Chapter 89. The Alchemist

'Geez, I didn’t know it was this close.'

Ian looked at the ring and laughed in disbelief. He had no reason to look closely at the jewelry, let alone his wife’s fingers.

The hand that the lady had signaled with earlier was the opposite one, and the number of pieces of jewelry on the table had already surpassed seven.

"Why is that?"

"Do you know what kind of gemstone is set in the ring?"

The lady looked at Ian with a puzzled expression. Her gaze seemed to ask why he was suddenly asking this. However, since she didn’t know the answer either, the question was redirected to Lord Mereloff.

"No, this was a gift from you, my lord…."

The more he examined it, the more certain he became. He was still wearing the necklace under his shirt, after all. It was the same type as the one hidden under the Silasque vase, a yellow gemstone that seemed to hold sunlight, intricately crafted.

"My lord?"

"Hmm, I don’t remember clearly, but I think I received it as a gift from a caravan heading to the capital. It was the first spring after I married my wife, so…."

The lord tapped his temples, trying to recall the name of the caravan. But for some reason, it wouldn’t come to his lips, and he only let out a frustrated groan.

"Ugh. Anyway, it was a gift from a caravan. I remember they had an alchemist, so that’s why I’m saying this."

"An alchemist?"

"Yes. When I asked him to make gold, he did something strange… I can’t tell if it was a failure or intentional. But he said this was popular in foreign lands beyond the Hawan Kingdom, so I kept it."

Ian was taken aback by the unexpected revelation.

An alchemist, a method he had never even considered. Those who sought to turn base metals into gold by exploring the natural truths, rather than magic. They were often seen as frauds, madmen, or even heretics trying to mimic mages.

"An alchemist, that’s quite surprising."

"It’s not that unusual in foreign lands. An alchemist is like a living precious metal factory, after all. I’ve never seen a master alchemist, but even half-finished works like this are impressive. Many caravans contract them to work. You didn’t know?"

"How would I know?"

"Well, I suppose not. Such people wouldn’t visit the brothels in Brats, after all."

Lord Mereloff inadvertently let out an insulting remark and was startled. After all, the lady had asked for an extension on the gold loan and even offered collateral.

His tongue had slipped.

"Hmm."

The lord cleared his throat and glanced at Ian, but Ian seemed preoccupied with examining the ring.

'So, it was the work of an alchemist. But why was it hidden in Ian’s vase?'

The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together.

If Filia was right, Ian had obtained the vase after running an errand for the caravan. It was likely the same caravan the lord was talking about.

"I see. Thank you for telling me."

"The ring…."

Ian and the lady’s gazes met. Ian would have liked to buy it, and the lady seemed fine with giving it as a gift. Only Lord Mereloff, watching them, felt uneasy.

"Is this enough as collateral?"

"Of course, my lady. If you send the check by sunset tomorrow, I will return the valuables. I hope our trust remains unshaken."

"Hmph. I don’t know what you think of Mereloff."

"If you’re upset, I didn’t mean to imply anything."

Knock knock.

"My lord, I’ve moved all the sacks."

At that moment, Mereloff’s servant announced from outside in a nearly dead voice. It was a hundred sacks in total. Now, they only needed to make a few more trips with the carriage.

"Good. I’ll be out. My lady, please go ahead and enter the mansion. I’ll finish up with Sir Ian and follow you."

"Yes, I understand."

The lady picked up her coat and gave Ian a slight nod. Though unintentional, there was a certain look exchanged between them, a subtle acknowledgment of shared secrets.

"Sir Ian, thank you for today. You’ve made an excellent choice for the endless future of Mereloff and this estate."

"Not at all. It was a satisfactory deal for me as well."

Though it seemed like a normal exchange, the lord felt a strange intuition. Was it because of the brief silence over the ring? The lord glared at Ian as he followed the lady out.

Bang!

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

As soon as the door closed, Beric grumbled irritably. Ian just shrugged and smiled, bewildered. He took out a small pouch and put the lady’s jewelry inside.

"By the way, that’s not even a real gemstone."

"What’s the big deal with gemstones? If it sparkles and has value to the public, it’s a gemstone."

"What if the lord doesn’t give the check tomorrow as he promised?"

"You worry too much. If he does, we’ll be grateful."

Ian handed the pouch to Beric with a smile, indicating that he should take good care of it.

"Since we’ve drawn up a contract, if he doesn’t fulfill it, we can file a formal complaint with the royal palace. Most border lords hate getting involved with the palace, so he’ll pay to avoid that."

And if he doesn’t pay? They would end up in court, and Ian would receive not only the principal but also compensation. It would be like trading gulra for more than 3,500 gold coins.

"Besides, even if we draw up a contract, the lord will likely cause a fuss, so we need a reason to protect ourselves."

Though they agreed not to interfere with economic activities, Ian couldn’t predict how the lord would react if they released the supply immediately after the deal. It would certainly be a troublesome situation.

"First, we’ll sell the roasted gulra. It’s unrelated to the lord’s profit for now, and later…."

"Later?"

Beric asked curiously, but Ian just shook his head with a smile, indicating he wouldn’t reveal more.

"Fine."

"Hey, why not tell me!"

"Go help with the work. That way, we can leave sooner. Oh, and tell the people of the estate that we’ll impose a 10% tax on the revenue from selling roasted gulra."

"Okay. 10%. One out of ten. I know that much now!"

It was unclear how much they would make. The additional revenue would depend on the sales skills of the estate’s residents. Beric stopped at the door, about to leave.

"What about that guy, Clark?"

"Ah, keep him. Since he has connections with the lady, he might be useful in some way."

"Don’t use him?"

Beric’s tone suggested he was unhappy. Clark probably felt like he was in prison, but Beric didn’t like the idea of him loafing around all day.

"Well, if you have a use for him, go ahead. Just make sure he doesn’t get hurt."

"Yay!"

Clang!

What was he planning to do…?

With Ian’s permission, Beric eagerly ran out. The curtain was drawn, and the gulra sorting work was almost finished.

* * *

"Ian-sama!"

"Yes, Hana. Another commotion today, I see."

"The steward from Mereloff has come. He says he has brought the payment for the gulra."

"Ah, I see."

With Ian’s permission, the steward from Mereloff entered the study. His refined movements and demeanor seemed better than the lord’s.

Creak.

"Please come in."

"I see you, Sir Ian. Here is the payment for the gulra we couldn’t pay yesterday. Excluding the 1,000 gold coins we prepaid, this is a check guaranteeing 2,500 gold coins. Please verify it."

The steward placed the envelope on a silver tray at the edge of the desk. Ian checked the check paper with the Hyman Bank’s seal, then examined the lord’s seal and handwritten signature.

"It’s fine."

"I’m relieved to hear that."

"I’ll have Hana bring the valuables the lady entrusted to us. Hana, ask Beric to bring the items."

"Yes, Ian-sama."

"Please have a seat and wait a moment. Is there anything urgent?"

"No, not at all. Thank you for your hospitality."

The steward, somewhat flustered, sat down. He had mentioned his business before the host offered him tea, which could be considered impolite.

But it was an uncomfortable situation.

Previously, the steward had sent a request for gulra trade under his own name. Although he didn’t receive a reply from Ian, upon reflection, it was like revealing Mereloff’s situation to the outside. It was as if he had given up the upper hand in the deal.

If the lord found out….

"Saimon, right?"

"Yes, that’s correct. You remember."

The steward managed to answer, shaking off his distracting thoughts.

"Well, I’ve read your letter several times."

Damn. He’s caught me. The steward felt his heart sink but maintained a calm exterior.

"From your name, it seems you’re not a steward from a noble family. Where are you from? Have you worked here for a long time?"

The steward remained silent, trying to gauge Ian’s intentions. He couldn’t understand why Ian was asking these questions.

"I’m not asking for any other reason. We need a steward here."

"I plan to spend the rest of my life in Mereloff."

"Ah, I see. Well, go ahead and do that. I’d like to offer some training, though."

"Training?"

He wondered if it was a recruitment attempt. Stewards were often key figures in noble households, and it wasn’t uncommon for nobles to try to poach them.

"Of course, we would need Lord Mereloff’s permission, but I wanted to let you know our intentions."

"…I’ll discuss it with him."

"Good. You’re a diligent and capable person, so it would be enjoyable to teach you. Naturally, the compensation would be generous. If you wish, we can return that man, Clark, to you. He has a lot of experience working in this estate, so he would be helpful."

The answer was obvious, but he asked anyway.

The lord would firmly refuse. However, this wasn’t really about asking the lord’s permission; it was a message to the lady. After the deed was done, if she wanted Clark, she could ask to borrow the steward.

"Yes, I understand. I’ll convey the message."

Knock knock.

"Ian-sama, Beric-sama has brought the pouch."

"Oh, right. Hana, come over here."

"Me?"

Hana placed the pouch on the table, and Ian introduced her to the steward with a smile.

"This is Hana."

"Ah, hello?"

"…I see. I understand."

Hana would be the next steward of this estate.

Hana, who didn’t understand the situation, awkwardly fidgeted her fingers and greeted the steward. After checking the contents of the pouch, the steward stood up.

"Well, I’ll be going."

"Good. Thank you for your work."

"Ah, I’ll see you out!"

Creak!

Ian watched the steward leave the mansion through the window. He then looked at the check for 2,500 gold coins on the tray and chuckled.

Clatter!

Meanwhile, the steward Saimon’s carriage began to move slowly, unable to pick up speed due to the increasing number of people on the street. He looked out the window and muttered to himself.

"It’s so cold, yet everyone is out…."

Curious about what they were doing, he frowned, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him.