Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 11 - Chapter Pr

Prologue

The sun was just starting to rise in the east, casting a shadow over the earth. This was a hidden village, deep within the woods in the eastern regions of the Wortenia Peninsula. Despite the early hour, ten carriages were lined up in front of Nelcius, ready to depart. A large number of figures were moving around them busily.

Gathering the stock we agreed on was a bit harder than expected, but we should still make the delivery on time. He shouldn’t complain, then.

They were steadily loading wooden crates onto the carriage. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Nelcius looked over his tribesmen as they went about their work. Crossing his arms, he nodded in satisfaction.

The image of a man with a tanned face entered Nelcius’s mind. The man always smelled like the salty breeze. He had been dispatched to the city of Sirius by the Christof Company—the only firm Baron Mikoshiba allowed inside the Wortenia Peninsula.

His name was Alejandro Rosso. He was the village’s point of contact for trade. Since his last name was Rosso, he was probably some kind of noble or knight, or perhaps he had been born to an influential merchant family.

Alejandro was currently putting his considerable skills to use in Sirius, under Baron Mikoshiba’s rule. He wasn’t officially a retainer of the Mikoshiba barony, but he was as trusted as its oldest members, Boltz and Gennou, who were often left to manage the domain in the baron’s absence.

Nelcius, however, was quite cautious of Alejandro. The demi-humans, Nelcius among them, saw humans as their enemies. In the past, mankind had persecuted them, driving them to live in hiding in this cursed land.

Four hundred years ago, the Church of Meneos decreed that humans were the superior species and should govern this world. Their teachings spread throughout the continent and resulted in a holy war. Being on the opposite end of the western continent compared to the Church of Meneos, very few people in Rhoadseria truly clung to those religious beliefs. However, it significantly affected places near the holy city of Menestia, like the southern kingdoms and the Holy Qwiltantia Empire.

The fact that Dilphina had been captured by pirates in the past demonstrated that elves in particular were seen as valuable commodities in human society. Thankfully, Ryoma Mikoshiba had freed Dilphina from captivity, but normally, Nelcius would have never seen his daughter again.

But even though Ryoma, the man who’d saved his daughter, had instructed him to work with Alejandro, Nelcius couldn’t easily trust him. Indeed, during their first meeting, their exchange had been awkward, though Nelcius hadn’t been hostile toward him.

Well, while I can’t believe in him, I can trust him to do his job—so long as we honor our agreement and keep bringing profit to the Mikoshiba barony.

Nelcius heaved a deep sigh. Alejandro wasn’t the kind of person to show any ill will toward the demi-humans, and Nelcius had learned to trust him based on their interactions thus far. He couldn’t call Alejandro a friend, but he could see him as an acquaintance or an important business partner.

That wasn’t to say that Alejandro ever compromised when it came to business, though. He was a seasoned sailor and a skilled merchant and was extremely critical when it came to deals and promises. He would penalize even Nelcius, one of the demi-humans’ leaders, for breach of contract if they were late on a deadline or didn’t secure enough merchandise.

It’s unlikely he’ll cease trading with us, since that would hurt Ryoma Mikoshiba as much as it would hurt us. Given everything that’s happened so far, I doubt he’ll do what the rest of the filthy humans infesting this land would do and demand we hand over young elven girls.

Excepting that, however, no demand was off the table.

They could demand we increase the amount we export, or tilt the exchange rate unfavorably for us. That wouldn’t be that bad...but I doubt that’s all they’d do.

Nelcius scowled, imagining that undesirable outcome. Increasing the size and scope of their exports wasn’t a bad thing, and Nelcius was interested in doing that. But he wanted to wait until the village held the initiative when it came to trading. After all, increasing the quantity of exports was easier said than done. Their merchandise wasn’t that easy to produce.

Firstly, the elves produced high-quality medicine. Because of its quality and rarity, it was valued in human society as a nostrum. In order for it to retain its efficacy, it required techniques known only to the elves. Many of them used herbs and the entrails of monsters native to Wortenia, which had to be dried and condensed as soon as they were collected.

For the time being, though, the village was able to meet its trade quotas with its stores of existing materials and freshly farmed ingredients. Still, their stocks had dwindled to the point where they had to be cautious with their next few deliveries.

In addition to medicine, elven thaumaturgists could apply powerful endowed thaumaturgy on a level a human practitioner could never hope to achieve. They used this to produce tools that made their everyday lives easier. They could possibly sell those items alongside their medicine, but they took a long time to create. The entire process, from the fashioning of the tools to the application of endowed thaumaturgy, took several weeks and required highly advanced techniques to apply a truly powerful enchantment.

Of course, they could compromise and produce it on the same level as a human practitioner, which would greatly shorten the amount of time needed to do it. But that would defeat the purpose of trading with the elves. It was because their products were well above the quality of anything a human could produce that Ryoma Mikoshiba saw them as useful.

At present, Nelcius was able to convince the other chiefs to cooperate with Ryoma despite their misgivings about mankind. As a result, their elven craftsmen were all fully mobilized to produce new goods for trade. The sad reality was, however, that they could at most produce two hundred suits of armor a month. Compared to the powerful enchantments needed to produce armor, the tools used for everyday life were far easier to make. They weren’t made for war, so the thaumaturgical seals weren’t as complicated.

Yet the sum Ryoma requested of them through Alejandro was simply too large.

At least a thousand a month, and more if possible... I suppose he would need that much to achieve the future he’s envisioned. I can’t very well fault him for the demand.

Right now, Ryoma’s domain only contained the limited lands of the Wortenia Peninsula, but given time he would surely march his army on the northern regions of Rhoadseria. During Ryoma’s absence, Boltz had been left in charge of the peninsula. As Count Salzberg and the ten noble houses of the north attempted to gain information on the goings-on in Wortenia, Boltz had acted to prevent their infiltration.

Thankfully, the Igasaki clan had set up a defensive perimeter around the fortress at the peninsula’s base. Thanks to that, no information had leaked. Still, this wasn’t a favorable position. Since Ryoma had returned from Xarooda, he would eventually go on the offensive. And Nelcius knew that day was fast approaching.

And if that happens, Sirius will prosper. Its population will grow, and it will consume more resources.

Even Nelcius, who was praised and feared among the elves as the Mad Demon for his combat prowess, could see that Ryoma was a talented, transcendent warrior. His political skills were impressive as well, and he didn’t fear stooping to any means to achieve his ends.

The Mikoshiba barony would eventually rule Rhoadseria’s north—Nelcius knew this for a fact. And when that came to pass, Ryoma’s demands from the elves would only grow larger.

We need just a little more time. Somehow...

If they were to continue trading with Ryoma, they would have to increase their production rate. Nelcius was aware of this and had begun taking measures to ensure this would happen. Specifically, he was training more apothecaries and thaumaturgists skilled with endowed thaumaturgy. Since all industries in this world were done by hand, the only way of increasing the production rate was by training more craftsmen.

But his efforts were still only halfway done. Given a few more years, things would be fine, but if their next orders were to suddenly increase, it would cause a considerable strain on the clans. They would have to work ceaselessly, even forgoing sleep. If they were penalized now with a change in the bartering rate, it would make things even worse.

But the most frightening prospect is if they were to ask us to divulge our secret techniques.

That was the one thing Nelcius couldn’t tolerate. Giving away their guarded secrets would leave them with one less reason for Ryoma to treat the elves preferentially. The elves had considered sharing their secrets with the Mikoshiba barony at some point in the future, but that was a long way off.

For now, we need to make sure these carriages make it to Sirius safely.

Nelcius’s current task was to ensure their trading with Sirius continued smoothly. This wasn’t just for his own tribe’s profit; he wanted to see to it that all the elves on Wortenia could live peacefully. If trade were to cease for some unforeseen reason, Nelcius would be greatly criticized during the next clan chief meeting. It could even lead to bloodshed among the elves.

Did he anticipate this?

Before Ryoma left on the expedition to Xarooda, he and Nelcius had struck a deal. It wasn’t an official business transaction—no documents were signed—but it was a verbal agreement, a trade meant to bridge the antagonistic gap between mankind and the elves.

In the beginning, their trade was simple, just various sundries. It was so small in scale that it was presumptuous to call it “trading.” But a year and several months had since passed, and the scope of their exchanges was growing. They would carry wares to Sirius and return with merchandise for their village.

By now, those imports had become an indispensable part of the elves’ daily lives. Even the chiefs, who at first criticized Nelcius’s actions and called them shameful, were now demanding more goods from the human city. Some clans were even stepping up to trade on their own, despite the fact that Nelcius’s warrior tribe was the only one currently allowed to trade with Sirius. This was a natural development. Life in Wortenia was severe and taxing; their home was a peninsula infested with dangerous monsters. The food and luxury items brought in from Sirius had become necessities.

The elves’ diet consisted of the flesh of monsters living in the vicinity of their village. Their meat was by no means appetizing, however. Most monsters were carnivorous by nature, and their flesh was hard and sinewy. Worst of all, it had the thick stench unique to a carnivore’s flesh.

Seasoning and spices could make it more palatable, but those luxuries were hard to come by in the forests of Wortenia. One example was salt—the most basic of seasonings. It was essential to one’s health, and that applied to demi-humans as well. But there were very few salt veins in the peninsula, and most of them were deep in towering mountains surrounded by thick forests. Traveling across Wortenia, unexplored and undeveloped as it was, was already a dangerous feat, and those veins were in the most secluded regions of the peninsula. Worst of all, those regions were essentially ruled over by dangerous monsters who’d made these sprawling, hidden places their territories.

Ryoma had told Nelcius about how Count Salzberg was illegally mining salt from a vein on the peninsula. But that vein was on the foot of the mountains near the base of the peninsula, and the distance between it and Epirus was short. Monster attacks were also less likely in that region. By comparison, the elves’ territory was positioned deep within the peninsula, so obtaining salt was a much greater ordeal.

Mining a salt vein wasn’t simple work either. Moving in a large group would provoke the monsters, so only small groups could travel through the undeveloped regions. Assuming they made it to a salt vein, they couldn’t excavate the rocks using verbal thaumaturgy since that would aggravate the monsters. In addition, before they began trading with Sirius, the elves didn’t have any horses, so they had to carry the salt back by hand.

Because of these factors, the elves could only gather a limited amount of salt. In some places in Ryoma’s world, like Africa, salt was once used as a form of currency. Similarly, for the elves of Wortenia, salt was a treasure worth more than gold. As such, the amount they used for their daily meals was greatly limited.

Pepper and other spices didn’t grow in the peninsula at all, so the only way to obtain them was through trade with other cities. Since the elves didn’t have any contact with humans, they couldn’t import them. Their only options were to sprinkle a little salt on their meat or simply boil or fry it, but neither of those made the food very palatable. For comparison, Pireas had to import salt, so it was used sparingly and their cuisine was minimally seasoned, but the elves of Wortenia made do with even less.

It was said that ingredients were what brought out the taste, but when the only thing one had to work with was thick, smelly meat, cooking seemed impossible. Personally, Nelcius didn’t care much for flavor. So long as it filled his stomach, any food would do. But that wasn’t to say he had no sense of taste at all. He didn’t eat this kind of food by choice.

Meat wasn’t even the elves’ preferred diet to begin with. Before the holy war that took place four hundred years ago, the elves ate fruit foraged from the forests and vegetables they raised in the fields. They mostly hunted animals to gather materials for medicine and tools.

But they’d lost the holy war and had been driven out of their land. And the only thing at the end of their long, bitter journey was this cursed, infertile land of Wortenia. The guild often sent experienced, elite adventurers to gather resources from the peninsula, but even they dreaded entering the regions the elves lived in.

The elves had chosen to live here, so as to cut off all contact with humans, but it had made their lives that much harder. Agriculture wasn’t as simple as just planting seeds or saplings. The land had to be plowed, and the crops had to be watered and fertilized. This required time and dedication. Trees had to be cleared to make room for the fields, and barriers would have to be set up to protect their harvests from monsters.

After their defeat in the holy war, the elves had been too beaten and tired to establish their new villages properly. As a result, they were forced to live by hunting monsters for their flesh. Luxury items like alcohol or cigarettes were entirely out of the question.

But things had changed. While they didn’t have an abundance of such luxuries, Nelcius was able to barter for enough alcohol and cigarettes so all of the elves could at least have access to them. Vegetables, which were once rare and reserved only for celebrations, now became a common part of their diet. And most importantly, salt and spices greatly improved the quality of their lives.

In just a year and a few months, trading with Sirius had revolutionized the elven lifestyle, which had remained unchanged since their defeat in the holy war.

Yes. He offered to trade with us knowingly. He knew that once our standard of life went up, it would be hard to lower it again.

Even Nelcius would sternly refuse to return to the days when the only things that sated his hunger were bland soup and smelly, dry meat. Not only that, he desired to experience the finer commodities. The delicious food and drink he’d had during the banquets in Sirius left a lasting impression on him. The tender, oily texture of birds and beef bred for consumption was irresistible. They also served fish from the sea to the north, seasoning it with salt. That kind of cuisine was entirely new to Nelcius.

At the end of that banquet, confections had been brought out for dessert. Their taste had rendered him speechless. Anyone forced to lead their life without so much as the taste of fruit would react this way in the face of sugary treats. Nelcius, once dreaded by the human generals of the holy war as the Mad Demon, was no exception. He had specifically ordered as many tea leaves and dry, preserved confections as possible from Alejandro. Officially speaking, he ordered them as a way to reward his subordinates and for his meetings with Ryoma. Needless to say, his true intentions were rather obvious.

Even without those special foods, going back to our old lives is unthinkable now.

As the chief of an influential warrior tribe, Nelcius had a responsibility to defend all of elvenkind. The other chiefs, however, had a far more shallow outlook, adhering to their people’s demands and pressuring Nelcius to import more from the humans.

I can understand why they’d feel that way. Our lives have become much richer, if only for a time. But...what about the future?

The other chiefs viewed the trade with Ryoma Mikoshiba too lightly. They only saw their own profits and didn’t consider the future risks.

As Nelcius pondered over these details, a dark elf ran up to him, bowing his head.

“Preparations are complete,” he said. “We can set forth as soon as you say the word.”

Nelcius nodded. “Hm. The road to Sirius is protected by barrier pillars, but never forget that we’re on the Wortenia Peninsula. A monster powerful enough to tear through the barrier could attack.” He turned his gaze to the carriages. “Stay on your guard. We’re carrying quite the valuable load this time around, and the barriers are not as effective on the larger monsters.”

“We will,” responded the young elf. His expression was strained—perhaps from the pressure. He understood the gravity of his responsibility. “We’ll guard these goods with our lives.”

Half the carriages were full of herbs only found in Wortenia, as well as the entrails and furs of monsters. The other half was full of rare nostrums, armors, and weapons made by elven craftsmen. Any of those would be worth their weight in gold so long as they were brought to the right hands. More importantly, this freight carried something much more meaningful than any of their former trades had. That was why Nelcius himself, the chief of a warrior clan, was escorting the caravan this time.

He mentioned wanting to talk to me directly, but in all likelihood...

Nelcius looked ahead, past the flagstones of the road. His warrior’s intuition, the same intuition that had earned him the title of Mad Demon, could feel it—the omens of a new war, swirling like clouds on the horizon.