Chapter 13: The Storied Life of Shalloak Cornrogue the Merchant King

Shalloak Cornrogue, the Merchant King.

When the great famine struck, he saw a once-in-a-lifetime business opportunity and capitalized on it, seizing the whole continent’s food-distribution network in one fell swoop. After swallowing a number of companies and gaining control over countless independent merchants, he began referring to himself as the Merchant King.

The life that followed was one that brimmed with wealth and splendor. He was undoubtedly a man gifted with brilliant business acumen, and if there was a god of money and avarice, they were definitely smiling on him as well. His wealth continued to swell, pushing him to peaks of affluence unknown to any before his time. He was both hero and villain, rogue and champion—a warrior of fortune who seized glory from the maws of chaos and thrived in turbulent times.

What follows...is the coda of this tale—how the curtains fell on the storied life of Shalloak Cornrogue.

On his way to a business deal, Shalloak Cornrogue collapsed. Years of overeating and insufficient exercise had taxed his body beyond its limit. Though he technically survived the incapacitation, his body didn’t. His limbs were no longer his. Left unable to move or speak, he could but lie in bed and watch the world go by. Absent a wife, children, and even siblings, his fortune was, by law, left in the care of his chief attendant.

His “god” did not save him from his plight. Rather, it left him, coin by squandered coin, as his chief attendant mismanaged his assets. Sadly, Shalloak’s business acumen was not inherited by his subordinates.

“You flaming idiot!”

Time and again, he yearned to scream at the man. The chief attendant often agreed without a second thought to deals that, to Shalloak’s eyes, were obvious mistakes. The sheer stupidity on display enraged him to no end. If only he could vocalize his anger.

Even his frustration, however, did not last long. Soon, the life he’d been spared began to flicker as well. Then, lying in a magnificent bed in a room fit for a king with furnishing worth more than a lifetime’s worth of wages for the average person, the richest king to ever walk the earth drew his last breath. He died without anyone watching—no, refusing to have anyone watch him go.

Like that, the story of his life reached its empty and utterly lonesome end.

...And then he woke up.

“Hmph, what a ridiculous dream,” Shalloak muttered as the rattling of the carriage faded back into focus.

In his dream, he’d seen how a life in which he reached the top—the absolute pinnacle of aspiration for a merchant—would end. It showed him the last days of a man who’d worshipped money as his god. For a dream, it felt uncannily real, leaving behind an unpleasant aftertaste of bitter regret.

“It’s all because of what that girl said. Such nonsense...” He snorted, finding comfort in the sound. Nevertheless, the words of Mia Luna Tearmoon continued to echo in his mind. “‘More important than money’...”

Friendship. Loyalty. Trust. Gratitude. These were the things the princess had claimed to hold more value than money. “Mere platitudes. The thoughtless rambling of a child.” He’d discarded those sentiments long ago. No... He’d sold them. They were dirt cheap, but dirt cheap was still money.

Friendship? One gold made for a good deal. Gratitude? He could receive a lifetime’s worth and still be not a penny richer. Those who say that money isn’t everything, that there are things more important than money...were, in his eyes, merely spouting the cliched mantra of sore losers. But...

“That damn girl...” He clenched his teeth. The Great Sage of the Empire was undeniably abundant in both wealth and power, and yet, she shared those beliefs. Despite being a living embodiment of incalculable affluence, she also insisted that some things are far more important than money. Hearing her say those words felt like a repudiation of everything he’d ever lived for. It shook him more than he thought possible.

“I heard something stupid, and it made me have a stupid dream. That’s all. Great Sage? Hah, give me a break. Who’d have thought she’d have such pitiful judgment that she can’t even see the value in such a generous offer...? Tearmoon’s nearing the end of its days if it’s holding a girl like that up as a sage.” He spat out the words like bile. Then, he tried for a mocking smile...but failed. Something in him sounded an alarm. It was desperately trying to tell him that the dream was real. That some time in the distant future, he’d meet a cold, embittered end akin to the one he just saw. In spite of that...

“So what? I’ve lived too long to change my ways now.” He was a man past middle age. Was he supposed to now change his entire life philosophy? It wasn’t possible.

Shalloak had given up countless things in the pursuit of money throughout his life, but the one thing he couldn’t let go of was the “way of life” he’d abided by so fastidiously. The Merchant King, for all his brilliance, couldn’t cut his losses on this one matter. That was why...

“There’s no way I’ll ever accept a way of life that doesn’t recognize the value of money.”

Forkroad was a particular source of his chagrin. Despite being a fellow merchant, the man ran his business with profits as a secondary concern. It was an attack on everything Shalloak believed in. But even more vexing was Mia Luna Tearmoon.

“Money is power. Money is my god. Who does that girl think she is, claiming there are things even more important...?”

She rejected his values outright, and for that, he rejected hers too.

“Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.”

The mercantile gift he was blessed with told him that the famine was no transitory phenomenon; it was here to stay. Consequently, the trade channels through which Forkroad imported foreign wheat would be worth their weight in gold. If they could regulate the supply of wheat entering the market—slow it down just enough to spike demand—there would be a chance for explosive amounts of profit.

Sure, a certain portion of the populace would go hungry as a result, but so be it. News of a few deaths by starvation might even fan the flames of crisis. The fear of death would rob people of their judgment, clearing the way for a bag of wheat to sell for the price of a castle.

As such, a policy of supplying the continent with enough wheat to satisfy demand and keeping prices from soaring past appropriate levels was fundamentally incompatible with his goals. It would result in him loading more food per trip, increasing transportation costs, while simultaneously being forced to sell them for less. And for some strange reason, Forkroad was eager to comply with this absurd vision the princess was trying to put into place. He mentally mocked the two for their folly.

Because he had to. Anything else was simply unbearable.

“Tearmoon’s food self-sufficiency rate is low. That suggests a high degree of reliance on Perujin Agricultural Country. The king there, as I remember, is...”

Unbeknownst to Mia, the next conspiracy was already in motion.