Spice and Wolf - Volume 24 - Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

In the ten years since they last visited Kerube, it had grown into a city much livelier than they remembered. The north side of town, notably, which had been run down at the time, had now steadily developed, and the mouth of the river that separated the two sides of town was abuzz with a festive atmosphere.

Torchlight from the taverns reflected off the surface of the water, and melodies from bards came floating on the wind. If Lawrence left Holo to her own devices, she would surely spend the night here.

But perhaps she was satisfied after running as hard as she could from Karlan; with the fur on her tail mussed, she asked for only one cup of watered-down wine, and simply enjoyed the comfortable autumn breeze.

“…Well, if this isn’t a surprise.”

Lawrence, with Holo in tow, paid a visit to the Rowen Trade Guild trading house, and Kieman, who had sat around a table with other aged merchants, opened his eyes wide in surprise.

“I’m not imagining things, am I?”

It was a late hour where a more respectable merchant would return to their inn to prepare for the morrow. But who should appear out of the blue but an acquaintance who should, at the present moment, be working in the distant, deep mountains—of course even the most seasoned of merchants such as Kieman would be flustered.

“We have urgent business,” Lawrence replied boisterously.

Kieman gradually regained his senses, after which, he allowed them into the back.

He broached the topic just as drinks were served by the errand boys, who had likely been sleeping in their own little corner of the trading house, considering the time.

“Is this about the Twilight Cardinal again?”

“Again?” Lawrence repeated, and Kieman blinked.

“Haven’t you heard? Those two came by not too long ago. It was so sudden, and they came spouting what sounded like nonsense.”

Lawrence wondered if they had missed something in one of Col and Myuri’s letters; he glanced at Holo, but Holo only tilted her head.

Kieman watched the exchange and gave them a knowing nod.

“I doubt they’re writing to you every detail of their adventure. It was the talk of the town for a while around these parts. People say the Twilight Cardinal guided a ghost ship to heaven.”

Myuri had indeed written about a ghost ship with great excitement in one of the letters.

But Kieman’s name had not been mentioned, nor was this heaven business.

What sort of adventures were they having beyond the content of their letters?

Lawrence hummed, and Kieman lifted his glass in a light chuckle.

“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject. “You said you had urgent business?”

“—Apologies. We do. Sorry for arriving so late.”

Kieman smiled. Holo sniffed her drink; the look on her face told Lawrence that what they were served at Eve’s was much better.

“It seems we’ll be working under Eve’s name before long in Karlan.”

Kieman froze—if witches existed and could petrify people with their spells, then this was probably what that would look like.

“…I see. This is appropriately urgent, then.”

When he finally squeezed out his voice, there was a vexed look in his eyes. Yet the corners of his mouth were still lifted in a smile.

“That snake of a woman… Using Lawrence as her insurance, I see.”

Holo, who had been sipping on her drink, glanced up at Lawrence. He noticed.

They were right.

“Kerube acts in secret to obstruct Karlan’s development, all to protect its own trade,” Lawrence orated like a bard.

Kieman inhaled, his chest expanding to the point of bursting, and then sighed deeply.

“Do you understand how much trouble this has caused us?”

The candlelight made him seem so much skinnier.

Or perhaps it was just anxiety.

“How are you getting involved in Karlan, Lawrence? You seem to be on her side, so why have you come all the way out here to see me?”

Though he did not explicitly voice his suspicions that this meeting was a part of Eve’s strategy, Lawrence could see that it was a genuine question, but also the hesitation as to whether or not Kieman could trust them.

“It’s complicated,” Lawrence began. He informed him of the reason why they left Nyohhira, and Kieman was surprised by what happened in Salonia.

“That was you?!”

It was an exciting time, due to the festival, so word of the bizarre city had traveled across the land via mouths of the merchants. And Kerube, too, had likely been watching how things regarding Salonia’s lumber might unfold.

“I had first heard of how things are in Karlan from the lord of Tonneburg and his ranger. And it seems Karlan and Kerube have not been on the best of terms for quite a long time, and it doesn’t seem like Lord Tonneburg has built a very good relationship with Kerube, either.”

The hedged wording was Lawrence’s way of being considerate.

As Kieman’s surprise faded, what Lawrence told him seemed to settle in.

“The Lord of Tonneburg must think of us as bloodsucking leeches or something, doesn’t he?”

“Is Lord Tonneburg borrowing everything from the trading companies in this city?”

There was a slight chance that he proudly said he was not borrowing anything from Karlan.

And who owed who was a very important detail at this stage.

“It is a debt from a long time ago, you see. There is nowhere else to borrow from in this area. And if that lord owed Karlan, then I doubt they would jointly decide to cut down the forest.”

Holo smiled wryly; they had been missing an important detail until now.

“Despite how he carries himself, he is a noble at heart,” she said.

It was clear from the way she said it that it was not a genuine compliment.

“Is he wrestling with a feeling of inferiority because of the unequal footing due to the debt?”

“We can call it a sense of repulsion that comes from an inferiority complex. He probably thinks, Why must I be reserved when dealing with mere commoners?”

Matthias had been rather magnanimous with Lawrence, but that was because he owed him nothing. He would not be the same with someone to whom he owed generations’ worth of debt. Especially not with one his family had been borrowing from for years, with whom he had a humiliating relationship.

“If he came to us, we would gladly talk to him about his debts and his problems with the Church. The lumber from that forest is valuable, after all. But I don’t think he wants us to appraise his forest like that. And I think he agreed to Karlan’s plan because they are on equal footing; Karlan, after all, can get the upper hand by using the lumber as a shield. In which case, anyone would treat him as a very important person. Particularly tempting for an undistinguished lord.”

Kieman shrugged, but Lawrence’s heart ached for the position Matthias had been forced to live in for many years. He was a good man; a great deal of self-restraint was necessary to preserve the forest that could fetch him mountains of gold with the snap of a finger.

“I think it is…right, in a way, that Karlan feels animosity toward us. They often have disputes with our merchants over suppliers, and the flow of goods in this area is most advantageous for us. They are hoping to change that flow by greatly lowering their taxes, however.”

Lawrence was not sure how much of what Kieman said he should accept at face value, but perhaps the relationship between Karlan and Kerube was a lot more like his own metaphor than he originally thought.

A bull in a porcelain shop.

Kerube must be hurting Karlan, but it was not out of malice. Their body was simply too big; they had no personal vendetta against the porcelain.

“Change location, and perspective changes drastically. You, Merchant Lawrence, should understand this.”

But Lawrence was forgetting his basics—he had taken so long to start a fire.

Lawrence cleared his throat and said, “Er, well, I came here to see what sort of picture Eve is really trying to paint. And it seems she has not given us the whole story. But she doesn’t seem to be as vicious as she used to be, so I’m not sure what to make of that.”

The details on Kerube, most notably, were elusive.

How had Eve taken Kerube by the scruff and kept them down?

When Lawrence said that, Kieman narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips into a thin line, as though telling him he was being ridiculous.

“That snake of a woman has only honed her viciousness.”

Lawrence could feel Holo hold her breath beside him.

“What’s worse is that it seems she’ll be stringing us up for a full-frontal attack.”

Lawrence glanced at Holo again. But Holo did not look at Lawrence; instead, her eyes glinted with dark curiosity, waiting for what Kieman would say next.

“She has woven herself such a precise plot, all to harass us.”

“Which means?”

Kieman flattened his wild bangs with a hand.

“Wool. She is going to string us up with her wool.”

Kieman suggested they change locations before continuing the conversation.

He said it would be easier to see the truth for themselves, because he knew it was his word up against Eve’s.

And so Lawrence, Holo, and Kieman walked the nighttime streets of Kerube; they passed a handful of people as they did, and a good percentage of them greeted Kieman, and the patrolling guards bowed politely.

Kieman brought them to a place near the town harbor.

“What is this?”

“The wool exchange.”

The tall brick wall vanished into the dark. It was a rather large place, and the walls were meant to protect the product within. Kieman spoke to the night guard, and they were let through the wooden gates, which led into a wide open courtyard—it was hard to imagine they were in the heart of a cramped city.

“Usually around this time of year, this building is stuffed full of all the wool sheared in the summer, making it look like a thick blanket of snow.”

Holo sniffed the air, drew up her shoulders as though chilly, and came to stand beside Lawrence. Perhaps all her sweat from the run from Karlan had cooled her down.

“And it’s because of that snake that it looks like this now.”

“You can’t get any wool?”

“That’s correct. I don’t know what sort of eye she has for this, but she stands out from the rest when it comes the wool trade. She’s even earned herself a spot as the Twilight Cardinal’s personal merchant, it seems. That means she commands great influence over the wool coming in from the kingdom. The wool merchants here on the mainland say you’ll fall ill if you put her in a bad mood.”

And what was it Eve was searching for in exchange of wool?

“She told us that if we want wool, we will have to lower the price of our lumber.”

Lawrence’s face froze taut halfway into a smile.

Eve had not taken Karlan’s side and was standing opposed to Kerube.

She was agitating Karlan by offering them glimpses of Kerube’s darkness all while intimidating Kerube with Karlan’s plans to expand.

“If we end up in conflict, we will have no choice but to make it cheap…”

The reason Holo could put on such airs of importance every day was because she commanded Lawrence’s attention alone.

Lawrence looked up to the night sky, fully visible, which was unusual for a city, and said, “If that were all, I would think this a common trade tactic, but…” Looking at Kieman, he could tell that was obviously not the case, so he added on a slight concession onto the end.

“You want to ask why we insist on wool? No, you want to know why we have to sell the lumber we get from Lenos to the kingdom for cheap, if that’s the case. Right?”

“Yes. Money seems to sprout from the literal woodwork these days.”

Anyone and everyone wanted lumber, to the point where Eve would resort to schemes.

“If this were just about selling lumber, then we wouldn’t mind where it ended up. But like you said, we have our own reasons.”

In seaside port towns like this, they could easily put their lumber on a ship and send it wherever they pleased if they did not like where they were currently selling it to. The reason Lenos could not do such a thing was because it was not practical to drag heavy lumber across the land.

But Kerube had their own reasons for needing to sell the lumber they purchased to the kingdom. And that likely had to do with access to their wool.

“Is there any need to obtain wool outside of trade?”

Nighttime along the sea was cold at this time of year. Holo hugged herself, so Lawrence removed his coat and placed it over her shoulders.

“Wool is necessary to keep people warm,” Kieman said, idly looking at Holo with Lawrence’s warm jacket over her shoulders. “Through the hard work of the villagers over many years, and the deeds the Rowen Trade Guild have accomplished under my watch, Kerube has thrived. But the city has grown a bit too big as of late.”

Kieman looked out over the wool exchange; he was not the same shrewd merchant he was years ago.

“Even if the town itself develops nicely, there will always be a portion of the population that suffers for one reason or another. And there are people who drift in from elsewhere.”

Unlike Karlan, Kerube was a key location in traffic.

“Do you plan to warm them with wool?”

“Or something like it, yes. Those suffering come knock on this door and are given an armful of wool.”

At last, it clicked for Lawrence.

“Spinning thread.”

Kieman nodded, and Holo looked up curiously.

“Thread spinning does not cost much in terms of labor, and it is a job anyone can do. Anyone can start the very same day—no need to know how to read or write, or even speak the same language.”

All one needed to do was divide the wool, brush it out, make sure all the hairs were lined up, and then twist it into thread. All one needed to work efficiently was the right tools, with or without experience, and anyone could do the work as long as they had a place to sit and a brush.

“It was a lot like the wheat mixing job you did,” Lawrence said, and Holo finally understood.

Wheat brought in as trade goods was placed into storage, but if left alone, humidity would cause it to mold. It was necessary to mix the wheat to prevent this, but that work solely belonged to the women. Anyone could take on the job, even without great strength or reliability, so it was a job reserved those who often found themselves in dire straits.

“Wool has a better margin when woven into thread, so everyone wins.”

Upon hearing that, Lawrence dropped his shoulders, tired.

Eve was most certainly taking a forward, aggressive stance, but the most important thing was that she was looking at Kerube’s footing and forcing them to lower the prices on lumber. With word that lumber, as price for her wool, could just as easily be obtained from Karlan.

And Lawrence noticed one more thing.

“Do you have plans to take in religious refugees here, too?”

Like a shopkeeper asked if new stock would be coming in the following week, Kieman smiled.

“Of course. We are allies of the Twilight Cardinal, after all.”

And Eve was Eve.

Everything she did was correct, following the principles of trade while also helping Col and Myuri, but when all the pieces were put together, everything was undeniably in her favor.

“I am starting to get a feel for how deep trade goes.”

There was no need for any of them to get crafty. If he had the wits about him to move readily when he saw his chance like Eve, then all he needed to was turn all of his right options into raw material.

And so what should they do while they were playing second fiddle to the wolf?

Lawrence said, to confirm his next steps, “We were on our way to Tonneburg in order to talk to its ruling lord, who is stubbornly standing his ground until the very end, so that Eve may continue with her plan. But we decided to change course and we’re visiting without sending official word.”

“I see. To be honest, I should string you up right now.”

It sounded like a joke, but Lawrence was not entirely sure how much of it was a serious consideration.

“Our thinking was that if Eve was up to no good, then we would have to consider if this project should be abandoned for Lord Tonneburg’s sake. That’s what we’ve come to confirm.”

Eve was greedy, but she was not evil.

But it was hard to call her actions just, so Lawrence hesitated.

“I cannot allow that snake of a woman to hog all the profits for herself.”

That could have been interpreted as Kieman’s personal stance, since he apparently saw Eve as a business rival, but there was a pragmatic meaning behind it as well.

That was because there were only so many profits to be made, and all of those profits would be coming from lumber.

And since that lumber would be coming from the Tonneburg Woods, it would ultimately be fastest to whittle away at Eve’s profits if they wanted to save the forest.

“But what is your aim, then?” Kieman asked. “My thoughts are…I don’t see you making any large profits after you make all your visits. If you want to discreetly support the Twilight Cardinal, then the outcome is largely the same, whether you get involved or not.”

Regardless, the refugees would find homes in Karlan or Kerube. Each town needed to take responsibility and put their own minds together to properly prepare for them.

Lawrence’s first consideration, of course, was to protect the Tonneburg Woods for Holo’s sake, of course, but Kieman did not know what Holo truly was; he would not understand.

If he wanted to make sure Eve earned less than she had planned, then he would need to work with Kieman.

Lawrence then decided to rely on a little trick in order to earn Kieman’s trust.

“You know what I learned—the forest’s true value is in its underbrush, which serves as feed to fatten the livestock.”

Kieman’s brows raised as he turned to look at Lawrence.

“I hear it’s a commodity that never finds its way to market shelves. The wheat yield depends heavily on the amount of livestock manure that has reached the fields, and if Tonneburg’s forest were to fall to ruin, then it would affect a surprisingly large portion of the wheat harvest.”

All markets were connected in one way or another; if one market changed its prices, then that would cause ripples. There was quite a distance between Kerube and the Tonneburg Woods, and the wheat fields this area relied on were not the same ones that fed Salonia. But if the wheat crop were to fail in the area around Salonia, then it would doubtlessly affect Kerube, too.

With that exposition out of the way, Lawrence continued.

“Also, did you hear about what happened in Salonia?”

“Salonia?”

“I stopped the lumber merchants from lowering tariffs for the Church’s sake. And as a reward, I’ll be receiving a portion of the wheat harvest as tribute.”

Of course, that was nothing more than a courtesy from a plot of land no wider than the length of his arm span.

But it still was the truth, and it was likely that Kieman had already heard pieces of the affair. He nodded deeply.

In his view, he was starting to see what Lawrence sought to gain by protecting his interests in the wheat harvest.

“And so to tell you the truth, I don’t actually want to talk to Lord Tonneburg, since it will affect the harvest. But as of present, Tonneburg itself is at risk of disappearing completely due to debt and suspicion of heresy. I suppose his decision is that this is better than losing everything.”

Upon hearing Lawrence’s explanation, Kieman shrugged, satisfied.

Lawrence continued, pressuring him further.

“When I heard the outline of Eve’s project, I thought Karlan—a port city struggling to develop further—was putting together a revitalization plan with Lord Tonneburg. And the one they were working with just so happened to be Eve.”

“And that makes us, Kerube, the villains in this situation.”

Lawrence nodded. “But Kerube’s evil shadow is meant to intimidate Karlan and Lord Tonneburg into coming together.”

All that about the rival city Kerube was supposed to be groundless. By mildly voicing her apprehensions and not putting in an ounce of extra work, she painted Kerube as a greedy wolf frightening the poor little piglets.

“In our case,” Kieman started—as any seasoned merchant could do, he could speak and think at the same time. After a pause, he continued, “We want to avoid her one-sided requests at all costs. She always finds the choicest parts of any particular opportunity, trying to get her hands on excessive profit while basking in everyone’s praise and gratitude.”

All he needed to do was picture what would happen once Eve’s project came to fruition. Karlan would be able to expand their range of trade, and Matthias would be able to pay off his debts while receiving protection from the Twilight Cardinal, even solving their problems of faith. And from the perspective of Col and Myuri, those suffering as a direct result of their actions would be saved by Eve’s work. That was because Eve would use the lumber to build houses, provide fuel for heating, and create the ships that would carry refugees to the kingdom.

On the other hand, if Kerube agreed to lower the price of lumber as requested, they would be able to safely obtain the wool that provided work for the needy as they always had.

In terms of losses and profits, Kerube might seem to be the only loser, but Karlan and Tonneburg’s actual situations would not change much.

Karlan was trying to grow, but it was only a little port town as of now. There was no telling if they could support all the refugees they wanted to take in, yet they were doing just that on the assumption that the town would develop. All while recklessly doing away with their tariffs. Tonneburg, of course, was burdened by the danger of the impending disappearance of their forest, and so they decided to sell off lumber, ready to raise more smithies and coal-burning huts as well. They were facing their own challenges.

Eve alone made no risky bets, bore no burden of danger, and only used her wool as a bargaining chip to secure lumber, even earning herself a reputation for lending Col a hand.

None of this was foul play, of course.

Eve perfectly played the part of a benevolent merchant.

“But listen, dear,” Holo said, clasping Lawrence’s coat tighter around her, taking in its scent. “Should we foil her plans? It may be unfair, but there are a number she is helping by doing so, no? I see no reason to go out of our way to trouble them.”

Eve was not trying to cause another’s downfall. Karlan, Tonneburg, Kerube, and the refugees that could no longer stay in their homes, were all technically gaining something from this project.

But Eve’s profits were almost too good. It felt unfair.

And Lawrence had the words to express the unfairness.

“It’s a fundamental principle of trade.”

“Hmm?”

“Reward is the price for risk. Eve is, in that regard, safer than any other player on the field, and earns too much from this. Of course there should be concessions.”

“I hate to acknowledge that I’m losing out, but if she were to list all her profits, then it would be easier on everyone.”

Tonneburg would be more prominent. If Eve lowered the price of wool, then the amount of lumber offered would dwindle, and the effects on the forest would lessen. If Karlan made even more money with the cheap wool, then it would be easier for them to secure the funds to help the refugees coming into the city. That would be the same as Kerube: If they were able to avoid the harrowing cuts to lumber prices, then they would be able to secure that much more wool and fill this empty wool exchange.

“And so if there is one thing we might be able to get Eve on…”

As Lawrence added the sights of Kerube into his mental map, he examined the path Eve took to get here.

“…it’s her connection with Col.”

It was an extremely powerful weapon that she had in her arsenal. With the backing of the Twilight Cardinal, everyone else danced to her tune.

The Twilight Cardinal, however, was receiving great sympathy for his causes worldwide; in Eve’s case, that meant the responsibility of upholding his just ideals.

“We might be able to manage something if we point out to her that she is making too much profit. Does Kerube’s council have any sway in the Kingdom of Winfiel at all?” Lawrence asked.

Kieman frowned. “That is also complicated. We are told that if we are to join the Twilight Cardinal’s cause, then we will benefit from it later, and it’s not unusual to buy products from the kingdom at a high price now.”

“What?”

“The Twilight Cardinal resides in the Kingdom of Winfiel. Buying their goods is a way of supporting their reformation of the greedy Church. It’s a donation, in a way. It’s regarded as a symbol of doing good, and their goods are much sought after.”

Though it might not have been a part of Col’s intentions, Lawrence was aware that the world could be shallow. Merchants, especially, were the type to squeeze profit out of a situation like this.

Eve had a firm grasp on how the people felt and was leveraging her position for all it was worth.

“The city council does not want to oppose that snake of a woman. No matter how many times I find myself livid over her ways, or how many times help for the impoverished is delayed because of the depleted wool, the council only shrugs their shoulders. It’s almost as though they’re trying to get rid of the knots and stress from the whole incident surrounding the narwhal.”

No one thought Eve would become such a big player in this game. Those who remembered how she once acted would be beside themselves with fear.

On the other hand, Lawrence took note of a surprising fact from the way Kieman spoke.

“Are you in charge of the city’s assistance programs in the council?” Lawrence asked.

Like a child trying their best to put up a brave face after someone touches their frostbitten skin, Kieman gave a lopsided smile.

“I looked into the narwhal situation in my own way and vowed to do better. That was how I came to understand the importance of the beggars’ information network.”

It took Lawrence a few moments to understand.

Col had once pretended to be a wandering student and had collected all sorts of valuable information from the city’s beggars.

“I at first thought about it in terms of loss and profits, knowing I needed to deepen my ties with them.”

But it was likely that as he associated with them, he came to understand their circumstances, could no longer ignore them, and wanted to help them, though uncharacteristic of him as it was.

Their disposition, their desire to be seen as cold and intelligent merchants—Eve was much the same—was strangely quaint to Lawrence, who had taken a step away from that way of life.

Perhaps the reason Kieman was so infuriated with Eve’s methods was that because they were similar.

“If you were evil, or if you figured out that Eve was putting together a corrupt plan, then I would have been able to rest a bit easier,” Lawrence said.

Kieman laughed. “I agree. But all those getting caught up in her project are only trying to get a handle on what they need. She’s manipulated that and made it a part of her own schemes.”

Perhaps even all the things that prevented Karlan from developing until now were understandable reasons, if taking into consideration what the lords who managed the river checkpoints and those who oversaw the land of the roads had to say.

“So… If we have to end up going along with Eve’s intentions, and if there is any sort of favor I could ask of you,” Kieman paused, before continuing lightly. “Could you speak with Col and tell him that the fur from Lenos is perfect for protecting oneself from evil beliefs when worn?”

Fur and lumber traveled down the Roef River from Lenos to arrive in Kerube.

If the price of fur were to go up, then they could make up for the reduced price of lumber and still purchase the wool they needed.

But profiting off faith was the biggest reason why Col was fighting with the Church.

“…We have to take you up on your proposal, since you helped us when your bathhouse ran into trouble.”

Kieman chuckled.

Lawrence said to him, “What we are most interested in is the Tonneburg Woods. Can we expect that the growth in trade that Karlan is planning for after the forest is cut down is not a temporary thing?”

This question would not earn Lawrence a solid answer if Kerube was indeed trying to quash Karlan’s project.

But now that Lawrence understood where Kerube and Kieman stood, he could expect a more meaningful response.

“From what I gather, the plan is to build a road through the forest, then set up smithies and coal-burning huts. Is this correct?”

“Yes,” Kieman replied, his sharp merchant’s eyes resting on the dark of the wool exchange.

He continued, “They will profit from the lumber extracted from the forest. But what would building a road through the place earn us? What sits at the end of that path is our trade territory. The only competing product I can think of is the wool we would obtain from that crafty woman. Kerube and Karlan are similar. Trading the same loaves of bread will not help fill our bellies.”

Holo immediately huffed in what sounded like a sneeze.

Lawrence thought it was funny that he used the exact same metaphor. He had probably heard that very metaphor somewhere, from someone in his old trade guild.

“I see.”

“Yes. That is reasonable in trade.”

And if they had no choice but to rely on the extracted lumber, then could they discreetly get Tanya’s help to keep the Tonneburg Woods alive?

Holo said that building a road through it would change the nature of the forest drastically.

They would create charcoal in the burning huts, use it for fuel at new smithies, and ship lumber through Karlan and onward to the kingdom. Kieman was not thinking about how those profits meant all the lumber from the forest would serve as the foundation for the roads, and that the new road would bring about even more profit.

And there was nothing about that that could lead one to reasonably believe that Kerube had any reason to get in the way of Karlan’s trade. They dealt in the same goods, so the merchants naturally decided there was no real reason for them to use Karlan.

They could have managed something if Kerube was evil. But if they were not intentionally sabotaging the project, then there was nothing they could do.

“Logically speaking, we could make moderate use of the forest, Karlan could expand their trade, and Kerube should be able to obtain wool as you always have,” Lawrence said, feeling as though he was being shown a painting of a staircase that continued forever upward.

“Yes. If we manage to lessen the profits of that snake, and make sure she isn’t the only winner, then we could reduce the amount of lumber we plan to sell and protect the forest. Then both Karlan and our Kerube will be able to grow.”

But they could not find a way to accomplish that. Because all Eve was doing was adding to her list of right moves.

What little hope they had could only be found if all the losers here found a way to work together.

“Still, after all this thinking, the principles of trade block our path.”

“That’s your weakness, Lawrence. What happened to the show you put on in Salonia?”

His teasing tone reminded Lawrence of how Kieman used to be.

“That was less about my knowledge and more that as an outsider—I saw things that others couldn’t.”

Kieman nodded, and Lawrence continued.

“Let’s ignore the tie between Eve and Col for now. If she were actively using him for vicious purposes, then we could contact Col directly and have him stop her… But indirectly, it seems like she is using him deftly while acting thankful for no real good reason.”

Kieman nodded, vexed, and said, “If only we had a product that could match the wool.”

In the end, their weakness was being taken advantage of. But since Eve was deftly weaving together an honest deal, that meant she could not reject them for fighting back with honest means.

That said, if there was any product that could compete with lumber, all Lawrence could really come up with was to use Col’s fame and have favorable words written on leather. And that itself was a method so underhanded and shameful that not even Eve would attempt it.

“Can you think of something, dear?”

Holo’s tone made it sound as though she was asking what was for dinner, but Lawrence decided to take it as her honest expectation. And while Lawrence could be considered lucky, he was fundamentally a regular merchant, and technically not even a merchant anymore.

“If I could come up with anything on the spot, I’d be a great merchant in no time.”

This was after Kieman had doubtlessly racked his brains; there was no reason to believe that Karlan or Matthias had not done the same. Lawrence did not consider himself special enough to come up with an idea after so many people from all over had thought long and hard about it already.

“Ohhh… But how frustrating this is.”

Lawrence knew how Holo felt. Ostensibly, nothing was wrong with the situation, yet they could not shake the feeling that it was.

“Ah, yes! The two cities are not on terrible terms like we first thought. Can these people not lend a hand with regards to the forest family’s debt? If so, then the forest does not have to be sold, no? That would mean lumber must be bought from this city, and this place will soon fill with wool. That settles it, does it not?”

Holo gestured to Kieman and the area around him, and Kieman simply shrugged.

Lawrence answered on his behalf.

“That would solve the problems for Tonneburg and Kerube, but not Karlan. Karlan would lose its access to lumber, which is key to its trade expansion, and that means they wouldn’t be able to get wool anymore. But I guess we don’t have to help them…”

But Lawrence recalled how lively it was at the tavern. The optimism in the building was shocking, and it made his old merchant heart flutter.

And without cutting down the Tonneburg Woods, the refugees who came to Karlan for the express purpose of working construction would have nothing to do.

“Hngh…”

Holo seemed scarily close to stomping in frustration.

Benefitting one party would cause another to lose out. Saving any two of Karlan, Tonneburg, or Kerube would cause the third to sink.

And it was Eve who had miraculously built a temple out of all the same materials—she sat upon its roof and sipped her wine, laughing all the way.

Kieman then said, “Let’s return to the trading house. It seems you don’t have much time left, but I think we’ll be able to think better there.”

Holo may have forgotten about the cold in her anger, but they could easily fall ill standing here in the nighttime autumn breeze.

“How much time do you think you have until that snake of a woman figures out what you’ve been up to?”

Lawrence had used the excuse that he was going to talk to Matthias to leave Karlan, and come here.

“We will have to leave before…dawn, tomorrow.”

Kieman nodded. He smoothed down his bangs.

“I used to spend all night coming up with trade deals.”

No one was particularly at fault in this situation.

But Eve’s laughter echoed around them, and being forced to dance to her tune was most certainly vexing.

“Things are the opposite from last time,” Kieman said.

“Let’s try to resolve things peacefully this time,” Lawrence replied.

The men shared wry, merchant-like smiles, and Holo alone, who was not quite part of this, seemed dissatisfied.

The errand boy rushed over with a map of the area and trade contracts that the trade house had a grasp on. When counting all the little things, there were a great number of goods being exchanged, and when they were all put together, it became a whole torrent of commerce.

Kieman was thinking hard to find ways to not get tangled up in all this, now that he understood Eve’s intentions, but it did not seem to be going well. But now Lawrence had appeared, and if it was always the news from travelers that could quickly change the business of a relaxed market, then it was much too early to give up on reaching a breakthrough.

“It’d be nice if we could quickly whip together all the things that the Winfiel Kingdom needs.”

“The one time that snake of a woman puts together an honest trade. It shouldn’t be easy for her to choose not to sell wool if she doesn’t get her lumber.”

This time around, Eve’s strength and weakness was her connection to the honest and upright Twilight Cardinal.

If Eve was doing something villainous, then they could threaten her with Col’s tears.

That would make Lawrence himself a villainous merchant, which meant he could technically reach out to Col and give them orders, and ruin Eve’s trade all they liked, but he could not.

When he pictured the cold stare not only from Col, but from his only daughter Myuri, he had a hard time breathing.

“I know you must have thoroughly looked into the possibility, but why not leather?”

Leather came down the river from Lenos to Kerube along with lumber. They could also easily procure leather, because of the hunting at Bishop Rahden’s village, who they met in Salonia, and the mountain Tanya revived. And if they could hunt deer in the Tonneburg Woods on top of that, then that would then reduce the amount of woodland creatures feasting on leaf buds, and it would prevent the woods from becoming a conifer forest. It took care of two birds with one stone.

“The kingdom is the Twilight Cardinal’s base. Leather is considered a luxury article and does not actually sell very well there.”

“Ah, I see.”

Now that he thought about it, he had heard something similar in Karlan. The southern merchants who dealt in spices were no longer able to sell to the indulgent Church clergy, and now had no choice but to seek out smaller towns like Karlan. Karlan was fighting to make this a business opportunity, but Col’s actions were having unintended effects all over the world.

“We might be able to do something with woolen goods, however.”

“Woolen goods?”

Lawrence began rifling through the mountain of documents; he had a feeling he had just seen a contract about woolen goods.

But what he found was the trade of wool as a raw material, and thread at most. The wool would have to go through several other stages of production to become woolen goods.

“The wool comes from across the sea, is woven into thread here, then immediately shipped back across and sold there… That can’t be easy.”

Thread could be spun anywhere.

“We could at least treat it as goods if we could turn it into semifinished cloth.”

Lawrence looked at Holo when he heard that because she was dozing off after having run at full speed all the way to Kerube, and there was a blanket draped over her.

“Do you not have enough weavers?”

“Every city knows that profits would greatly increase if they could sell wool as fabric, and not just wool, so they want to produce woolen goods. But scarcely does it ever move past thread spinning. Sometimes the ash necessary to remove the oils from the fibers is not available, or they do not have the facilities for fulling or dyeing.”

Several processes were necessary in order to turn wool into fabric. From what Lawrence learned once upon a time, it was common for it to take two to three years to go from sheared wool to being sold as clothing.

“The trickiest part is the lack of water. That is the same reason Winfiel exports unprocessed wool.”

Lawrence knew that dyeing the fabric used up water. But fulling, however, required him to flip through the account books in his mind.

“Fulling… Yes, waterwheels.”

“This area has many wheat fields. The biggest rivers are full of boats, and the smaller creeks will have a mill, and that’s that. And most importantly, large tracts of land suited for wheat are typically flat to begin with. Rivers on land like that often are not powerful enough to properly full the fabric flat.”

The document Lawrence found noted that raw wool and thread were often sent inland, toward mountains.

“But gentler rivers do not require as much work in order to travel upstream, so the merchants that come to Kerube to sell leather stock up on thread and wool before going back upstream. There, where the flow of the river is stronger, they turn the thread into fabric, full it, dye it, and then come back down the river.”

And plenty of taxes and fees had to be paid during this process, including paying those who would take on the transport of the fabric, and thus profits fell drastically. Yet there was an industrial reason why that had to happen.

“Well, that’s why things would be much easier if gold came from the Tonneburg Woods.”

If so, then Matthias could hand gold over to Karlan instead of lumber, Karlan could then purchase wool and keep the economy going without wasting lumber, and Eve, no longer able to obtain lumber from Karlan, would then have to buy from Kerube as she always did.

“Mm… If only we could find a narwhal…,” Holo muttered; she was just scarcely paying attention as she dozed, it seemed.

“All in all, this situation is much like that.”

Everyone was trying to find new profits in this mess—it felt a lot like the divine creating something from nothing.

“Hmm… If we can’t come up with new products, then is there a chance there’s something in the tension between Karlan and Kerube that Eve hasn’t thought of yet? Something akin to political warfare.”

All they really had to do was drag Eve’s profits down.

That alone would lessen the burden on Karlan, Tonneburg, and Kerube, and it would be easier for all three parties to create brighter futures for themselves.

“There must be a way for everyone to work together. But I think our only choice is to come together and negotiate with the snake. But then we would probably end up arguing over the allotment of our shares. I think it would be more difficult to cooperate with Karlan than it would be to simply obstruct them.”

Kieman, who knew the reality of running a large port town, gave a tired smile. Their histories and sizes were on vastly different scales, so it was almost impossible for them to stand on equal ground, and even if they were to allot the profits based on number of people alone, the value of a great trade corporation versus a small alliance of merchants fetched different values, even if their numbers were the same.

Maintaining face was truly a troublesome concept.

Lawrence and Kieman then lit candle after candle and pondered all night long, but could find no particular standout strategy. They did consider widening the scope and getting Salonia and the Debau Company involved, but that failed to provide a better solution.

They were tired, and their time limit was looming.

Though it was still dark outside, and dawn showed no signs of breaking, Holo woke up as the morning church bell, meant to awaken the clergy, rang before even the first bird awoke.

“Yawn… Ah, dear?”

“Mm-hmm?”

Just as Kieman returned from washing his face in the well, he saw Holo folding the blanket, and his shoulders dropped.

“It seems like you have no choice but to go on and pretend like you’re going to speak to Lord Tonneburg, Lawrence.”

“I’ll do what I can to delay this, too.”

Matthias was not interested in joining the project, but he was a smart leader—he understood that his options were limited. Once he saw Lawrence, he would likely agree to the contract and head to Karlan without showing much resistance. Eve was surely confident in her own strategy, so if Lawrence had trouble with his talk, then Matthias would probably start doubting him.

Eve was not only simply making money out of this project. She was also creating a new place for refugees to work and make new homes, so it was hard to call this extension justified.

“Are you heading out by horse?”

“There’s no way to tell for certain that Eve’s lookouts won’t be in or around Kerube, so we’ll be leaving from outside the city.”

Kieman was satisfied with that. Kerube was a large city, which meant there was a sprawl of smaller towns just beyond the city walls—there were plenty of stables there.

“Sigh… Even if we don’t get any results, we could have stood our ground for just a little longer, if this was like the old days.”

Kieman rolled his neck, a hint of pain in the act; Lawrence was the same. He genuinely wondered if he might fall off Holo on the way.

“What do you think the secret is to Eve’s youth?” Lawrence asked.

Kieman gave it a moment of serious thought and said, “Her greed, I think.”

Holo did not ask if Lawrence had made any progress, and Lawrence got the sense that she was not running at top speed.

She could also tell that he was nodding off, so she deliberately landed hard on the ground with each step, keeping him awake.

She offered to carry him in her mouth, but he refused, so he fought off his drowsiness as best he could.

But he had his limits. Once the sky in the east started growing lighter, a warmth greater than that of the sun began to melt into his consciousness, and he almost fell from Holo’s back.

Many a time did Holo glance back to look at him, but nothing helped. She eventually dropped her speed, found a spot blocking the view from the road with hills and sparse copses, and let Lawrence down.

Slightly vexed, she lay on her stomach, poked Lawrence with her nose, drew him closer with her tail, and became his very own bed of fur.

She did not call him a fool. And she understood how sad that made him by the way he wilted.

When they first met, Lawrence did not stop for anything, even when he had gotten stabbed after running around underground catacombs.

Even though back then he could have kept fighting until his dying breath, now the strength in his hands waned, and it was a fight to summon what energy he did have.

As Lawrence sat within Holo’s fur and her sunlike warmth, he thought.

I think it will feel like this when I die.

Wait, I’m not actually dying, am I? came the unwitting question, and he opened his eyes.

It was then that Holo drew her red eyes away from the breaking dawn and to him.

“Sleep.”

It had always been Lawrence’s job in their travels to look after their well-being. But when Holo was like this, she most certainly earned her moniker as the Wisewolf.

Perhaps the reason Holo drank herself silly so often was so that they rarely had to switch their roles.

It was always Lawrence who marched forward in high spirits, dragging Holo along behind him.

They had not switched places; Holo was not looking back at Lawrence, paused in his tracks.

“…”

Lawrence mumbled something, something not even he understood, and Holo narrowed her eyes curiously.

He mustered all he could to speak as he pried his eyelids open, falling shut as he succumbed to drowsiness.

“We’re not…done…”

Holo did not ask with what.

Her lips parted to show her rows of teeth, and she rubbed the side of her nose against Lawrence’s shoulder, as though giving a dry laugh.

And after staring at him for a moment, she turned her gaze into the distance again.

The dazzling sunlight made the ground seem like golden fields of wheat; countless times had she greeted the morning with a sight like this before.

Lawrence had never been there, of course, but he felt like he had seen the sun rise over wheat many, many times in his life. That sensation most certainly came from when, after they had arrived in the hot spring village of Nyohhira, he found himself nuzzled among Holo’s fur, absorbing her warmth as they slept outside.

It was then, as Nyohhira’s bathhouse owners ridiculed them for even entertaining the thought of finding new springs, Holo scoffed and began searching the area, as though looking for a bone she had buried earlier. As she dug with such enthusiasm that Lawrence worried she might change the shape of the mountain entirely, she finally found a spring.

There Lawrence built a bathhouse, there they welcomed their only daughter, and there the boy they had collected on their journey grew into a fine young man. That was where, he knew, his bones would be laid to rest.

Holo might get fidgety over the scent of bones like a dog at times, but he would be perfectly happy if she chewed on his bones.

As those thoughts crossed his mind, he found himself grinning on the edge of reverie.

“Dear.”

Perhaps the reason Holo spoke to him to wake him up because she found that little smile of his revolting.

Though that was the thought that initially crossed his mind, he saw that when he squinted in the bright sunlight that the sun had completely cleared the horizon. He had slept longer than he thought; they would have to leave soon.

“I want to take a bath,” Lawrence muttered.

Holo frowned, deeply. It was as though she was reprimanding him for voicing that when she had worked so hard to keep the same sentiment to herself.

He wondered if they could dig up springs in Tonneburg, too. They had been told that springs appeared with surprising frequency in the plains, so perhaps it was more likely than gold. And when he put that thought together with the map he found in Salonia, then the possibility was—

“What?!”

He jolted upright, and not because Holo had nipped at his head.

Holo’s eyes went wide at Lawrence’s sudden movement, and she craned her head to look at him.

Lawrence looked around, then eventually met Holo’s gaze. Fragments of his memory swirled together like a tempest in his mind. It was in that moment that he suddenly realized he had a treasure map right in the palm of his hands.

Like a drunkard who suddenly sobered and was looking in his wallet, he felt around her front legs.

He eventually found her giant paw.

When they had first met, Lawrence had been paralyzed in shock when he saw her claws.

He wondered when it stopped scaring him. It felt like it was a very long time ago—not long after they started traveling together.

When he brushed her claws, Holo curled her paw in discomfort.

Lawrence looked up at her.

“You were more than willing to use your wolf powers this time, right?”

Her large ears pricked, and her large head whipped to look at him; it was an act powerful enough to create its own wind.

“What did you see in your dreams?”

Lawrence held his breath, adding everything they had gone through since their time in Salonia to his mental map. Behind Eve’s morality hid vast profits.

But it was not only people who hid things.

The earth, too, occasionally hid the flow of time.

“Eve is trying to string everyone up with her wool by being up front and above board.”

Holo sensed something in Lawrence’s tone; her eyes, as she looked at him, glinted strongly in the sunlight.

“Then why don’t we resort to…something more underhanded?”

Holo blinked once, twice, and her tail whipped through the air.

The sun began to rise even higher, signaling the start of a new day.

“I love it when you make that face.”

She rubbed her snout affectionately against his face, strong enough to knock him over; and as he burrowed into the fur on her stomach, he began to chart his plot. Though it was all firmly within the realm of possibility, Lawrence was confident, and he filled Holo in.

This had all started because of what happened in Salonia.

And since it had started in Salonia, the key to its end lay in Salonia, too.

“Yes.”

Holo’s eyes glinted in anticipation.

“Yeah.”

Lawrence could picture Eve’s shock already.

All they needed to do was collect their treasure-hunting party.

Once they retrieved the horse they had left behind, Lawrence and Holo headed for Tonneburg.

They passed into the western part of the forest just after noon; Holo ventured into the trees alone as a wolf to look into all the things she had heard from Lawrence.

Now on his own, Lawrence followed the road he remembered seeing on the map he borrowed from the old priest, but people rarely ever used it; it was in disrepair, and he had to ultimately dismount from his horse and walk.

“I should have just gone in the forest with Holo,” Lawrence said to the horse, and he thought he saw the horse frown in response to Holo’s name. It was probably sick of the wolf’s scent after having her fur tied to its mane the whole night. Lawrence could not help but smile.

After taking a roundabout way through the woods, the sun began to set.

He had walked the whole way on little sleep, so his relief was immeasurable when he saw the large pond in the distance.

On the priest’s map, the lord’s manor should have sat on the edge of this pond—big enough to be called a lake.

There were a few other houses in the area, not enough for it to be called a village, and waterways filled to the brim with water extended in all directions—those waterways fed not wheat, but vegetables. On the way from the checkpoint in which they met Meyer to Tonneburg, they had encountered more and more water as they got closer to the forest, and plenty of those bridges crossing over them had been in sorry states. The reason Tonneburg had managed to keep the forest intact was the natural keystone that was the marshy terrain.

All the roads and fields here sat on uneven ground, and the closer he got to the waterways that led to the lake, he could see the water spread below him. There was a small pier built onto the pond, and two equally small boats were docked there.

If he were to walk here early in the morning, amid the humidity, he would surely lose track of what was a field and what was water in the mist.

The state of the land brought him confidence.

Travelers did not understand the circumstances of the land, and traveling merchants were often in a disadvantageous position when it came to information, but there were times when an outsider could see things with clearer eyes—Salonia was one such case.

And this time was no different.

The way the map had been put together on the parchment caught Lawrence’s eyes. Of course, Matthias, the Karlan merchants, Eve, and even Kieman had looked at that map countless times and used every ounce of knowledge they had to plan their moves.

And though he knew he could not be smarter or outmaneuver them by looking at the very same thing, Lawrence had one advantage.

Specifically, it was what had happened in Salonia.

Parchment was expensive, and so it was not uncommon to chip away at what was already written with a knife to rewrite something. One could then see what used to be written on the page by looking at its backside. When he had been involved with the lumber merchants, the very instance that had started this whole mess, he had realized what had been written beneath the map. Just like this.

That was the memory of ancient land—something modern merchants never once looked at, something Eve and Kieman had no way of knowing.

And it was here that he compared it to his memories of the journey only he and Holo shared.

How had he and Holo found a new spring, something everyone said was impossible, all to build a new bathhouse in the hot spring village of Nyohhira?

When he placed these maps together, he saw the lay of Tonneburg change.

Two towns, brothers snatching pieces of bread from each other, could be brought together in one trading area beneath the great flow of trade.

And it was the Tonneburg Woods that acted as the key to bringing them together—to be more precise, the ancient memory that still remained among the trees.

“Sir Lawrence?”

As Lawrence stood on the path, gazing out over the pond and the lord’s house, he suddenly heard his name.

He looked to see Matthias, on horseback, accompanied by his attendants.

“My lord.” Lawrence moved to kneel, but Matthias raised a hand to stop him.

“How did things go in Karlan?”

Matthias dismounted, left his horse to his attendants, and motioned for Lawrence to walk with him.

Lawrence looked at Matthias and his horse’s feet to see they were all covered in mud—they must have been in the forest.

Perhaps it was his way of saying his final farewells, to burn the image of the lush forest into his mind.

“Eve Bolan, the representative from the Winfiel Kingdom, can be trusted.”

Matthias did not doubt the veracity of the report, but he did seem somewhat discouraged by the news.

Though he knew Karlan’s project would save his territory, a part of him wanted Eve to be such a bad person that they had no choice but to discard the project entirely.

It was wrong for him to hope so, but he knew that he could not both protect the forest and keep his land running.

And so Matthias had placed his hopes on keeping the territory up and running for the sake of his people.

“…I see. Well done,” Matthias said, swallowing Lawrence’s report and letting it settle in his stomach.

Upon seeing his reaction, Lawrence felt relieved he turned down the landowning nobility rights in Salonia. With less to protect, there were fewer troubles he needed to go through in order to safekeep what was most important.

He watched Matthias, sympathy filling his heart as he watched the man order his entourage to rush to the manor and begin preparations for him to sign the contract.

But it was in that moment when far in the distance, a flock of birds took to the sky from the trees.

It was as though the forest itself had been ejected into the sky; a few moments after Matthias’s head whipped to look in that direction, there came a shock wave that rattled their ears. A great howl ensued, like the forest itself was crying out, and the wind blasted over Lawrence and Matthias; the surface of the water rippled. All living things were shaken to their core.

The enormity of it all was sudden, as was its disappearance. Once it passed, it felt like a daydream. Matthias seemed unsure if this was reality and stared out in shock into the trees. The only one calm was Lawrence.

No—perhaps he was excited.

Because he knew that howl was a sign from Holo.

“My lord,” Lawrence said, and Matthias jumped as he turned to look at him. “Eve Bolan saw how rich this forest was and had drawn up a plan for herself. That in itself is not an unjust profit, but she is profiting a bit too much from this.”

Matthias looked to Lawrence, perplexed, then turned an uneasy gaze out toward the forest, then back to Lawrence.

“What do you mean?”

“The reason you decided to join in on Karlan’s plan was because you were thinking of your relationship with the Church, your debt, and about better lives for your subjects.”

Matthias did not want to cut down the forest for simple personal gain.

“But you are running the risk of losing your forest because of it. And one can say the same thing to Karlan as well.”

Though he did not explicitly say that Eve was taking advantage of him, that was how Matthias took it.

That was because he had that indistinct feeling to begin with, and yet he felt ashamed that he could not approach the situation with greater tenacity.

“Why do you feel the need to point this out now, Sir Lawrence?” Matthias asked, his expression tired.

This was the way of the world, and they had no choice but to obey it.

But Lawrence felt rather strongly about pushing aside the ways of the world.

“What would you say if there was something within this forest you could sell for a very pretty penny?”

Kieman had joked about there being gold veins in the ground.

Gold itself was a reach, but there had indeed been a map that pointed to treasure.

No one had been able to find it, so outsiders had found it in outside towns.

“My lord, do you know where I hail from?”

Matthias faltered in the face of Lawrence’s sudden question and his merchant’s smile.

But the reason he could not look away was because he saw the odd glint of confidence in his eyes.

“You are…” Matthias gulped. “…You are from Nyohhira.”

“Correct. I run a bathhouse in a hot spring village. That is because I struck upon a spring.”

Still bewildered, Matthias furrowed his brow and pursed his lips.

“Plus old maps,” Lawrence said, gesturing to the expanse of the pond beside them. “What did this pond used to connect to? And what about now? In another life, the answer to those questions would’ve granted me the right to walk shoulder to shoulder with you, my lord.”

There was the legend of the great serpent, which was said to have laid across the Salonia plains.

When Holo had gazed upon the wheat fields from atop the tower, she had been genuinely shocked to see the remains of the serpent. The way Matthias looked now was a lot like her in that moment.

“Subterranean…water?” Matthias murmured and brought a hand to his mouth. “No. We do not struggle with water here—well, in some ways, we do. Digging up water would not…”

“Water alone? Perhaps not.”

Because this water was different from hot springs. The great serpent, chased underground by the hero, had left behind traces of its existence by way of groundwater, which seeped up here and there. Simply digging up those traces would not immediately gain one gold, no, but all Lawrence had to do was think one step further and consider what Kieman said.

The flow of water was just as valuable.

“Collect the remnants of springwater that bubble through the earth from the remains of the river that once flowed through here. Create a waterway, and make a waterwheel from Tonneburg lumber. And luckily, this land is hillier than the rest of the land around it, which makes it ideal for a waterwheel.”

The wrinkles in Matthias’s frown grew deeper—he was slowly beginning to see the reality of the problem.

“A waterwheel? You want us to levy taxes on grain milling? No—” Matthias shook his head and turned his attention toward the trees. “—for ironmaking? Are you asking us to expand on the smithy to the point we need a waterwheel, then? No, you’re not. You are…for some reason, siding with the trees.”

Kieman likely believed Lawrence’s excuse that he wanted to protect the forest so that he might preserve the right he had to wheat, something he obtained in Salonia.

But Matthias was no merchant. His roots were in the forest.

He understood that Lawrence and Holo held deep sympathy for the woods that was not connected to pure profit.

“Yes, we are. And that is why it would not be for milling, much less the expansion of your smithies. There are ways to use waterwheels that more closely suit the forest.” Lawrence grasped at his own clothes. “Fulling wool. You could make fabric here and sell it. You have a master smith here, which means it will be easy to get the needed ash. You should be able to undertake the entirety of the process right here, from raw wool to the finished product.”

Matthias stared blankly in shock at him.

“There is no need to rush and cut down all of your precious trees, or waste your time building a road among them. Spinning wool into thread, turning it into fabric, and making it into clothes is a special privilege only lands with bountiful water have. And the best part…” Lawrence paused. “…you would be working alongside your old enemies in Kerube.”

Matthias bristled at mention of Kerube. He could not help but be subservient when it came to his debt, but his sensibilities as lord would not let him do so, so he grew stubborn.

“Kerube? But they—”

“Yes. They are arrogant not because they are evil, but because their city is massive. And since prodigious quantity is necessary to be profitable in any trade, they would be a strong ally.”

Eve had done well in pitting Karlan and Kerube against each other. While the similarities in their economic structure meant it was easy to do so, that also meant it was easy for them to allow their interests to align.

She likely thought that, in order to get her lumber, she needed to avoid conflict with the two cities at once. It was from there she started to piece her plan together and eventually arrived at her current design.

“My plan should be able to bring Karlan and Kerube together with one trade. And this forest is necessary to bring them together, so they would be more than happy to kneel to the lord who owns it in order to secure his cooperation.”

Lawrence, who had been playing the part of humble merchant until that moment, took two steps forward.

With surprising vigor he closed the gap between himself and Matthias, and he looked up at him like a businessman with too much political power proposing a nefarious plot.

“I would like you to take the initiative on this project, my lord.”

Overwhelmed, Matthias stared down at Lawrence, but he was, at the end of the day, a ruling lord.

Strength returned to his eyes, and he squeezed his voice out from between clenched teeth. “What do you want in return?”

No merchant would propose such a plan without asking for something in return.

This was his second time asking that question. The first time, Lawrence answered for others’ sake. But this time, he decided it would be all right to answer for his own personal desires.

“I have two requests.”

Matthias seemed surprised he did not immediately name his price in gold pieces, yet he jerked his chin, urging Lawrence to continue.

“First, a set of clothes.”

“Clothes?”

“Karlan seems to be planning on attracting merchants from the south to its harbor. So I want you to use their connections and the fabric you make here in the forest to make one set of women’s clothing in line with what’s fashionable in the south.”

Matthias looked at Lawrence dubiously, but then recalled who his traveling companion was. Still, he managed a slow nod, despite his lingering doubt, and said, “And your second?”

“My second is that you say this plan was yours, my lord.”

“…?”

Matthias seemed like he had misheard Lawrence, and so Lawrence repeated himself.

“I want you to claim this plan of which I speak as your own. That would mean all the profits—everything—will go straight to you, and you will be in control over the entire operation.”

“I—I…”

Matthias looked at Lawrence as though he had said, I will give you money if you purchase this product.

“Do you think it strange? Remember, my lord, you are a man who rules over Tonneburg, while I am but a humble bathhouse owner. It is a small price to pay in avoiding Eve’s displeasure.”

Matthias’s mouth opened, then closed again.

“The price of being your scapegoat, I see.”

A proud lord would have taken blade in hand and reprimanded Lawrence for being disrespectful.

But Matthias took the friendly explanation well.

“…Do you mean to say you do not have the status to execute this plan, even though you are the one that thought of it?”

“I can’t eat a picture of bread, after all.”

Matthias still seemed to think it unfair, and the frown remained on his face.

Nobility valued face—he could not stomach accepting charity from a commoner.

“But I do have one last request, if you’ll humor me,” Lawrence said.

Matthias looked up at him.

“If my idea saves the forest, then will you promise me you will protect one sapling and ensure its growth, no matter what happens?”

“…What do you mean?”

“Allow it to grow through my children’s era, my children’s children’s era, and onward. Something that will fill them with pride knowing I helped protect this forest.”

Not gold, but honor.

That struck an easy chord with Matthias.

It was normal for merchants tired of pursuing gold to look for honor.

“And you are satisfied with this?”

The disrespectful traveler shrugged, and smiled.

The lord of the forest closed his eyes and ran a hand over his beard. Perhaps in his mind’s eye, he was picturing Eve, the one who pushed for the project to cut down his forest, clad in her ostentatious clothing.

She had been so imposing to the point that Matthias rushed home to the trees in fear.

But though he might not know much about money, honor was home for him.

He straightened himself, as though declaring as much, and looked at Lawrence like a well-trained hunting dog.

“How could those who tremble at the thought of wolves live in the forest?” he said.

If Lawrence were the sort to get easily carried away, he would have spoken up in the brief pause.

“Now then, what sort of preparations do we need to do? Do we need Meyer?”

He now had a treasure hunting ally.

And so, Lawrence told Matthias how they were going to topple Eve’s grand temple.

Once Lawrence was finished telling Matthias everything, he knew he had to send word to Kerube immediately.

But he was much too tired to head there himself, and he could not simply rely on Holo to do it.

And so he wrote a letter in Matthias’s manor, and left it in the hands of one of his servants.

Afterward, Matthias began to prepare a feast, as though it were the obvious next step in the process, but Lawrence firmly turned him down. What he told Matthias was that he needed to return to Karlan right away to begin his preparations, but the real reason was to reconvene with Holo. He knew what sort of look she would fix him with if he were to leave Holo in the woods as she investigated the old remains of the river while he ate his fill of delicious food and slept in a silk bed.

And so, as the sun started to set, Lawrence set off as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. When people’s homes grew distant, he felt an overwhelming presence from among the trees.

He glanced into the dim of the wood to see the shine of red eyes.

“It went well.”

Once the words left his mouth, the large presence vanished, and out emerged a girl, cradling her clothes. If one who did not know either of them saw this happen, they might think her a rambunctious girl who went bathing in the waters of the forest.

“You could stand to have a little more modesty,” Lawrence said, exasperated, and Holo only shrugged her slim shoulders.

“More importantly, dear.”

Holo quickly threw on her clothes and strode toward Lawrence. And as he dismounted the horse, she stood on her toes and grabbed his growing beard.

“You have something to tell me, no?!”

The horse whinnied, shocked by the anger in Holo’s voice, but Lawrence knew this would happen, so he was not surprised at all. She was most certainly angry about what she had overheard of his conversation with Matthias.

“…Come on, my beard’s not as sturdy as your fur,” Lawrence said, rubbing his stinging chin. Holo looked at the horse, at Lawrence, then extended both arms toward him, frown on her face.

She was asking him to pick her up and put her on the horse’s back.

The lamb, the wolf’s loyal servant, placed the wisewolf on the horse’s back, then walked as he led the horse.

“I am not quite sure what I should be angry about first,” she said. The moment she settled on the horse’s back, she stuck her hand in their things, and pulled out some jerky.

“Clothes?”

There was quite a lot of extra meaning in the way she said that.

First was her wolflike logic—a nice outfit would never fill her stomach.

And the other was the likelihood that the clothes would not be for her.

“…If we say we have some clothes that would be popular in the south, Myuri might come back and visit.”

Lawrence knew that it would ultimately get dragged out of him if he were to remain silent about it, so he behaved and confessed.

Holo gave such a heavy sigh that it almost bent the horse’s back.

“You fool!”

She said it with such fervor that it almost brought Lawrence back to when they first traveled together.

“We’ll have to ask Meyer for tasty goodies from the forest. I’m sure he’ll put something together for you,” Lawrence said, offhandedly.

“Then you will be asking for it,” Holo confirmed.

There was one other reason why Holo had yanked Lawrence’s beard in anger.

That much he knew.

“And, well, I know you don’t want an all-out confrontation with Eve.”

It sounded like an excuse, but it was also the truth.

If Eve were a clear-cut villain, then they would break into her lair and start a fight with “We’ve seen through your tricks!” But that was not what was happening. Considering how it felt like Eve herself had mellowed over the years, it did not feel very nice to go out of their way to undermine Eve’s plan to make money, especially since it was not technically immoral.

“I actually find it surprising that’s the part you’re having the most trouble with.”

Even though it was Lawrence who had come up with the miracle plan, he had placed all the achievements, profits, and everything else into Matthias’s hands.

Holo thought highly of Lawrence at the end of the day, so she was perhaps frustrated that he was not getting the proper recognition he deserved.

Lawrence opened his mouth, ready to tell his beloved wife that he was perfectly happy with this outcome.

“This was my opportunity to brag about how clever my little lamb is!”

That reminded him that Holo had bluntly invited Eve and all the rest to their wedding so that she could show everyone how happy they were. Lawrence himself had not been entirely sure how he wanted to approach that whole situation, so it was indeed a very Holo mentality.

“But this is Eve. I’m sure she’ll see through whatever we decide to hide.”

And yet all he could really do was pray that when she saw him desperately trying to hide behind Matthias, she would show him no hostility and sense his faint traces of guilt.

“I want Eve to stay on Col and Myuri’s side, too,” Lawrence said.

Holo faced forward and sighed. “You truly are a fool.”

“Hmm?”

“She will not be angry. She would be delighted, in fact.”

“What…?”

Lawrence could glean only a little from the flat expression on Holo’s face.

Eve would be an excellent opponent if she were an enemy who could fight back.

Lawrence knew that could be the case if money were not involved, but expecting that from her while choosing to take on an all-out confrontation was a bet that did not quite match the odds.

“Well. You know I will be quite cross if it seems you two are enjoying your fight.”

Holo swished her tail, and the horse turned to look uneasily at the wolf on its back.

“You’re overestimating me,” Lawrence said wryly.

She shot him a cold look. “Do you mean to tell me that who I have chosen is not that impressive?”

You must be a merchant worthy enough to stand side by side with the wisewolf.

He had a feeling she had said that to him once.

“And yet you’d get jealous if I decided to fight Eve openly,” Lawrence retorted.

Holo nodded deeply. “Quite a predicament.”

That’s called being selfish, Lawrence thought but did not say. Instead, he said, “And I’ve worked through these predicaments hundreds of times. It’s why I’m here.”

Holo glanced at Lawrence, eyes wide in surprise, and then chuckled. “How arrogant of you.”

The smile on her face was genuinely delighted, and Lawrence naturally smiled in turn.

“It’s not like I’m totally confident in this turnabout plan, though.”

“Mm?”

“One part of this plan involves someone everyone acknowledges as an old enemy of Eve’s, remember?” Lawrence said as he tugged on the reins, commanding the horse to walk.

The reason why Eve stepped down when Col discovered her plot, and the reason she found it amusing when Lawrence tried to stand in her way as an enemy, was because she and Lawrence were in fundamentally different positions.

But Kieman was a practicing, big-name merchant, just like Eve, and Lawrence could tell they had bickered with each other over the strait between the kingdom and the mainland, and had double-crossed each other countless times.

Perhaps it was, in a way, a sign of closeness, but the question was whether or not Kieman could stifle the joy he would doubtlessly get from knocking the fat roll of bread from Eve’s hands just as she was about to help herself to it.

“Heh-heh. I cannot wait to see her stamping her feet in frustration. It will be fine.”

The moment Holo learned she could not act as she wished due to Eve’s thorough plan, she herself had stamped her feet in frustration. Her moods had been up and down, going through anger and vexation and joy, but she herself had said that every shift in her emotion was enjoyable.

It was so much like a wolf to delight in running at full speed ahead.

Perhaps Kieman and Eve were the same.

“I just want things to resolve peaceably,” said the sheep, tired.

Holo then chuckled and patted the horse’s back, asking him to join her.