[Translator - Peptobismal]
[Proofreader - Max]
Chapter 34: The Wager (2)
Hamel left the reception room first and was packing his belongings.
A little later, Benjamin also left the reception room with a calm expression.
As Hamel watched him, Benjamin suddenly bowed deeply to Hamel and apologized.
"I apologize, Lord Hamel."
"I don't understand why you're apologizing."
At Hamel's question, Benjamin said with his head bowed,
"Because calling me insignificant along with you was meant to mock you."
"Ah, was that it? It's alright."
"...?"
Hamel shook his head calmly.
Benjamin's eyes widened slightly in surprise at his reaction, but Hamel was sincere.
He had been out of the nobility for so long that he was completely unaware of this kind of provocation.
Moreover, he didn't even care.
Hamel was more curious about other news.
"What happened with the bid?"
"Ah, the bid."
He returned to his cold, impersonal tone and replied,
"It fell through. The steward claimed that the previous bid had priority. The bid has already been passed on to another company."
Unfortunately, Benjamin's concerns had become reality.
The steward had decided to purchase the cheaper company's stock.
Benjamin muttered as if admitting a mistake,
"It seems I overestimated the reputation of our Lawrence Trading Company. It's been a while since I've received such treatment, so I'm a bit flustered."
"Then what will you do with the remaining stock?"
"It's troublesome, but I'll have to do something about it. The steward said he would buy it at half the original price. He said I could either sell the food at that price or let it rot and throw it away."
Hamel looked at him for a moment and asked,
"How much is half the price?"
"One mark per bag of whole wheat. And one mark for ten boxes of shallots, carrots, or cabbage. It's lower than the purchase price."
"Two marks."
"...Excuse me?"
"We'll buy all of your stock. At exactly twice the price. Ah, except for the salt."
At Hamel's words, Benjamin's mask of composure finally broke.
He seemed slightly bewildered, wiping his monocle and taking a moment before calmly responding to Hamel's words.
"I apologize, but the amount of stock is considerable. At that price, you would have to pay at least twenty thousand marks..."
Clink!
The gold coins piled up inside the leather pouch that Hamel handed to Benjamin gleamed.
As Benjamin stared blankly, Hamel replied calmly,
"I happen to have exactly twenty thousand marks."
"...Why, with this kind of money, would you...?"
Benjamin looked up at Hamel in puzzlement.
His face was no longer that of a cold, calculating businessman.
The genuinely surprised old man asked him in wonder,
Why did you endure the humiliation earlier when you had this kind of money?
Hamel's answer was simple.
"Saving the people of my territory is the priority."
"...Haha."
Benjamin burst into laughter for the first time.
The laughter that had initially burst out in surprise soon turned into an amused chuckle.
"Hahaha. You are a very interesting person, Lord Hamel."
"Am I?"
"Yes. At least, you are the most peculiar noble I have ever met."
"I see."
Hamel simply nodded calmly.
Benjamin collected the money and replied,
"Very well. I accept the deal. It seems I have a new client."
Hamel shrugged at him.
"Then let me give you some advice as a new client. It would be best not to bring salt to Sorn or its vicinity next year. Because we have a lot of stock piled up."
"Ah... I see."
Benjamin immediately understood what Hamel meant and nodded.
It meant that there was a considerable amount of salt that had not been sold due to the situation in the territory.
If Heidern released its supply, the price of salt in Sorn and the surrounding areas would plummet.
"Thank you for the valuable advice."
"It's nothing. Now, shall we get going?"
It was time for Benjamin to return to his company.
And for Hamel to reduce his debt.
It was time to head to the Rosel Forest in the east.
***
The reception room, now empty of both Hamel and Conrad.
Viscount Ramsey, frowning for some reason, didn't seem to want to leave the reception room.
After a while,
He tapped the desk with his ring-clad fingers and called for the steward.
"Steward."
"Yes, master."
"So you're saying that he's the only one left in the Gilmore clan line?"
"Yes. Dennis Gilmore was killed in a demon attack, and David Gilmore went missing while fighting a demon, his whereabouts unknown. The only one left is the former exorcist, Hamel Saint Gilmore."
"He became the lord recently, right? Then his support base must be weak?"
At the old man's gesture, a man as huge as a tree stepped forward from behind.
He stood in front of Hamel, holding a club as thick as a log.
His imposing presence was so overwhelming that even the escorts protecting Benjamin flinched and stepped back.
"Turn back. We don't want to fight."
The old man gave a final warning.
Hamel simply shook his head again.
"...We have no choice then. Findel."
"Yes."
The giant man swung his club at Hamel.
Judging from his relaxed movements, he seemed to be holding back.
The next moment,
Thud!
Hamel's hand, which had somehow moved below the man, struck his chin.
The man's eyes rolled back, and he fell to his knees with a thud.
"...!"
The old man and those behind him flinched visibly.
Even though his face was hidden by his robe, Hamel's voice was young, and his body was thin.
For those who had considered Hamel an unthreatening opponent, this was an unexpected turn of events.
"There's a reason why I can't turn back now."
Hamel turned to face the old man and said,
"I don't want to fight either, so let's talk."
The old man silently pointed behind him.
"It's not over yet."
"...?"
The moment Hamel turned around, the log-like club came flying at him again.
Hamel narrowly dodged it and retreated, but the club was swung at him again and again.
Bang!
The missed club shattered a roadside stone.
It had enough force to shatter bones if it had landed.
The giant man was wielding his club powerfully as if he had never fallen.
Hamel, narrowly dodging the club, said bluntly,
"Since you drew your weapon first, I will use mine as well."
The man called Findel, instead of replying, gripped his club anew and swung it powerfully.
Hamel, in response, blocked it with the sword he had drawn.
The next moment, the ground beneath Hamel's feet shattered, and dust and dirt flew up.
Even a knight would have been crushed by the impact.
"Findel! What are you doing?!"
The old man shouted urgently.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to kill him...?!"
Flash!
But before he could finish his words,
A flash of sword light cut through the dust cloud.
Slash!
The man called Findel collapsed on the spot, blood flowing from his arms and legs.
And Hamel slowly emerged from the dust cloud.
"...What?"
Just as the old man's voice trembled,
"How dare you hurt Findel!"
A woman in a robe, standing right behind the old man, shouted and quickly drew her bow at Hamel.
However,
Whoosh!
Two daggers, thrown even faster, pierced both her shoulders, pinning her arms holding the bow and arrow.
Hamel's throwing daggers had hit their targets accurately.
"Ugh."
As the fallen woman tried to grab her bow again,
Cold metal touched her neck.
Hamel, who had approached unnoticed, held his sword to her throat.
"Stop."
The old man, who had been watching the situation silently, finally spoke.
He asked in a cold, low voice,
"Are you a knight sent by the lord?"
"No."
"...?"
The old man was so taken aback by Hamel's immediate answer that he couldn't say anything.
The reason was understandable.
The movements Hamel had just displayed were things that even most knights would struggle to achieve.
Hamel withdrew his sword, sat down, and clasped his hands together.
It was a posture of devout prayer that anyone would recognize.
After a moment of bewilderment at his composed and natural demeanor,
Whoosh!
Azure flames erupted from the wounds of the fallen Findel and the woman.
"What is this?"
For a moment, they were bewildered, but then the bleeding from the wounds stopped and began to heal.
While the woman touched her wounds in surprise, a silence fell as no one dared to step forward.
"Who in the world are you...?"
The old man asked Hamel, who stood up, brushing off the dirt.
"My name is Hamel. I am the lord of Heidern and a priest."
[Translator - Peptobismal]
[Proofreader - Max]