Chapter 9: The Rule of Merchants

To the southeast of the Tearmoon Empire, past a cluster of small nations, lay an enormous port. The independent port city of St. Baleine was a proud and peaceful harbor of the Holy Principality of Belluga. A ceaseless string of feuds between neighboring nations over the harbor’s usage rights led to a Belluga intervention, in which they annexed the surrounding lands and opened up the harbor to merchants from all the nearby areas. They then convinced a number of companies to jointly establish a merchant’s guild, which was then fully entrusted with the maintenance and development of infrastructure for both the harbor and its town. Belluga had made the town its protectorate, but only in name. The system they put in place ensured that all material benefits were shared with nearby nations.

At first, this move was met with an endless stream of complaints from the neighbors. All the involved actors had been aiming to monopolize the port’s economic potential. However, over time, as they began to reap the rewards of Belluga’s system, opposing voices died down. Commercial dynamism was a fair blessing in and of itself. The economic calculus of regional players soon realized that the current arrangement might in fact be preferable to sole ownership of the port. Having a fountain of gold in one’s own backyard made for a highly conspicuous target; the cost of defending it was not trivial. Having it in nobody’s backyard could actually save all of them money. Thus flourished the port of peace, which was now one of the continent’s most prominent trade centers and widely known as a merchant’s paradise.

Standing at this enormous port was Marco Forkroad, who looked up at his company’s large-scale merchant ship, the Auro Vangelo, and sighed. “Who would have thought...?”

The ship was bound for a nation far across the sea, where wheat yields were plentiful, and it was heading there under a contract with Mia Luna Tearmoon, princess of the Tearmoon Empire.

“The state of things today... Did the princess see this coming? If she did, then what a terrifying individual she is...” Marco recalled the face of the princess with whom his daughter had become intimately acquainted. A wry smile spread across his lips, equal parts pride and worry. “Lord almighty, Chloe, just what kind of person did you befriend?”

“Oh? Well, if it isn’t Marco of Forkroad & Co.”

Hearing his name called, Marco turned to find a pot-bellied man with a flamboyantly curled mustache standing before him. The man greeted him with a smile that was awfully wide but undoubtedly only skin-deep. Marco knew him well—this was a man who’d never once put his heart into a smile.

“Ah, Shalloak... Long time no see.”

Shalloak Cornrogue was a wealthy merchant whose sprawling business spanned the entire continent, trading in myriad wares from foodstuffs to silk goods and even weapons. No matter the item or category, if there was money to be made, he was dealing in it. His ruthless profit-focused approach to business was, frankly, something Marco didn’t enjoy being around. Shalloak was an absolutely cutthroat merchant, and that bothered him because he knew Shalloak was right. As a merchant, Marco understood that ruthlessness was the correct option. He also understood that it was a quality he himself did not possess.

Well, it had bothered him. Now, it was all in the past, because Marco had discovered something more brilliant—more glorious—than the correctness of merchant practices could ever be.

How incredibly fascinating. Whenever I was in his presence, I always felt inferior, but now...

He shook his head and produced another sardonic grin.

“Oh ho ho, I know that grin,” said Shalloak as he twirled his mustache. “That’s the grin of someone who just made absolute fools of his foes. Well played, my man. To be honest, when you first started dealing in overseas wheat, I thought you’d lost your mind. Folly of the highest order, I remember calling it. And look at you now—that wheat of yours must be worth thrice what you got them for. How does it feel to have shown the rest of us up, hm?”

Marco shrugged. “I appreciate your interest in this matter, but the selling price of the wheat I recently imported was, as a matter of fact, already set beforehand.”

“Oh? And would that be through a contract with the so-called Great Sage of the Empire?” asked Shalloak with a knowing grin.

“How did you—”

“Oh ho ho, but of course I know. Keep an open ear, and rumors will fly in from all sorts of places.”

For merchants, information was a vital weapon. That was why Marco had kept the number of people who knew about his contract with Mia down to an absolute minimum. Yet somehow...

After a period of careful consideration, Marco let out a resigned sigh. “I suppose there’s no point hiding it at this point. As you mentioned, it is indeed a clause in my contract with Her Highness.”

“And you’re intending to abide by this clause? To the word?”

“Naturally. Contracts are sacred and inviolable for us merchants. Are you suggesting that I go back on my promised word?”

“Come now. It’s not a matter of principle; it’s a matter of method. And there are many methods. You can, for example, first sell some to a kingdom at a higher price. The empire can come later.”

Marco, who was normally a mild-mannered man, glared at Shalloak. A tinge of anger crept into his voice. “You can’t be serious.”

“And why can’t I? I’ve never been more serious in my life. If anything, this is what defines us as merchants, isn’t it? The only reason we abide by contracts is because it leads to longer-lasting business, which usually results in more profit than the alternative. But if there exists a way to make even more money,” Shalloak said, narrowing his eyes, “then you should be wedging every last piece of wisdom you have into that damn contract to pry open a loophole. The poor harvest from last year has caused wheat prices to spike. You’d be a disgrace if you failed to capitalize on this. We’re merchants, man. The soul of merchanting is loyalty to money. Should the flames of war burn this continent to the ground, we’ll find a way to sell the ashes. That’s what being a merchant is about.”

“Lord almighty... I don’t think we’ll ever see eye to eye, Shalloak. I pray that your business continues to thrive. That much, at least, I can offer.”

“And I’ll take it. Every bit helps when you’re running a business, after all.”

Marco spun on his heels and walked off. Shalloak saw him off with a grin that wasn’t entirely friendly.