The morning sun climbed higher over the bustling market square of the Falcon Duchy, casting sharp beams across the crowded stone pathways where citizens, travelers, and curious spies had gathered to witness the bizarre spectacle of the estate’s sudden “commercial revival”.
Amidst the low hum of skeptical chatter and whispered mockery, a sharp, resonant voice suddenly cut through the air.
“Step closer! Step closer and witness the bounty of the Falcon house!” a senior merchant of the Falcon network shouted, standing atop a raised wooden staging platform outside his newly opened storefront.
With a theatrical flourish, he flung open his ledger and bellowed out a pricing structure that instantly brought the entire square to a stunned, dead halt.
“One pound of pure, refined sugar for two hundred silver coins! One pound of pristine salt for one hundred and twenty silver coins!”
The declaration hit the crowd like a physical shockwave, followed immediately by an explosion of wild, disbelieving laughter.
To fully grasp the sheer absurdity of the statement, one had to understand the iron mathematics of currency across the Domus Empire: one gold coin was valued at exactly one thousand silver coins, and one silver coin was subdivided into one thousand bronze coins.
Traditionally, coarse, unrefined, and heavily bitter rock salt was an expensive commodity, frequently commanding up to a full gold coin—one thousand silver coins—for a modest quantity, making it a luxury item heavily taxed and tightly controlled by the Great Merchant Houses.
For this merchant to boldly claim he was selling salt for a mere one hundred and twenty silver coins—and sugar at two hundred silver coins—sounded not merely ambitious, but like an outright, desperate scam.
The gathered crowd assumed it was the final, pathetic trick of a collapsing merchant faction trying to swindle a few desperate coppers from fools before the bailiffs seized the store.
Yet, human curiosity is a powerful force, and the sheer audacity of the pricing drew people forward in droves.
Within minutes, a massive, densely packed crowd of citizens, skeptical guild agents, and mocking speculators surged toward the storefront, eager to see what kind of worthless, adulterated dirt the young, stupid duke was attempting to palm off on the public.
Instead, the moment their eyes landed on the open crates, the mocking jeers died instantly in their throats, replaced by a collective, breathless gasp of absolute shock.
There was no dirt.
There was no grey, unrefined residue.
Resting inside the polished wooden bins were products of an impossibly high, breathtaking quality that none of them had ever witnessed in their entire lives.
The salt did not look like the dull, grey-brown chunks pulled from southern mines; it was a pile of sparkling, crystalline granules so flawlessly pure and blindingly white that it seemed to catch and refract the morning sunlight like crushed diamonds.
Beside it, the sugar sat in massive, uniform loaves of crystalline perfection, gleaming with a translucent, crystal clarity that looked more like magical glass than food.
The atmosphere in the square shifted from amused skepticism to stunned, electric silence.
Remembering the precise, strict instructions transmitted through the Vespera Network, the merchant did not wait for the paralyzed crowd to recover their wits.
Keeping a calm, confident smile, he reached into a crystal bowl and pulled out small, pristine tasting samples, distributing them freely to the astonished onlookers in the front row.
An elderly citizen, his hands shaking slightly, took a tiny pinch of the blindingly white salt and placed it on his tongue.
Beside him, a young artisan tentatively touched a crystal of the sugar to his lips.
A fraction of a second later, both men froze, their eyes widening to the size of saucers.
A wave of happily shocked murmurs rippled through the immediate circle as others followed suit, tasting the goods.
The sugar melted instantly on the tongue, releasing a burst of pure, unadulterated sweetness that made the finest raw honey taste like muddy water by comparison. This chapter is updated first at novelping.com.
The salt dissolved cleanly and smoothly, entirely devoid of the harsh, stomach-turning bitterness that characterized every standard batch produced across the empire.
It was clean, rich, and intensely savory without a single trace of mineral impurities.
“By the Earth Mother…” the elderly citizen whispered, his voice trembling with religious awe as he stared at the crystal in his hand.
“It’s… it’s pure.”
The illusion of a scam shattered into a million pieces in a single heartbeat.
Panic, greed, and ravenous desire surged through the gathered multitude.
The skepticism vanished entirely, replaced by a wild, stampeding rush as the crowd surged forward, shoving and shouting to reach the counters.
People threw bags of silver coins onto the mahogany wood, screaming orders for five pounds, ten pounds, twenty pounds of the miraculous white salt and refined sugar.
The merchant and his frantic clerks worked with feverish speed, measuring, weighing, and bagging the goods as coin pouches piled high across the counters.
The demand was so violent, so overwhelming, that people began climbing over one another just to secure a share of the unprecedented commodities before the bins ran empty.
The frenzy did not slow down.
It fed upon itself, spreading like wildfire through the streets of the Falcon Duchy as word of the impossible quality and low prices flashed through every alley and marketplace.
Within half a day—long before the midday sun had reached its zenith—the massive, overflowing stocks that had filled the shop’s warehouses were completely, utterly exhausted.
Every single crate was empty, every bin swept clean, leaving behind only towering mounds of heavy silver coin pouches resting upon the polished counters and a stunned, breathless crowd of buyers clamoring hopelessly for more.