17.07.592 AF (+45 Days)
[Walter]
It seems I'll have to expand the brewery much sooner than anticipated. Over the past few weeks, Carneer has gained unexpected attention. Orders have started coming in from the neighbouring Barony of Sarvin, and it's clear now that our initial estimations of beer consumption have been completely shattered. Instead of the one barrel every two weeks we had anticipated, in the last five weeks alone, we've sold six barrels. Of those, four were supplied to Eadric's inn, one to another inn in the capital, and the last one was sold to a traveling merchant heading to Sarvin. The demand has surged, and it's likely that the outward shipments have played a large role in driving this influx.
Just four days ago, an inn in the capital requested three barrels, and two days ago, two inns in Sarvin ordered a total of four barrels. The beer for these orders will be ready as soon as the next merchant caravan passes through Cardhan on its way to Sarvin. This has led me to consider the idea of organizing a merchant caravan of my own to handle deliveries. I'll likely hire the very same merchant who first brought me and my retinue to the village. He's a regular in the capital, so I know he'll be familiar with the route. He delivered the beer for the capital in my stead, and I paid him his fee—though judging by the smile on his face, I think I may have been a little too generous.
Over the past month and a half, I've figured out how to earn Shop Points—by simply continuing on my current path. Achievements and merits naturally accumulate as I push forward. Every time I accomplish something extraordinary, I'm rewarded with Shop Points. In the last six weeks alone, I've gathered 207 Shop Points. Most of them came from the successful sale of a unique beer—the first of its kind—along with the application of skills that allowed me to defeat older opponents in the training ground.
I hadn't spent any of the Shop Points yet, saving them for a specific purpose—upgrading my Arcana Sense to the next level, Arcana Vision. The upgrade required 200 Points, a threshold I had just surpassed.
Without hesitation, I directed my focus toward the word "Shop," and instantly, the Shop unfolded before my eyes.
Skill
Grade
Cost
Flame Touch
D
25 SP
Fireball (Lesser)
D
Mastered
Spark
D
Mastered
Warmth
D
4 SP
…
…
…
I had mastered 'Spark' last week, thanks to its constant use in controlling the brewing temperature. An option to upgrade it had been available for some time, but I chose to ignore it, focusing instead on gathering the necessary Shop Points.
I scrolled down, clicking the 'Next' button at the bottom of the page, and continued to scroll a little further.
And there it was!
Arcana Vision
C
200 SP
I locked my focus on it immediately and, after confirming the purchase, secured it without hesitation.
Without wasting a moment, I brought up the Skills Screen.
Skill
Proficiency
Blood of Avalon (Inferior)
19.5%
Arcana Vision
0%
Arcana Manipulation
91.2%
Spark
100% [UP!]
Warmth
85.3%
Fireball (Lesser)
100% [UP!]
Astar Standard Sword Art
100% [UP!]
Observe
17.6%
I confirmed Arcana Vision was listed among my skills, then closed the window.
Curious to test my new ability, I opened my palm and activated 'Spark.' It usually takes a second to manifest, but this time, I saw it differently. Small red particles began to gather, swirling and converging in my palm to form the spell before it fully materialized.
To an unskilled mage, this might seem like nothing more than a minor trick. But to me, it was invaluable. I could now witness the very formation of spells before they appeared—an edge that would accelerate my learning and sharpen my awareness. This ability could warn me of enemy attacks, letting me see their spells forming even if they tried to ambush me.
A satisfied smile crossed my face as I closed the window.
Next, I opened my Status Screen.
Name
Walter Carnell
STRENGTH
12
Level
11
VITALITY
11
Health
230/230
CORE
1.98
Arcana
198/198
Free Points
23
Age
12
Shop Points
7
Title
Master of Cardhan
Skills
[OPEN]
I noticed that from levels 1 to 10, I had received 2 free points with each level-up, but from level 11 onward, I was gaining 3 points per level. It made sense—leveling up grew harder over time, so the increase in free points felt like a fair trade-off.
My growing mastery over spells had also accelerated the development of my core. As of now, I was nearing the peak of a one-core mage. It wouldn't be long before I broke through and became a two-core mage.
The temptation to invest my free points into my core was strong—I wanted to see how far I could push it. But I held back. My natural rate of growth was already fast enough to raise eyebrows. If I suddenly advanced to a two-core mage, word of my talent would spread like wildfire. The king himself might try to recruit me, and all my carefully laid plans to rise discreetly would unravel.
I wasn't ready for that. Not yet.
Beyond all this, I made a habit of spamming 'Observe' on everyone in the keep. The strongest individual by far was Tristan, standing at Level 34. His mastery extended to the Astar Standard Sword Art, Enhanced Endurance, Pain Suppression, and Warrior's Intuition. His strength sat at a monstrous 37.
Close behind him was Lukas at Level 30, with his Core developed to 3.15. His spell mastery covered two B-Rank spells, five C-Rank, and thirteen D-Rank. Lukas also possessed knowledge of one A-Rank spell, though his proficiency with it lingered at a mere 9%.
Together, Tristan and Lukas were the village's powerhouses.
Beyond them, the guards' levels ranged between 5 and 15. As for Steward-Regent Frederick, he held steady at Level 12. While his management of the territory had been competent, his low-level spells and lack of significant mastery painted a clear picture. It wasn't surprising that he had been pseudo-exiled to this village. In the capital, where more capable mages and bureaucrats were abundant, Frederick's skills would have held little weight.
Soon, a knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Come in," I replied.
Cain, the guard stationed outside my chamber during this time of day, entered and said, "Master, there seems to be a messenger from Sarvin waiting for you in the great hall."
"Sarvin, you say?" I replied, pausing to think.
Sarvin was a well-established barony, much larger and more politically influential than my modest fief. With two towns and six villages under its control, its economy thrived on extensive agricultural production, trade, and a booming beer industry. However, despite its size and power, Sarvin's beer was known for being of inferior quality, produced in mass quantities often at the expense of its customers' health, unlike the high-quality beer we brewed in Cardhan.
Sarvin was ruled by Baron Aldric Sarvin, an ambitious and calculated leader who had overseen the barony's expansion through shrewd political maneuvering and effective resource management. According to the information I had received, he was nearing the end of his fifth decade and had ruled Sarvin for around twenty-five years. The barony had been granted to his grandfather as repayment for a loan extended to the Riverton family before the Shattering of the Empire.
Soon, I arrived at the great hall. As I made my way to my seat at the end of the long wooden table, everyone stood. Tristan, Lukas, and Frederick were already present, and the messenger from Sarvin stood at the other end.
I took my seat and raised my hand, signaling for everyone to sit. The messenger, however, remained standing.
I looked across the table at the messenger, his posture stiff as he remained standing at the far end of the hall. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on me for a brief moment before he began speaking in a tone that was smooth and polished—one that had clearly been used in many such negotiations.
"Master Walter Carnell," he began, addressing me directly, though the condescension in his voice was barely veiled, "Baron Aldric of Sarvin sends his regards and wishes to discuss a matter of mutual benefit between our two fiefs. As you are undoubtedly aware, Sarvin's economy thrives on its beer production, a staple of both our internal market and our exports. However, recent news of your brewery's success has reached us... and it seems you've found a rather... unique recipe."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle, his eyes gleaming with the assumption that I would be flattered, perhaps even eager to hear more.
"I'm sure you understand the value of such a product," he continued, taking a small step forward, "and as a young and, I imagine, ambitious ruler, you might see the potential in expanding beyond your current scope. We at Sarvin have both the resources and the wealth to help you, but more importantly, we have the means to bring your product to a wider market. The only thing standing in the way is... the recipe you've so cleverly crafted."
His voice softened as he took another step closer, clearly trying to create a more personal, persuasive tone.
"Master," he said, with a small bow of his head, "Baron Aldric is willing to offer you ten gold coins for the recipe—an amount that will ensure your place among the wealthiest in the region. A mere fraction of what we would be willing to pay for such a treasure. We could also provide access to Sarvin's networks, making your brewery famous across the land."
He finally paused, giving me an opening to respond, confident that his offer would sway me.
I leaned back in my chair, my fingers lightly tapping against the table as I listened, careful not to reveal any emotion. His assumption that I was simply a child with little to no understanding of business or power amused me. I could tell from his tone that he thought his words would be enough to sway me into accepting his offer without question. What he didn't realize was that while I might be twelve in years, my mind was far from that of a child.
"Your offer is generous," I replied slowly, the words deliberate and steady. "But there is one thing you are forgetting—while Sarvin may produce cheap beer in great quantity, it is still inferior to the quality of mine. And while you may have wealth, influence, and power, none of that can replicate the kind of quality we've perfected here in Cardhan."
The messenger's expression tightened, but I could see the slight shift in his stance, the momentary flicker of doubt. He had expected me to jump at the offer, to fall for the idea of wealth and prestige. He hadn't anticipated resistance, especially not from someone of my age. But I wasn't just a boy, and I wasn't about to let him manipulate me.
"As for the recipe," I continued, my voice firm and calm, "I'm afraid that's not for sale. Not for the price you're offering. If you want it, you'll have to offer more than just wealth—because that's not the most important thing to me."
I leaned forward, meeting the messenger's eyes with a steady gaze, making it clear that I wasn't someone easily swayed.
"Now," I said, my tone sharpening, "tell Baron Aldric that I'll be happy to discuss further terms, but they won't be as simple as he expects."
The messenger stood frozen for a moment, his mind working quickly to digest my refusal. For a brief instant, the polished confidence he had arrived with wavered. I could see him weighing his next move, trying to recalculate in the face of my response. It was clear that he hadn't expected such resistance, especially from a child. Still, he was a professional—he would find a way to turn this back to his advantage.
After a long pause, the messenger straightened up, clearing his throat. "Very well, Master Walter," he said with an air of reluctant respect. "I will relay your words to Baron Aldric. Should you change your mind, we are always open to negotiations."
With that, he gave a curt bow, his movements stiff and calculated. He turned to leave, but not before casting one final, lingering glance at me—a look that was almost a challenge. As the door closed behind him, I let out a slow breath, settling back into my chair, keeping my expression neutral.
Tristan was the first to speak. "Master," he began, his tone cautious but respectful, "I have to admit, I'm impressed. You handled that well. Ten gold for the recipe is a meager offer, especially considering the quality we produce here. But do you think it's over? Surely Baron Aldric will try again, but with a different approach."
Lukas nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed. "Indeed. Sarvin's resources are vast, but their beer is... well, it's inferior at best. They want what we've perfected, and it's clear they don't want to offer a fair price. A thousand silver for something worth far more—it's an insult."
I met Lukas' gaze, a calm smile playing on my lips. "It is an insult. But Sarvin doesn't realize that I'm not driven by coin alone. Quality matters far more than wealth. As for their networks, they can't force me to sell, not without offering something truly valuable in return."
Frederick, ever the practical one, leaned forward. "Master Walter, we have to be cautious. Sarvin has the means to escalate things, especially if they believe they can't buy us out. It might not be the gold they'll bring next time. You've given them an inch by refusing so politely."
I glanced down at the table, fingers lightly tapping against the wood again as I mulled over his words. Sarvin's wealth and influence were formidable, but my fief was not weak. Cardhan had built a reputation on quality, on integrity, and on being a place where even the poorest man could enjoy something of exceptional value.
"I'm not worried," I replied, looking back up at the council. "The message has been sent. If they want this recipe, they'll have to show they understand its worth. They'll have to come at us harder, and they'll pay the price for underestimating us. But for now, we stand firm."
Tristan leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "We can't be complacent, Master. Sarvin has power, and they might attempt to hurt our reputation. If they start spreading rumors or pressuring merchants to refuse our beer, we need to be ready."
I nodded. "We'll keep our networks tight and our production steady. No matter what, Cardhan will remain the gold standard. And if they do attempt to damage us in other ways, we'll retaliate. It's time we make sure that our quality isn't just known in the towns and villages around us—it needs to be everywhere. Let Sarvin waste their wealth producing a product that no one will want when they can have ours."
Frederick gave a sharp nod, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Agreed. We have the quality, and that will always outshine quantity. We just need to hold strong."
Lukas leaned forward with a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps we can turn this to our advantage. Instead of simply holding the line, why not press the advantage? If they're desperate for the recipe, they'll be willing to pay a much higher price. We could even set up a trade agreement—exclusive distribution rights to Sarvin, at a cost, of course."
I smiled slightly at the suggestion. "That's not a bad idea. We make them work for it, but on our terms."
The council members exchanged looks, each nodding at the prospect of gaining even more from this situation. The message was clear: Sarvin had underestimated us, and now they'd have to pay the price—not just in silver, but in respect.
For now, though, I knew the immediate challenge had passed. But it wouldn't be long before the next phase of the game began. And when it did, we would be ready to meet Sarvin's ambition with our own—on our terms.