Chapter 59: The Devil's Storm Rises

Two days later, after completing the transaction with the Gresley Chamber of Commerce, Viren could hardly wait to lead his merchants homeward.

To avoid any unexpected incidents, Viren deliberately steered clear of Kent Territory. This detour would cost them additional time, but safety was worth the price.

Sitting upright in the carriage, Viren studied the simple transaction chart prepared by Raimondo, falling deep into thought. This deal, aside from the purchase of slaves, had left them at a loss according to the normal trade data of their goods.

“There are too few items available for trade from the Lake of Starlit Prayers,” he muttered.

Raimondo, riding alongside, nodded in agreement. “Master, those folding chairs will soon be copied by others—they won’t serve as trade goods next time. As for the yam, its price is too low for commercial trading.”

“You’re right.” Viren set aside the chart, silent for a moment before continuing, “Even if we make the most of the mineral salt, it alone won’t support future development. We’ll have to think about another solution when we return.”

For now, mineral salt was the only viable trade commodity from the Lake of Starlit Prayers. To expand their offerings, they’d either have to venture deeper into the Grey Dawn Wastelands or invest in processing technology.

Viren ran his fingers over the rough ceramics, resolved to experiment with creating finer pottery.

“This is just one direction,” he mused. “We’ll need to consider other possible paths, too.”

As Viren pondered, a merchant guard returned from scouting ahead, reporting briskly, “Master, sir, the road ahead is sealed by the army. We can’t pass for the time being.”

“Whose army?” Viren looked up, questioning the guard.

“Master, their banners bear both the kingdom’s flag and those of nobility, but I’m not learned enough to identify the exact forces,” the guard answered honestly.

Raimondo spoke up, “Master, the royal flag likely means troops directly under the Cardero Province, or perhaps the Silver Knight Order summoned by the crown. The noble banners must be from local nobles drafted for temporary service.”

Viren nodded. He suspected that something serious had happened in Kent Territory, prompting the military blockade here.

Lacking further information, Viren could only proceed cautiously, step by step.

At Viren’s command, Raimondo led the merchant convoy slowly toward the blockade.

...

Fallen Stone Hills formed the outermost node of the blockade circle. Here, a small squad of knights and several hundred local noble soldiers held their position.

“Captain, another merchant convoy approaches ahead—should we…” A knight lifted the tent flap, reporting to a young woman with short black hair.

“I’ve said it before: I don’t care if it’s man or beast—even a dog gets checked thoroughly,” Flora Exes replied impatiently as she cleaned her weapon.

As a high-ranking Silver Knight, she should have been hunting the last remnants of those damned demons in Kent Territory, but instead she’d been dispatched to this miserable place.

“Captain… that convoy’s flying your family’s banner. Should we still inspect them?” The knight glanced nervously at his commander.

“Wait, you…” Flora started, then stopped abruptly when she realized the connection. She stood, sheathed her sword, and ordered, “Lead me there—I’ll inspect them myself.”

“Yes, captain.” The knight obeyed, turning to guide the way.

Flora smoothed her short hair, donned her black helm, and lowered her visor, following her subordinate out of the tent.

At the checkpoint, the sentries watched a “commoner” in linen clothing brazenly survey the camp. Remembering the recent busy demeanor of the knight, they wisely kept quiet, refraining from the usual scolding.

Viren observed the makeshift camp before him. The noble and royal troops were clearly distinguishable.

On the left, the tents were neatly arranged. Aside from patrols, the rest were engaged in disciplined training—clearly the kingdom’s troops.

In contrast, the right side was more chaotic, but there was no sign of drinking or gambling. Every soldier wore leather armor and carried quality arms. To Viren’s senses, at least two-thirds had reached the professional stage.

Most were warrior apprentices or knight squires, but it showed the nobles had brought their best, not just pressed serfs into service.

“Master, she’s coming,” Raimondo announced.

Viren turned to see Flora approaching.

Flora glanced at Viren, said nothing, and simply signaled her men to begin inspecting the convoy.

The merchant guards, under Raimondo’s orders, dutifully stepped aside.

“Captain, all is clear,” the knight reported after a few minutes, having found no sign of demons or their minions.

Flora turned to Viren, “Which branch of the Exes family are you?”

Viren was puzzled by the knight’s question, but replied truthfully, “I am Viren Exes, sixth generation head of the Exes family, fifth son of Angus, the Eagle Count.”

“My name is Flora Exes. Pleased to meet you, kinsman,” Flora replied warmly as she removed her visor. “I’m from the lineage of Count Andusi, also sixth generation. If you don’t mind, you may call me aunt.”

Several knights nearby gaped at their captain’s sudden display of ladylike grace, nearly blinded by the sight.

“This…”

“Those lazy fools are shirking their drills again—Captain, I’ll go check on them.”

“Vice-captain, I’ll go with you. Those brats need a lesson today.”

“There’s something happening over there, Captain—I’ll take a squad to investigate.”

Within a minute, the knights who had been standing beside Flora had all dispersed, leaving only the sentries, Viren, and his merchants.

Viren, seeing that Flora was barely older than himself, hesitated, then quietly called, “Aunt.”

“Good boy.”

Satisfied by her newfound authority, Flora’s mood brightened. She took Viren by the hand and led him toward her tent.

Raimondo watched his master depart and waited patiently.

Along the way, numerous knights observed their captain leading a young man in commoner’s garb toward her tent, heads lowered, lost in their own thoughts.