets run red with their fury?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the thick air. "Or have you forgotten the last emperor a hundred years ago? The one who thought chains and beheadings would keep his throne? He held sway with unbearable tyranny, along with his charlatan wizard-priests. We can't push our people into a corner—it's the first step to our downfall. We were all commoners from wealthy families before. What gives us the right to enslave our people, making them feel like lower beings?" "
Keldrin's lip curled. "Let them try. We'll hang their corpses from the city gates as a warning."
Theron's jaw clenched. He wanted to argue, but the cold glint in the other kings' eyes told him he stood alone.
"It's only a matter of time before those merchants grow their influence, so we must establish certain rules to limit them or to assert our superiority over them. For example, we declare ourselves as beings superior to them—our blood, our flesh, and everything related to us is above them. Any merchant who sells us low-quality goods will not only be punished but will also have his fortune and identity as a merchant stripped from him," Keldrin said with an arrogant tone.
A few other kings agreed, while others did not react. Theron was displeased with how the conversation was going.
Aldric of Eldermere listened carefully to the other kings before speaking. "Cough, my fellow kings, I agree with what you've all said, but we must find a solution. Cruelty breeds rebellion, but weakness invites defiance. There is another way. My counselor here has a few proposals. I liked what he told me, so I wish you would hear him out and give your opinions or suggest alternatives if you disagree. It's better than debating all day."
The room fell silent after Aldric's speech. He snapped his fingers as a signal for his counselor to speak.
"Ahem, first of all, I appreciate that you've all honored me by allowing me to speak and present my humble proposal regarding this predicament we face. It has come to my consideration that we may alter the exchange rate of gold—from 10 silver to 1 gold, we would change it to 100 silver for 1 gold, thus reserving gold for the usage of the nobility, while silver remains the medium of exchange for merchants and affluent commoners. Nonetheless, it is not prudent to implement this change forthwith. First, we must collect as much gold as we can from merchants for a period of one to two months, then announce the change. This will ensure that we augment our coffers and make it harder for merchants to aspire to our rank."
"The idea is good, but the execution is difficult. I'm sure they won't stand idly by if you do it like that," King Torvain Stonehelm, ruler of Stoneharbor, interrupted.
"Yes, I'm aware of the consequences. That's why we will collaborate with the wealthiest merchants—granting them minor noble titles, of course. They'll pacify their peers by promising shared benefits. The markets will erupt in chaos initially, but once those profit-driven merchants realize their gold's value will soar, they'll scramble to stabilize prices to exploit the exchange rate. And by leaving a few gold coins in commoners' hands, some will wake up newly wealthy from a single coin. That alone will quell unrest."
"I find the concept agreeable, yet merchants are ever shrewd. They shall persist in their alliances. Bestowing titles upon them risks augmenting their power." Alistar von Aster, ruler of Zoliland, concluded, his gaze lingering with a hint of predatory amusement.
"Yes, that would transpire were we to remain idle. But we shall not remain so. First, they shall be permitted to pacify the populace—we wish to avoid force, save in direst necessity. Second, we shall sever their ties with their merchant brethren, thus reinforcing the notion of noble preeminence. Over time, their mindset—and their children's—will change. They'll strive to align themselves with us, seeking noble marriages and paying hefty sums for the privilege. The royal family, as the highest noble house, will reap the greatest benefits. In the end, the nobles will be the ultimate victors."
All the kings' eyes widened in amazement at the idea—except for Luminara's King Theron Brightvale, who kept his head down, hiding his expression. He knew he couldn't oppose the other kings after that speech. To do so would brand him a traitor—or worse, it could lead to war.
***
Over the three-month deal, Jasper worked nonstop with all the workers in the workshop, earning a net profit of 8,000 gold and 58,400 silver from selling 5,300 parchments and furs. Unfortunately, the parchment merchants discovered the source of the parchment and began imitating Robben (Jasper), slowing his sales in the fourth month. Additionally, something strange was happening that Jasper couldn't quite grasp. Previously, there had been many gold coins alongside silver, but now his sales were entirely in silver. The nobles started paying with silver, which was unusual—though most merchants preferred trading in silver, as it was easier for commoners to make change. Jasper, being a new merchant, saw things differently, but he couldn't yet perceive the threat.
By the end of the fourth month, Jasper's overall earning reached 8,000 gold and 86,400 silver. After deducting Robben's share, he was left with 8,000 gold and 53,120 silver.
In the fifth month of the Parchment & Fur trade, Ivar delivered the goods to Robben and declared that this was the final month of the deal, per Jasper's orders. After this, Robben could begin his own journey as a merchant. Excited, Robben nodded and took the goods—but he never appeared on the day they were supposed to meet and hand over the earnings.
When Robben didn't show up, Jasper knew something was wrong. Ivar asked, "Did something happen to him?"
"I hope that's the case."
"Are you supposed to say 'I hope not,' master?"
"What I meant is that I hope he got into an accident rather than ran off with the money. Remember earlier this month when I told you to inform him this was our last deal?"
Ivar's expression turned to shock. "You think he stole the money?! He couldn't be that ungrateful!"
"That's why I'm hoping something happened to him. Better than stabbing us in the back."
Mina and Lysandra were stunned by Jasper's conclusion, saying he deserved to die if he had betrayed them—especially after five months of hard work. Even Jasper had helped, and now someone was stealing their earnings? It was outrageous.
The next day, Jasper went to the mercenary guild to check if his secret mission had been completed. Unfortunately, or fortunately It had. The receptionist escorted him to a room deep inside the building, where a mercenary sat on a wooden bench with a bag on the table.
Jasper sat across from him and asked bluntly, "So, did it go as planned?"
"Your suspicion was correct. I found out he sold all your goods to other merchants and fled the city. As ordered, I cut off his hand and left him in the forest. I doubt he'll survive—not with all the monsters roaming there. And here's something extra: he sold your goods for over 2 gold each. He profited big. You can't trust people so easily."
"Thanks for your work… Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead." said the mercenary, nodding
"You could've taken the bag and run. I'm sure you know how much money is in there."
"Greed is the first step to the grave. I don't want to end up a bandit or die young. I value my reputation, and I don't do more than I'm ordered."
"Thanks for your honesty."
After settling the payment, Jasper took the bag and left the guild, where Ivar was waiting. "So, how did it go?"
"Just as I suspected—he was a traitor."
"That ungrateful bastard! How could he bite the hand that fed him?"
"It's fine, Ivar. Honestly, this is for the best. We got our money back—plus his share. Isn't that better?"
"Well, when you put it that way, I can't argue. I just wish I could punch him if I ever saw him again."
"Don't worry. We'll never see him again."
Back at the inn, Jasper and Ivar regrouped with Lysandra and Mina to discuss their next move.
"Now we have 100% of the sales. Don't you think we should thank Robben for his greed?" Jasper said.
"Looking at it that way, I can't disagree—but I still can't forgive him for tricking us. We have to be more careful from now on," Lysandra said, pouting.
"I agree," Mina added.
"I wasn't aware he was selling at such high prices—tricking us into thinking he was selling at the standard rate. I knew he'd betray us eventually, which is why I hired a mercenary to deal with him. Now we have in total 10,415 gold, 123,430 silver, and a lonely bronze coin."
"Ivar, go with Lysandra and buy whatever herbs she needs."
"Why would I need herbs, master?" Lysandra asked.
"For our new guild. You'll be preparing medicines and personal care products. Your knowledge will be the foundation of our business."
"What about me?" Mina asked.
"You can also go with them. If anything happens, you and Ivar will pretend to be Lysandra's slaves. Since she doesn't have a slave brand like you two, it'll be good camouflage in case of discrimination. I'll take 100,000 silver to establish our guild. The rest is for you to manage—buy whatever you want after securing the herbs. Consider it your reward for your hard work."