The next morning, Blake, Ophelia, Charlotte, Judy, Messia, and Semia gathered in the nearly unused meeting room of Twilight Castle. This was the first official lord's council since Blake had taken possession of the Twilight Forest—and it was long overdue. With the Wellspring conversion device up and running, the pieces were finally in place for the territory's development; all that was left was to put the plan into action. Figuring out exactly how to build up the domain had become a top priority. So Blake had decided to assemble everyone to brainstorm, hoping to gather some valuable suggestions. Truth be told, even Blake himself was unsure how to go about developing the territory. While the Twilight Forest was functioning smoothly enough for the time being, it was far from sufficient for his long-term goals.
As Blake's adjutant and chief advisor, Ophelia presided over the meeting. Judy served as the captain of the castle guard, Charlotte as the head maid, and the twin sisters—despite their current behavior of slouching at the table and giggling—had been given the honorary title of guest advisors. It was a title to be used for external purposes; whether the two young girls cared to accept it was another matter entirely.
"As of now, there are forty-five servants in Twilight Castle. For the time being, they can just barely keep the castle running. However, when it comes to the territory itself, we currently have only three lumberyards and one processing plant. The monthly tax revenue from these facilities amounts to approximately eight hundred gold coins."
"That's really not much at all..."
Blake frowned at the report. He knew full well that even this paltry sum of eight hundred gold coins was inflated. The majority of this income came from the three lumberyards and the processing plant—and of these facilities, only one had been funded by a local merchant. The rest had been built by the Zach family to fulfill their contractual obligations to him. To put it plainly, profit was not their primary goal in constructing these facilities. They were merely a gesture of goodwill from the Zach family, a loss-making investment that had nothing to do with normal business practices. And honestly, eight hundred gold coins a month was less than the tax revenue generated by a single small town along the Golden Trade Route.
"The handover of the Golden Trade Route outposts will take half a month. According to our intelligence, all the soldiers previously responsible for guarding and inspecting these outposts are from the Byrd family. Once your contract takes effect, the Byrd family will recall all of these men. If we wish to take control of these outposts and checkpoints, we will need to recruit a large number of local people... I suspect this will be quite a troublesome affair."
Ophelia's report was concise and to the point—and she was absolutely right. The Byrd family's decision to recall their soldiers was perfectly reasonable. After all, these men were loyal to the Byrds. Even if the Byrds had been generous enough to hand these soldiers over to Blake, it would have caused nothing but trouble down the line. These outposts were responsible for safeguarding the Golden Trade Route, which generated tens of thousands of gold coins in tax revenue every month. This was no trivial matter.
"Before the handover takes place, I will take the two young ladies to inspect the outposts personally," Blake decided quickly.
"As for the soldiers to guard these checkpoints, we can recruit them locally at that time. We can offer them better pay and benefits than the average soldier—provided, of course, that they are obedient and disciplined... But that's all peripheral business. Let's focus on the matter at hand. I want to know why the Twilight Forest is unable to attract more outside investment. We must become self-reliant. Even if we set aside the issue of profit, we need to start producing our own stone and minerals instead of constantly buying them from outside. After all, we don't have much money to spare right now, and purchasing these materials from external sources takes far too much time."
"It's because of a shortage of manpower, my lord," Ophelia replied, closing the documents in her hands and speaking calmly with a faint smile.
"As a matter of fact, I suspect that news of your lordship and the two young ladies has already spread to the neighboring territories. For merchants looking to expand their businesses, the chance to curry favor with a High-Rank Swordsman is an opportunity not to be missed. But the harsh reality is that the Twilight Forest is severely underpopulated. The town has a population of less than three hundred people. If we exclude the elderly, women, and children, the number of able-bodied young adults left to work is even smaller. Right now, these few laborers are already spread thin across the three lumberyards and the processing plant, struggling just to keep them running. What's more, not everyone is willing to do this kind of backbreaking work. For many young people, they would rather seek their fortunes in the prosperous cities on the plains than stay here doing low-paying manual labor."
It was hardly surprising. Young people were full of ambition and vitality. Few of them were willing to spend their lives in a desolate, isolated place like the Twilight Forest. And jobs in lumberyards were never well-paid, so they held little appeal.
In other words, it wasn't that merchants didn't want to invest in the Twilight Forest—on the contrary, they were eager to set up shop in the territory, build their businesses, and use the opportunity to ingratiate themselves with the young High-Rank Swordsman who ruled the land. For a territory like the Twilight Forest, a wide variety of industries were essential. And once these industries were established, Blake, as the lord, would naturally have to interact with the merchants who ran them. For these businessmen, the chance to meet the lord and network with him was more than worth the initial investment.
They truly wanted to come. But as the saying went, even the cleverest housewife couldn't cook a meal without rice. They could provide the capital and the technology, but the lack of manpower was a major obstacle. Running a business in a place like this required more than just a few supervisors to oversee the work. It required laborers—and those laborers needed housing, food, and other basic necessities. All of this was not only extremely troublesome, but also very costly. To make matters worse, even if the merchants were willing to take such a huge loss, there was no guarantee that their employees would be willing to relocate to the Twilight Forest.
If the Twilight Forest had been merely barren and desolate but had a sufficient population, the merchants would have jumped at the chance to invest. They could have hired local workers, saving themselves a great deal of money and trouble. But as things stood, the Twilight Forest was a vast, sparsely populated land with only one small town of fewer than three hundred people. Although Blake would gain three more towns after signing the contract with the Zach family, he knew full well that the people living there would never be willing to move to the Twilight Forest. If he tried to issue such an order, he would likely face a full-scale uprising within half a month of the territory handover.
"The total number of spectral warriors is only one hundred and thirty. They can just barely keep the castle running, but I doubt they will be sufficient if we put them to work in the territory," Charlotte said, sitting quietly in her chair and idly twisting the teacup in her hands. Judy also frowned, looking at Blake with a troubled expression. Although she paid little attention to these administrative matters, she understood Ophelia's point perfectly well.
"So what exactly are we supposed to do? Even if your lordship has already announced a reduction in taxes, the Twilight Forest simply does not have the conditions to attract people from the surrounding areas," Judy said.
"If they are not willing to come voluntarily, then we will have to force them to come," Blake shrugged, leaning back in his chair and stretching lazily.
"Precisely," Ophelia nodded in agreement at Blake's words.
"If commoners are unwilling to move to the Twilight Forest, then our only option is to purchase slaves."
Slavery was a legal trade on this continent. Although the Holy Mana Church had always expressed its outrage and condemnation of the practice, few people paid heed to the Church's words when profit was on the line. Generally speaking, slaves were made up of prisoners of war captured in battle or displaced refugees. The army would imprison these captives and sell them to slave traders in exchange for money. In fact, during times of war, a significant portion of the military's extra income came from the slave trade. Of course, purchasing slaves was not cheap. But Blake currently had a surplus of funds at his disposal, and he figured it would be more than enough to buy these idle laborers.
"For the first batch, we plan to purchase seven hundred slaves to work the land. At the very least, we need to stabilize the general boundaries of Twilight Town. Otherwise, with the town as it is now, it will be difficult to sustain the level of operation we hope to achieve in the future. As for military matters, Judy, I'm afraid I will have to rely on you and your men to maintain order. You don't need to worry about the castle—I don't think anyone would be foolish enough to attack us. Once we buy the slaves, your task will be to guard them and prevent any unnecessary unrest."
"Understood, my lord," Judy replied immediately, standing up and nodding in acknowledgment. But Charlotte looked at her master with a curious, slightly confused expression.
"But master, so far we have no connections in the slave trade. Unless... you have already found a source?"
"I haven't found one yet," Blake replied frankly, spreading his hands in response to his maid's question.
"But I have found someone who is likely to have connections in this field. I suspect he will be arriving shortly."
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a heavy knock sounded at the door. A moment later, Kaster entered the room and bowed respectfully to Blake.
"First Garrison Captain Kaster reporting for duty, Lord Blake. What can I do for you?"
Although Kaster kept his head bowed and his expression solemn as he stared at the floor, his heart was bursting with joy. In fact, the moment Blake's men had summoned him to attend the meeting, Kaster had known that his hard work over the past few days had not been in vain. The young lord had finally found a use for him—and he was determined not to let this golden opportunity slip through his fingers. That was why, after receiving the summons, Kaster had prepared himself carefully before hurrying to the castle.
"Captain Kaster, if I remember correctly, you were once a member of the garrison in the Byrd family's territory, is that right?"
"Yes, my lord," Kaster replied, glancing up at Blake in slight confusion. He couldn't help but wonder what the lord was thinking. Blake should have been well aware of his background—there was no need to ask such an obvious question.
"In that case, I would like to ask you: are you familiar with any slave traders? I am currently looking to enter this line of business, and I hope to find a trustworthy agent..."
At this point, Blake looked at Kaster, the corners of his lips curling up into a faint smile.
"I wonder if Captain Kaster could recommend such a trustworthy merchant for me to do business with?"
"This..." Kaster frowned at the request. As a garrison captain, whether he liked it or not, he had had to deal with slave traders on numerous occasions. After all, slaves were not like ordinary civilians—they were far more dangerous and prone to causing trouble. The garrison had clashed with these slaves and their masters many times, and Kaster had naturally gotten to know quite a few people in the trade.
But these slave traders were not good men. Some of them were even unscrupulous enough to consider selling their buyers while negotiating with them. Of course, Kaster was certain that these bullies would never dare to lay a finger on the young lord. But the underhanded tactics of the slave trade were something to be wary of. After all, this was the first task the lord had entrusted to him. If he made a poor recommendation and caused the lord to suffer a loss, his future prospects would be bleak indeed.
Kaster had worked hard to climb the ladder and secure his position under Blake, and he had no intention of falling from grace now. So he frowned deeply, racking his brain for several moments as he eliminated the most dangerous and unmanageable traders from his mind. Finally, he found a suitable candidate in the back of his memory.
"In that case, I can recommend Keith from the Winterless Hand Trading Company to your lordship. Although he is a slave trader, he is a man of his word. His character and reputation are reliable. What's more, Keith's company is located in Emerald Town—which is now part of your lordship's territory. I don't think the old man would have the guts to cause trouble for you."
At this point, Kaster paused, glancing at Blake and Ophelia's expressions before continuing.
"If your lordship is interested, I can send someone to fetch him here right away. Would that be acceptable?"
Keith from the Winterless Hand Trading Company?
Blake and Ophelia exchanged a glance and nodded slightly.
"No need for all that trouble. Since he's in Emerald Town, I'll go there personally," Blake said, standing up and bringing the first Twilight Forest Lord's Council to an end.
"I suspect Captain Kaster would be happy to accompany me, wouldn't you?"
"Of course, Lord Blake," Kaster replied, finally unable to contain his smile. He quickly bowed his head again, his voice brimming with respect.
Emerald Town was a small town located on the outskirts of the Twilight Forest. Several decades ago, it had been just like Twilight Town—a tiny village nestled among the trees. But later, the Byrd family had developed the territory, connecting it to the Golden Trade Route. And Emerald Town, once an obscure little hamlet, had flourished as a result.
"Truly, it's enough to make a man sick with envy," Blake sighed, standing on the bustling street and watching the crowds of people coming and going. Although Emerald Town and Twilight Town sounded similar, the difference between them was night and day. The wide, paved streets were packed with bustling crowds and busy figures. The air was filled with the din of chatter and the cries of vendors, bringing the town to life with energy and vitality. The shops and taverns lining the streets were overflowing with customers. Every now and then, one could see mercenaries clad in leather armor, their faces flushed with drink, shouting loudly and waving their tankards. Outside, on the notice boards, fully armed adventurers gathered in groups, scanning the postings for quests they could take on.
If one were to compare Emerald Town to Twilight Town, the latter would seem like a deserted ghost town by comparison.
"Emerald Town is adjacent to the Golden Trade Route. Its prosperity is only natural," Ophelia said, pulling her cloak tighter around her and looking at the crowded streets with a hint of displeasure. Unlike Blake, Ophelia much preferred the quiet, leisurely pace of life in Twilight Town to this bustling chaos.
"Lady Ophelia is absolutely right," Kaster replied, acting as their guide as he pushed his way through the crowd and led the two of them forward. "This is the closest town to the Golden Trade Route in the entire region, which is why it attracts so many people."
"And the slave traders often stop here as well. To be honest, every time they come to town, they stir up a great deal of trouble. It's quite a headache," Kaster added with a sigh.
"Do the slaves enter the town as well?" Ophelia couldn't help but ask, curious. After all, she was a former princess who had rarely seen a slave market. Her confusion was perfectly understandable.
"Of course not, Lady Ophelia," Kaster replied with a laugh, waving a hand dismissively.
"For one thing, the slaves are dirty and smelly—no town would welcome them inside. For another, who knows if these slaves are carrying any infectious diseases or plagues? If we let them into the town and something happened, it would cause us a great deal of trouble. That's why slave traders always gather their slaves in the outer districts of the town, hiring mercenaries to guard them. Most slaves accept their fate. Of course, there are always some who try to escape—that's unavoidable... We're here!"
As he spoke, Kaster led the two of them through the bustling streets and into a quiet corner of the town, where a tall building stood. From the outside, it looked like a modest two-story house, clean but unimposing.
"Please follow me, my lord," Kaster said, gesturing to Blake before climbing the steps and pushing open the wooden door to enter the building.
The interior furnishings made it clear that the Winterless Hand Trading Company was not a wealthy enterprise. The wooden chairs and the shabby carpet covering the floor were evidence enough of that. The large, empty hall was completely deserted except for a young apprentice dozing behind the counter. The place was nothing like the bustling hub Blake and Ophelia had imagined—it was even quieter than the streets outside.
"What on earth is going on here?" Kaster frowned in confusion as he took in the scene before him.
"I remember it being much busier the last time I was here..." he muttered under his breath. He walked over to the counter and rapped his knuckles against it, jolting the drowsy apprentice awake with a start. The young man straightened up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before bowing flusteredly to the guests in front of him.
"G-good day, honored guests. Welcome to the Winterless Hand Trading Company. How can I help you..."
"We're here to see your master about a business deal," Kaster said impatiently, tapping the counter again and speaking in a cold, crisp tone.
"Where's Keith? The old man should be here somewhere. Send him to see me at once."
"Y-yes, right away, sir," the young apprentice replied, clearly intimidated by Kaster's authoritative tone. As the saying went, the common folk never quarrel with the authorities—and this was true everywhere. So after hearing Kaster's words, he nodded frantically before scurrying up the stairs and disappearing from sight.
"Something doesn't feel right here," Kaster said, turning to Blake with a worried expression once the apprentice was gone.
"I remember the Winterless Hand Trading Company being quite prosperous a few years ago, making a good profit... But judging by the state of things now, it seems to have run into some difficulties. To be honest, I'm not sure if they will be able to meet your lordship's requirements."
"Don't worry about it. Let's wait and see," Blake replied, far more relaxed than the anxious Kaster. He understood Kaster's concerns perfectly well. This was Kaster's chance to prove himself—and if things went wrong, it could damage Blake's opinion of him. But as things stood, the situation was already more complicated than Kaster had anticipated. But it didn't matter. According to Kaster, there were plenty of slave traders in Emerald Town. If this one didn't work out, they could always find another. They had plenty of options.
"Oh! Oh my! Honored sir...!"
Just as the group was growing bored of waiting, a nervous, high-pitched voice echoed through the hall. A moment later, a tall, thin figure came shuffling down the stairs, his hands raised in a gesture of supplication and his gaunt face etched with fear.
"I told you I would pay back the money before winter! So please..."
His words trailed off mid-sentence. In fact, the moment he saw who his visitors were, the tall, thin merchant immediately swallowed the rest of his words. He stared at Kaster in disbelief for a moment before striding forward with his arms outstretched.
"Kaster! If it isn't Captain Kaster! It's been far too long! I heard you left the Byrd family's garrison? What brings you here now..."
"Cut the pleasantries, Keith," Kaster said, though he still reached out and exchanged a warm hug with the merchant in front of him.
"I now serve under Lord Blake, the ruler of the Twilight Forest. And as a matter of fact, I've brought you a business opportunity."
With that said, Kaster stepped aside, pushing Blake and Ophelia forward.
"This is Lord Blake, the Lord of the Twilight Forest, and his fiancée, Lady Ophelia. They wish to purchase a batch of slaves from you."
"Oh! Oh! I see!" Keith replied immediately, breaking into a warm, ingratiating smile. He strode forward and shook Blake's outstretched hand vigorously.
"Welcome! Welcome, honored lord and beautiful lady! It is a great honor to be of service to you both... May I ask what it is that you require..."
"We need a batch of slaves," Blake said, pulling his hand back.
"Approximately seven hundred slaves, in good health, male or female... I hope you have some good recommendations. And money is no object."
"Seven hundred slaves..." Keith frowned at the request, looking slightly troubled. He glanced at Kaster standing beside him and forced a bitter smile.
"I'm terribly sorry, your lordship and lady, but I simply don't have seven hundred slaves available at the moment..."
"What? That's impossible!" Kaster exclaimed in shock before Blake could even speak.
"I remember the Winterless Hand Trading Company dealing in slaves all the time! Seven hundred slaves should be no problem for you!"
"It used to be that way, my friend, but times have changed," Keith replied with a sigh, slumping his shoulders in dejection at Kaster's question.
"I'm sure you can see for yourself—the Winterless Hand Trading Company is not what it used to be. I've been having a string of bad luck in business these past few years, losing a great deal of money. To tell you the truth, I did purchase a batch of slaves earlier. But now... I can't sell them."
Can't sell them?
Blake and Ophelia exchanged a curious glance. What did that mean? How could someone not be able to sell slaves?
"What happened?" Blake asked.
Keith looked visibly hesitant at the question. He hesitated for a moment before letting out a helpless sigh.
"It's not a big deal, really. Originally, I bought a thousand refugees from Orlut, planning to sell them in the south. But while I was bringing them back here to rest and recuperate, a small incident occurred..."
The story itself was not particularly complicated. While Keith's slaves were resting in Emerald Town, a garrison soldier had taken a fancy to one of the young girls among the refugees and dragged her off to have his way with her. In their eyes, these refugees were nothing but slaves—they had no rights whatsoever. And merchants were always at a disadvantage when dealing with soldiers. Although Keith had been worried that this act would anger the other refugees and tried to intervene, the soldier had paid him no heed, eventually taking the girl away by force.
But then things took a turn for the worse. The young girl had already been weak and emaciated, and she was no match for the brute strength of a grown man. By the time she was returned to the slave camp, she was clinging to life by a thread. Although Keith had sent for a doctor to treat her, the girl had been too young and too frail—and the soldier had been far too brutal. In the end, she had succumbed to her injuries and died. Naturally, this had enraged the other refugees. Their revenge was simple: they had lured the young garrison soldier into the slave camp, beaten him to death, and then thrown his body out into the street.
The refugees' act of retaliation had caused an uproar. After all, garrison soldiers were not ordinary civilians—killing them was tantamount to rebellion in the eyes of the authorities. To make matters worse, the young soldier who had been killed was the son of the town's garrison captain. It wasn't long before the garrison captain had dispatched his men to surround the slave camp, demanding that the refugees hand over the murderers of his son—or else he would starve them all to death. But the refugees were stubborn, refusing to back down even in the face of death. And so the two sides had been locked in a tense standoff ever since.
For Keith, this had been a complete disaster. Although he had tried to mediate the conflict, his efforts had been to no avail. At this point, it was impossible for him to take the refugees away. But it was equally impossible for him to sell them—after all, the garrison was the local authority, and no one wanted to get on their bad side. So now Keith could do nothing but sigh and secretly smuggle food to the refugees, hoping they would be able to hold out long enough for the garrison captain to cool down so he could finally sell them off.
It wasn't that Keith felt any sympathy for the refugees. As a slave trader, he had a certain code of professional ethics to uphold. But the truth was that he had been losing money in business for years, and these refugees were his last hope of recouping his losses. That was why he had treated them far better than the average slave. But as things stood now, the standoff had already lasted for over two months, with neither side showing any sign of backing down. And Keith's money was not unlimited. If this went on much longer, he would be facing financial ruin.
A group of refugees?
Blake narrowed his eyes at the story.
"What is their background?"
"They're from the Great Timber Valley in Orlut. They were captured after the Sith Empire occupied Orlut and then sold to me. I originally planned to take them south to sell them—I'm sure I could have gotten a good price for them. But now it seems I'll be lucky if I don't lose money..."
"I'll take them," Blake said abruptly.
"Huh?" Keith stared at the young man in shock, his eyes widening in disbelief. He must not have heard what I just said properly, Keith thought to himself. So why was he making this decision?
"What did you say?"
"I'll take them," Blake repeated firmly. "Where are they now? I'd like to see the merchandise. I assume that won't be a problem?"
"This..." Keith hesitated, looking at Blake with a troubled expression as he tried to figure out the young lord's intentions. Had he not understood what Keith had just told him about the refugees?
As he thought this, Keith glanced at Kaster, only to see him nod slowly in response.
"Very well, then. Please follow me," Keith said, finally making up his mind. After all, if things continued like this, he was certain to lose everything. It would be better to see what this young man had in mind—and perhaps he could even help resolve the situation.