MTLNOVEL chapter 211 - Just Went Up (1)
"Do you have a girlfriend, Instructor? Your muscles are incredible, but… they’re absurdly large."
"How about we have a drink and chat things over?"
"I’d love to have a serious talk with you about life, Instructor. What do you say?"
They were confident that with a few drinks, they could easily sway Gordon.
The problem was, Gordon didn’t drink. And he was so oblivious he couldn’t recognize when someone was trying to seduce him.
"I don’t drink! Alcohol causes ‘muscle loss’! Enough rest! Up! Let’s go again!"
'Damn, with that body, you’d think he’d be able to hold his liquor.'
When their charm didn’t work, the elves tried another tactic. All of them began to tear up with desperate expressions.
"We’re exhausted; we can’t keep going. Let’s rest a bit longer."
"How about just three push-ups a day and half a lap running? We’re really weak, you know."
"Do you have no sympathy for the weak, Instructor? And you’re so young…."
These elves had seen it all in the human world. Their tearful performances were unmatched.
Whenever beautiful elves shed tears, most humans would feel their hearts melt.
Even Gordon, oblivious as he was, started to feel guilty, as if under a spell.
"Uh… should we take it a bit easier…?"
But just then, Ghislain’s warning flashed through his mind.
"If you don’t do it right, you know what’s coming. You’ll be in for special training."
The fear of the Lord’s ‘special training’ snapped him back to reality. The deeply ingrained terror overrode his instincts.
"No! If I go easy, we’ll all end up dead! Get up, now!"
'Damn. Heartless bastard.'
Grinding their teeth, the elves got to their feet. One of them couldn’t hold back and shouted out.
"We’re elves! Can’t we just practice spirit arts? You know, elves are known for spirit arts!"
"I heard you all can’t do that."
'How did he know?'
Still, these elves were not ones to give up. Another one shouted.
"Then let us study magic instead! We’re smart, after all!"
"If we’re being trained as soldiers, wouldn’t it be more effective if we learned magic?"
"Right! Tell the Lord we want to be mages!"
Sitting and studying would definitely be easier. Physical training was just too exhausting.
"Magic? Magic studies?"
Gordon was momentarily speechless. What would he say if they insisted on learning magic?
Even he knew that mages were a far more valuable asset than regular soldiers.
Would he have to stop training them and let them study magic?
But he didn’t like the idea. If they actually studied magic, he might lose his position, and he’d grown to enjoy putting people through the wringer.
After a moment’s thought, Gordon clapped his hands together as if he’d come up with a brilliant idea.
"Watch closely, you fools!"
*Boom!*
*Wham!*
He smashed his fist into the ground with all his strength.
The ground cracked open, and dust flew up.
The elves recoiled in shock, wondering if he planned to resolve this by brute force, just like the Lord.
Gordon lifted his fist, wearing a smug expression.
"Advanced muscle power is indistinguishable from magic."
Magic, really? If the body could handle it, then it’s all magic.
That was Gordon’s concept of magic.
"……."
The elves were at a loss for words.
At first, it sounded impressive, but upon reflection, it was utterly foolish. As expected, there wasn’t a single sane person in this land.
But Gordon didn’t care; he was busy pushing them forward.
"Come on, up! Let’s start again!"
"Yes…."
"What kind of answer is that? Show some spirit!"
"Agh!"
"Good! From now on, answer with that level of energy! Got it?"
"Agh!"
The elves rose to their feet with expressions of utter resignation.
Seduction didn’t work, nor did tearful pleas. No, this guy was so dumb that even talking sense was impossible.
And so, under Gordon’s relentless instruction, the elves’ hellish training continued day after day.
* * *
Fenris Territory now held control over food supplies and iron ore, drastically increasing their influence in the North compared to before.
The issue was, aside from food and iron, they still lacked other resources.
"We’re lifting the restriction on Kabald’s territory. From now on, allow merchants and emissaries to come freely and secure more resources."
The vassals all nodded at Ghislain’s directive.
With expanded land and a growing population, they required far more resources than before.
However, since they had been dealing with only selected merchants, securing resources was becoming increasingly difficult.
In contrast, Kabald territory, with its vast iron mines, was open to the public and posed no such need for secrecy.
As word spread that Fenris Territory was actively trading, a flood of merchants and envoys from other lands came.
"Chief Administrator, you’ve been well, I hope?"
"Your health and vigor seem to improve daily."
"This is a small token of my appreciation. I look forward to your favor."
Merchants flocked to flatter and bribe Claude. Envoys, who had once suffered at the hands of Fenris, wisely kept their distance.
Claude, the Lord’s right hand and overseer of all operations, was someone they couldn’t afford to offend.
And the rumors of him being a ‘lunatic’ only added to their eagerness to curry favor.
Feigning arrogance, Claude replied, "Oh, you know, even if you give me gifts, I can’t lower the prices… but I appreciate your goodwill. Hm."
He glanced at Wendy for approval, reluctantly eyeing the pile of bribes beside him with an envious look.
'Ah, if only those were mine.'
Ghislain didn’t prohibit receiving bribes but did ensure that all such gifts were stored in the territory’s treasury.
‘What’s the point of having a wealthy estate if the Lord doesn’t spend a dime outside of estate matters? Oh, I was truly happy back at the Academy.’
With Wendy standing by for his “protection” (really, supervision), it was challenging for Claude to pocket anything on the side.
Claude glanced at her and asked, "You never take any time off?"
"No."
"No lover? No thoughts of marriage?"
"No."
Such dedication. Such stone-cold resolve. Claude felt a playful impulse.
"How about me, then? I’m a capable slave, fairly handsome too. Don’t tell me you’re already in love with me?"
Wendy glared at him with utter disdain, as if he were a pile of roaches.
"…Just kidding. Don’t look at me like that; you’ll hurt my feelings."
In truth, he was somewhat serious, and her reaction did sting a little.
Shaking off the tinge of sadness, he turned back to the merchant list.
"Hmm, since there are so many of you, let’s break into groups and talk in batches."
The first batch of merchants gathered, and Claude addressed them.
"Before we begin, let me clarify: food and iron prices have increased by 30% compared to last month."
"30%?"
"Why are prices suddenly that high?"
"That’s excessive!"
They knew the general rates, but an abrupt 30% hike caught them off guard.
Claude clicked his tongue, saying, "Can’t help it; our stockpiles are dwindling. Naturally, prices go up."
'Actually, we’re overflowing, but why should I lower prices? If they don’t like it, they can go elsewhere.'
Food production was so high that Fenris’s warehouses were nearly bursting. With plenty of workers mining iron, the territory’s output was abundant.
But the merchants, unaware of this, had no choice but to agree to his terms.
‘Damn, they’re ripping us off big time.’
‘Just wait. Once things settle, I’ll get back at them.’
‘Let’s see how long they can act so high and mighty.’
Grinding their teeth, they nodded reluctantly.
Fenris controlled the supply of both food and iron in the North, so unless they planned to seize it by force, they had no other option.
Of course, not everyone accepted it quietly.
"This is outrageous!"
The protest came from Paril, a middle-aged merchant running a sizable trade network in the North.
Claude casually scratched his ear and asked, "What’s so outrageous?"
"Even if you monopolize resources, isn’t this too ruthless? There are standards, you know! Hiking prices by 30% all at once is overkill!"
"Pfft!"
Claude chuckled at the absurdity.
Standards? If he had any decency, he’d keep those words out of Fenris.
The merchants were being gouged, but not solely for profit.
Unknown to them, some regions received goods at much lower prices. Claude’s approach of handling merchants in groups was intentional.
'This is your karma. Our Lord never forgets a grudge.'
These merchants had once traded with Ferdium, exploiting them heavily for profit.
‘Barely edible scraps were sold at inflated prices… and even small necessities came with ridiculous markups.’
Ferdium’s accounts were perpetually in debt to these merchants.
In fact, Ferdium’s treasurer, Albert, had frequently lamented over the mountain of debt to northern merchants.
Ghislain would never forget how debts haunted her father and the household over the years.
'We're keeping it to a 30% increase because we need to trade. But you’re already on our Lord’s blacklist.'
Ghislain had even procured a list of the merchants who had gouged Ferdium, and Albert eagerly compiled it with meticulous care.
'Once Desmond falls, every one of you will be dismantled.'
Ghislain had no intention of sparing them. Revenge aside, she aimed to unify the North.
Only Claude and a few close confidants knew the plan, so Claude smirked secretly at the merchants.
"No matter what you say, I can’t lower the price, so don’t expect a long conversation. I’m not one for words. When I was young, my father always told me that a person should speak less and listen more—"
As Claude rambled on, Paril clenched his fists in anger.
In the past, no young upstart would dare treat him like this.
But now, Fenris was a major power in the North. Their victory in the recent war solidified their influence.
Furious, Paril interrupted Claude.
"Enough about your youth. Let me speak directly to your Lord!"
"You want to meet our Lord?"
"Yes! I’ve traded with the Count of Ferdium for years. Surely he remembers me! I even met him in Ferdium once."
'So he’s walking straight to his doom.'
Having taken advantage of Ferdium all this time, Paril now wanted to confront the Lord directly. Claude had no reason to stop him.
"Ah, a friend of the Ferdium Count! Well then, go right ahead. Show him the way."
With a triumphant breath, Paril strode off.
When he finally met with Ghislain, Paril complained passionately about the unfair prices.
He even hinted at how maintaining good relations with merchants could benefit the estate.
Ghislain, who had listened without a word, finally responded coldly.
"50%."
"…What?"
"For you, it’s not 30%—it’s 50%. Just went up."
Paril’s face went pale at Ghislain’s words.