The refreshing scent of damp earth and tender plant shoots lingered in the morning air of Verdant Territory.
Just two days after Notch completed the 'Basic Irrigation System', the miracle of the [Tech Tree] manifested its results for all to see. The water trickling through the bamboo pipes combined with the minerals in the sandy loam, stimulating the 'Wild Herbs'—a local flora that had previously withered—to sprout vibrant green shoots. They grew in leaps and bounds, boosted by the +200% yield buff.
Lloyd stood with his arms crossed, gazing at the agricultural plots that were beginning to be covered in lush greenery. A faint smile appeared on his still-pale face. Although his original body was so weak that just walking around to inspect the work left him panting, the success before him made the former World Champion's heart pump with vitality.
"Truly miraculous..." Uncle Ben, the old hunter who had temporarily switched to helping tend the fields, murmured with wide eyes. "Normally, these wild herbs take months to sprout leaves, but after just two nights, they're already big enough to harvest!"
"This is the result of properly balancing the water and the soil, Uncle Ben," Lloyd replied smoothly, though he knew in his heart it was actually the power of the [RTS Master System] .
"My Lord." Notch walked over to Lloyd. The plump Orc, wearing work clothes dusted with dirt and mortar, looked much more agile and capable after his talent had awakened. "The temporary sawmill and the wooden roadside shelter to the south that you ordered are finished. I used a simple lattice structure, but I guarantee a storm won't blow them down."
"Excellent work, Notch," Lloyd nodded in praise. "We only have one day left before Baron Reinhardt's men return to collect the taxes. We must turn these herbs into 'bargaining chips'."
Lloyd took a deep breath before focusing his mind on the empty air in front of him.
"Open [Mini-Map] ."
Ding!
A semi-transparent blue holographic window flashed in his field of vision. A bird's-eye view of Verdant Territory and the surrounding areas appeared, along with red numbers blinking in the corner of the screen.
[Remaining Mana: 16/100]
A dull throb immediately flared up in his temples. Lloyd gritted his teeth, suppressing the pain. He scanned the southern edge of the map, which marked the border of the dirt road connecting the Veltine Empire to the Free Merchant Republic.
Green dots were villagers. Red dots were monsters... and yellow dots were [Neutral Units] .
Along that route, Lloyd noticed a small cluster of yellow dots moving down the main road. They usually bypassed the intersection leading into Verdant Territory without a second glance. After all, this barren and impoverished land had nothing worthy of a merchant's stop.
But Lloyd was about to change that rule.
"In an RTS game, if you want to boost your early-game economy, you just build resource gathering points near your base..." Lloyd muttered to himself, the eyes of a master tactician gleaming. "But in this world, if you want fast cash, you have to lure the 'NPC Merchants' right to your doorstep."
He closed the [Mini-Map] window to save mana and nodded to the giant bodyguard standing behind him. "Frank! Grab the baskets of wild herbs we harvested this morning and follow me to the southern crossroad. It's time to open Verdant Territory's first marketplace."
About two kilometers from the heart of Verdant Village, dust kicked up by wagon wheels swirled in the late morning air. A small trade caravan consisting of three wagons and four mercenary guards was traveling sluggishly along the bumpy road.
On the driver's seat of the lead wagon, 'Marcus Gray', a forty-five-year-old traveling merchant, wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. His slightly plump figure and fine silk clothing indicated he wasn't a low-tier merchant, though he wasn't quite wealthy enough to ride in a luxurious carriage either.
"Master Marcus," the head mercenary rode up alongside the wagon. "The western crossroad is just ahead. If we turn right, we'll enter Verdant Territory, but I suggest we head straight to the next city instead. There's nothing there but starving peasants and ruined walls."
Marcus narrowed his eyes, peering through the sunlit dust at the intersection the mercenary pointed to.
A seasoned merchant like him had traveled this region for a decade. He remembered Verdant Territory as a massive blind spot on the trade map. No goods, no purchasing power, and worst of all... Baron Reinhardt, the regional lord, had set the toll taxes so high that no merchant ever wanted to go near it.
But yesterday, while resting at a tavern in the previous town, Marcus heard a strange rumor from a group of construction workers who had just left the area.
"Would you believe it, Verdant Territory isn't as barren as we thought! I saw an Orc build a bizarre water delivery system, and the crops grew faster than growth magic!"
While most merchants laughed it off as a drunkard's boast, something caught Marcus's attention. His merchant's intuition whispered to him that sometimes... the most profitable opportunities hide in places no one else wants to go.
"Hold on..." Marcus raised his hand, signaling the caravan to halt.
The middle-aged merchant's eyes locked onto a strange structure standing proudly at the crossroad. It was a temporary wooden shelter, but it was built with meticulous precision and sturdiness, completely unlike the wobbly structures usually seen in the countryside. Most importantly, a large wooden signboard was planted in front of it, bearing large red letters:
'Verdant Territory Free Trade Zone: Buying and Selling All Goods. Import Tax 30% Below Capital Standards!'
"Thirty percent! That's insane!" Marcus exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes wide.
Import taxes were a traveling merchant's nightmare. The Veltine Empire extorted them every time they passed through a city gate. A thirty percent tax reduction meant a massive boost in profits for his pockets. But it also meant a devastating loss of revenue for the ruling Lord. No sane noble in the Empire would ever slash their own income like this!
"This is clearly a trap, Master!" The mercenary drew his sword halfway from its scabbard. "Some scummy noble around here might be planning to lure us in to rob us!"
Marcus hesitated. He glanced at his guards, then back at the wooden sign.
But before he could make a decision, a smooth, chilling voice rang out from behind the wooden shelter.
"Robbing a single merchant caravan yields profit only once... but lowering taxes to attract hundreds of caravans brings sustainable wealth... Wouldn't you agree, Sir Merchant?"
Marcus flinched. He peered into the shadows of the shelter and saw a young boy stepping out.
The youth before him had a slender build, his straight silvery-blue hair contrasting with deep blue eyes that shone with an astuteness far beyond his years. He wore a noble's cloak that, although old and faded, proudly bore a family crest ring on his left middle finger, clearly stating his status.
Behind the youth stood a giant of a man with muscles as dense as an iron wall. Frank stood with his arms crossed, exuding a faint, menacing bloodlust that made the caravan horses step back in fear.
"Y-You are?" Marcus quickly hopped off the wagon, taking off his hat and bowing courteously. His instincts screamed that this young man was no ordinary person.
"I am Lloyd Weston, Lord of Verdant Territory," Lloyd introduced himself calmly. He stepped closer to the caravan, entirely unfazed by the mercenaries' blades. "And you must be Marcus Gray, the independent merchant who specializes in the Eastern Trade Route, correct? I've heard of your keen eye from my informants." (In reality, Lloyd just saw his name pop up on the [Mini-Map] status) .
Marcus turned slightly pale. For a noble in this remote land to know his name meant this kid's intelligence network was exceptionally formidable.
"It is an absolute honor, Baron Lloyd," Marcus put on his best business smile. "I was merely passing by and happened to see your sign... Forgive my intrusion, but is the announcement of a thirty percent import tax reduction true? Are you not afraid of drawing Baron Reinhardt's ire?"
Lloyd chuckled softly in his throat, a sound that sent a chill down Marcus's spine.
"Baron Reinhardt runs his region with archaic mindsets, extorting high taxes from ten merchants... But I operate on the principle of 'Volume over Rate'."
Lloyd began explaining his concept with a relaxed yet commanding demeanor. "If my taxes are lower than other cities, merchants like you will naturally want to trade here, won't you? When hundreds of caravans arrive, even if the tax per head is lower, the net total I collect will surpass what those foolish nobles gather in an entire year. Plus, it will turn my territory into the region's new trade hub."
Marcus's eyes widened, his jaw dropping open.
It was an incredibly simple yet profoundly deep marketing concept! Every merchant knew this theory, but it was practically impossible to implement. Most nobles were far too arrogant and greedy to lower their tax rates to win the favor of commoner merchants.
"However, Lord Lloyd..." Marcus tried to find a flaw to test the youth. "No matter how low your taxes are, if Verdant Territory has no 'goods' worth buying to sell for a profit... we will just pass through and leave. You won't gain anything substantial."
Lloyd's smile widened. He had been waiting for this exact question.
The former World Champion nodded to Frank. The giant youth walked over, grabbing a large woven basket covered with unbleached cotton cloth, and plopped it down on the wooden table right in front of Marcus.
"Open it, Sir Marcus," Lloyd gestured.
The middle-aged merchant gulped. He slowly reached out and lifted the cloth covering the basket.
The moment the sunlight hit the contents, the seasoned merchant's eyes bulged. A fresh, invigorating scent packed with pure mana rushed into his nose, making him inhale deeply without realizing it!
A faint emerald-green glow emanated from the woven basket. As soon as the cloth was pulled back, the pure scent of nature, dense with 'mana', hit their noses so hard that even the mercenaries behind him had to take a deep breath.
The basket was filled to the brim with 'Wild Herbs' that were twice their normal size. Their plump leaves were threaded with glowing green veins, indicating the highest tier of quality that every merchant dreamed of finding.
"Is this... magical herbs from the Western Elven Forest?" Marcus gasped. His gold-ringed fingers trembled as he picked up a stalk to examine it closely. "No... this earthy scent is definitely Verdant Territory's local herbs. But... how is it possible to cultivate something of this supreme caliber in such a barren land!"
Lloyd stood with a smug smile, his eyes perfectly masking the exhaustion of his low mana state.
"The cultivation method is our territory's 'trade secret', Sir Marcus," Lloyd replied evenly. "But what I can tell you is... this is only an 'Early Game' resource. If we can reach an agreement, I can supply you with this level of quality goods all season long."
The forty-five-year-old merchant quickly and gently placed the herb back into the basket. His brain was frantically calculating the massive profit margins. The Gray Alchemists Guild in the Capital would pay exorbitant sums for herbs with such a high concentration of pure mana.
"Baron Lloyd, I admit your goods are phenomenal." Marcus adjusted his expression back to that of a cool-headed merchant. "But trade always involves risk. Your territory was just attacked by a monster horde; rumors have spread everywhere. How can I be sure that my caravans coming here won't be eaten by mutated wolves on the way?"
It was a sharp business question. If the territory wasn't safe, merchants wouldn't risk investing.
Lloyd didn't panic. He stepped aside and gestured to Frank's towering figure standing menacingly nearby.
"Do you see my bodyguard?" Lloyd asked. "He just crushed an Armored Bear with his bare hands yesterday. And in a few days, Verdant Territory's 'Fortress' and magical watchtowers will be erected by a top-tier master builder. I guarantee you... the route through my territory will be the safest on the continent."
Marcus secretly gulped as he met Frank's gaze. The oppressive aura radiating from him proved that the young noble's words weren't empty threats.
"Then... what do you want in return?" Marcus probed. "Silver coins? Or perhaps gold coins?"
Lloyd shook his head. "I don't need silver coins right now. What I need is 'Steel' and 'Tools'—as many as your wagons are currently carrying."
The former World Champion was utilizing the [Resource Exchange] tactic. Gold and silver were useless if the base lacked infrastructure. He needed to rush his base upgrades before Baron Reinhardt's deadline!
"Tools and steel..." Marcus rubbed his chin in thought. "I have two large chests of high-quality tools from the Dwarven Mountain Region, along with a batch of raw steel ingots. But if we evaluate the value... this single basket of herbs isn't enough for a trade."
"I know," Lloyd countered instantly. "That is why I am not just selling you this basket of herbs. I am offering you the 'Monopoly' rights to purchase all future batches of Verdant Territory's wild herbs at twenty percent below the central market price... in exchange for you leaving all your steel and tools here, right now."
The traveling merchant choked on his own spit. A monopoly on high-tier goods at below-market prices was the holy grail every merchant lusted after!
"L-Lord Lloyd, you dare make such a massive decision on your own?" Marcus asked in awe. "Are you not afraid of operating at a loss?"
"In the world of commerce, profit margins aren't measured by the price per item..." Lloyd stepped forward and tapped the edge of Marcus's wagon, his eyes flashing with profound depth. "It's measured by the 'velocity' of resource circulation. I take a loss today so that my territory has the tools to produce something far greater tomorrow... That is my vision, Sir Marcus. Will you invest with me?"
The word 'invest' gave Marcus Gray, a man who had spent most of his life trading on the road, goosebumps all over his body.
He had never met a Lord or Noble with such an impeccable business mind and piercing foresight! Most nobles just wanted to hoard and extort, but this youth truly understood the core of building an economic network.
Marcus hesitated no longer. He jumped off his wagon, pulled off his leather glove, and extended his right hand toward Lloyd.
"You are the most terrifying noble I have ever met, Baron Lloyd..." Marcus burst into hearty laughter. "But I like your ambition! Deal! I will leave all the steel and tools here, and I will bring a much larger caravan back next week!"
Lloyd reached out and shook the middle-aged merchant's hand, his victorious smile widening.
Ding!
[Diplomacy and Economy System: Updated!]
[Trade Route Established: Verdant Territory <-> Caraventia Federation (via Independent Merchant) ]
[Resources Acquired: High-Quality Tools x50 Units / Raw Steel Ingots x100 Units]
[Economic Status: Beginning to Recover]
As soon as the system messages appeared, Lloyd felt a heavy weight lift from his chest.
These tools and steel were the crucial keys that would allow Notch to finish the 'Sawmill' and 'Workshop' in time for the three-day deadline!
"Frank, get some men to help transport this steel and these tools to the construction site immediately," Lloyd ordered after Marcus's caravan happily turned around and headed back the way they came.
"Understood, My Lord!" Frank replied enthusiastically. The young giant had just witnessed a bloodless battle that yielded results far greater than swinging a sword.
Lloyd stood watching the merchant's caravan shrink into the distance. The sharp headache returned, forcing him to raise a hand to massage his temples.
"The resources are secured... Now we just have to wait and see how Baron Reinhardt counters this event," Lloyd muttered to himself as the wind blew his silvery-blue hair.
At the 'Reinhardt Regional Capital', dozens of kilometers away.
A gothic-style marble mansion stood proudly in the center of the city. Inside a luxurious study decorated with fur rugs and magical chandeliers, the atmosphere was suffocatingly bleak and oppressive.
Crash!!!
An expensive crystal wine glass was hurled against the wall, shattering into pieces. Bright red wine splashed, staining the landscape painting hung there.
"What did you just say, Rufus?!"
A ferocious roar erupted from the large figure of 'Baron Reinhardt', a fifty-year-old noble with a thick beard and fierce eyes like a hunting hawk. He glared at his trusted subordinate, his fury completely unmasked.
Rufus, the tax collector who had acted so arrogantly in Verdant Territory, was now kneeling on the carpet, trembling uncontrollably.
"I-I just received a report from our informants at the border checkpoint, Lord Baron," Rufus stammered, his voice shaking. "The merchant caravans from the South, who normally pay the toll to pass through our borders... they suddenly changed their routes! They're willing to take a longer detour just to trade at Verdant Territory instead!"
"Verdant Territory?!" Baron Reinhardt slammed his fist on his oak desk so hard it cracked. "That sickly, half-dead brat?! What does he possibly have to attract those greedy merchants?!"
"T-The informants reported that Lloyd Weston announced a thirty percent cut on import taxes! Furthermore, he's offering high-quality wild herbs at cheap prices... The merchants are all flocking there to open a new trade route!"
"A thirty percent tax cut?!" Baron Reinhardt's eyes bulged, a vein popping on his temple.
As the ruling noble of the region, Reinhardt wasn't just angry about losing face; this was a matter of 'survival'.
Emperor Gregor of Veltine had just passed a law increasing tax quotas in preparation for war. Nobles in every region had to submit more gold and provisions to the capital. If he couldn't collect enough taxes from the merchants to meet the quota, it would be his head on the chopping block!
"That foolish brat... does he think undercutting taxes is clever?!" Reinhardt gritted his teeth, pacing furiously around the room. "Doing that will destroy the economic mechanism of the entire region! If other cities follow suit, it will be absolute chaos! The Empire demands order, not some free-market bazaar where anyone can make their own rules!"
Baron Reinhardt stopped pacing. He grabbed Rufus by the collar and hauled him up.
"Tell me, Rufus... how many days are left until Verdant Territory's tax deadline?"
"T-Two days! Only two days left!" Rufus stuttered.
"Good..." Reinhardt sneered sadistically, a vicious glint in his eyes. "I intended to use the law to quietly confiscate his territory. But since he dares to challenge my economy, since he dares to sever my main vein of trade... I will show him no mercy."
Baron Reinhardt shoved Rufus back onto the floor before walking over and pulling his family sword from its mount on the wall.
"Send a fast horse to the barracks! Mobilize fifty heavy armored knights and ten destruction mages!" Reinhardt commanded in a booming voice. "The moment the sun sets on the third day, if that Lloyd brat doesn't have the provisions to pay his tax quota... I will march my army to flatten Verdant Territory into dust, and I'll mount his head on the city gates as a warning to the rest!"
The fires of war and political conflict had officially been ignited!
(End of Chapter 8)