by Funa
Plus, as far as Mile was concerned, using recovery magic every time you were a little tired, and healing magic any time you were a little sore, was something of an affront to the human experience.
And so Mavis’s fate—three days of bed rest—was sealed.
Three days later…
Though the other three members of the party had suggested extending their vacation even further, Mavis had insisted that she could be a burden no longer, telling them not to trouble themselves on her account. So, half-heartedly, they set out for the guild hall.
Of course, they took their time, not heading out as early as usual.
Even Mavis had no objection this time, as she was clearly in no shape to be pushing into the scramble that was the morning rush of hunters competing to snatch up the best-paying jobs.
“Now what could that be?” asked Pauline.
The other three followed her gaze, spotting some manner of crowd gathered before one of the local shops.
This area was something of a small business sector, filled with shops that catered to individual buyers. The shop that the crowd was swarming around was one such modest affair, which appeared to be an apothecary.
Or in less antiquated language, a drugstore.
Even though healing magic existed in this world, one could not always be expected to have a capable mage on hand. Beyond the fact that there were already very few mages of any considerable skill, performing healing spells was incredibly difficult, unlike simply making fire and water. Indeed, it was just like with combat spells…
The difficulty of combat spells came from having to make several different images concrete at once. The issue of healing magic, conversely, was having to tangibly visualize an image when people had so little understanding of the workings of the human body. Though the degree and type of difficulty of these spells varied quite a bit, this did not change the fact that they were both high-level art forms.
Because Mile had taught the girls of the Wonder Trio and the Crimson Vow about things like the structure of the human body, including cell division, nerves, and blood vessels, they were able to form a far more concrete image of the healing process (which was then unconsciously transmitted to the nanomachines). As a result, their efficiency rose greatly. For a normal mage, however, who could do little more than pray, “Heal!”— a spell might simply stabilize a broken bone or close up the exposed portion of an open wound, while still leaving nerves, blood vessels, and tendons severed.
Furthermore, in the case of illness rather than injury, it was not unusual for someone to use a healing spell incorrectly and actually stimulate the root of the illness, causing the patient’s condition to deteriorate even further. Therefore, excluding the cases where a person’s illness was so severe that they had nothing to lose by trying magical healing, healing spells were typically avoided in the case of patients who were sick.
In addition, using magic to heal an illness meant that the body did not have the chance to build up the appropriate antibodies, so the rate of relapse from any remaining virus within the body was high. Healing magic simply was not an all-purpose discipline—unless, of course, you were Mile, who had a decent knowledge of medical science.
Even Mile had not taught her fellow party members about how to cure illnesses. She only nagged and lectured them on fundamental health protocols, such as “Make sure you wash your hands whenever you get back to an inn,” and “Don’t eat food that’s fallen on the ground.” Should someone become ill, Mile would much rather wait until they got back to an inn and deal with it herself; she feared what deadly outcome might occur if a spell were handled wrong.
Mile judged that the danger of this was incredibly high, and in this case, that judgment was probably correct. Promoting the cellular multiplication of cancer cells with magic in the name of healing would be missing the point entirely.
Plus, except in the case of mid- or large-scale mercantile operations, travelers were not always going to have a mage with healing abilities traveling with them. Then there were those with chronic illnesses and generally frail constitutions.
Therefore, even in a world like this, with healing magic available, the medical and pharmaceutical industries were still thriving, and it was not doctors who prepared drugs. If one wished for medicine, one went to where the materials were gathered, prepared, and sold: an apothecary.
It was just such a place around which the townspeople were now gathered.
It was party policy for the Crimson Vow to stick their noses in whenever it seemed that something interesting was going on. Furthermore, though they had been headed to the guild to look for a new job at Mavis’s insistence, the other three still believed that Mavis ought to rest up a bit more, so any distraction was a godsend.
Quickly, before Mavis could catch on, the three exchanged a knowing look.
In a stilted voice, Pauline proposed, “Let’s go find out what’s going on!”
“Excuse me,” Pauline asked a young man of around seventeen or eighteen who was standing nearby, “What’s all the fuss about over here?”
The young man was not about to complain about a cute, buxom girl talking to him. “Ah, it’s those three over there. They’re the owner of this shop, the head of a large trade operation, and the butler of a baron’s household, apparently,” he explained, pointing to three people who appeared to be quarreling. “It seems like the baron’s daughter is ill, and the butler was here waiting for a shipment of medicine, but when it got here, that merchant swooped in and tried to buy it all!”
“Huh…”
That couldn’t be it, the members of the Crimson Vow thought. All the shopkeeper would have to do was say, “These goods are already spoken for,” and that would be that. Pauline expressed as much to the young man. However…
“You would think so, but the problem is a little shop has no chance of standing up to a big guy like that. There are a lot of internal politics over at the Merchants’ Guild.”
“Still, it would be one thing if this were a normal citizen we were talking about—this is an emissary of a noble! Would he rather go against a noble?” Pauline asked.
The young man, however, could only shrug. “Even if he’s a noble, it’s not too surprising that a poor baron would have less influence than a powerful merchant. It’d be one thing out in the baron’s own lands, but here in the capital he’s got nothing to hold over us commoners. Plus, when you’re talking about someone that rich, people tend to overlook the fact that they’re essentially killing in the name of profit and just wave the whole thing off. Anyway, it’s not even the baron himself, just his butler. He hasn’t got a leg to stand on.”
“………”
Pauline thanked the young man and turned back to the others. There was clear displeasure upon her face.
Ah, there it is…
The others had seen this look on Pauline’s face a million times. It meant the same thing as when Mile’s face went blank.
Apparently, this had offended Pauline’s “pride as a merchant.” However, given that Pauline tended to her own mercantile excesses, the others still had yet to grasp quite what the criteria for such a violation was. And in truth, Pauline was not actually a merchant herself, only a merchant’s daughter.
That said, there was never any telling what Mile’s criteria for evaluating a situation were—and Mavis was always judging things from the standpoint of a knight, even though she was nowhere near one yet.
It was a topic not to be broached. None of them were prepared to go down that road with one another.
“I am telling you, that medicine is for the household of the baron of whom I am an employee and whose daughter is quite ill!”
“Sure, you had a contract, but it’s not like you paid ahead of time, right? It only makes sense for a merchant to sell to the one who gives him the best price. Ain’t that right, sir?”
Both sides pressed him, but the weak-willed, if honest, apothecary had neither the bravery to make an enemy of an influential merchant n
or the nerve to flat out refuse a request from a noble household. Thus, the only thing that he could say was:
“I-If you two could settle this among yourselves…”
This was the seller’s repeated reply, which left them all at a stalemate.
Pauline locked eyes with the other three members of the Crimson Vow, and received their nods as confirmation, before cutting into the conversation between the three men.
“If I may?”
Normally, the chief merchant would reply with something like, “We don’t need any busybodies here,” but perhaps because the conflict was in a deadlock, or perhaps because he was feeling confident in his superiority, or maybe even because he had a vested interest in the comings and goings of four beautiful young girls, he replied unexpectedly.
“Sure, that’s all right. What can I do for you?”
Pauline was a little taken aback, having expected to have to butt her way in by force, but with this fortuitous reply, she spoke. “Um, well I can understand why the butler here should want those goods—it’s for his master’s sick daughter, after all. But why might it be that you would like to get your hands on those goods, sir? Do you have someone ill waiting on you as well?”
The merchant laughed and replied, “Of course not, nothing of the sort. I’m a merchant, and so I like to stock lucrative goods. That’s all there is to it.”
“What?”
There was a resounding sound of shock and bewilderment, not only from Pauline and the rest of the Crimson Vow, but from the butler, the shopkeeper, and the crowd of spectators as well. Everyone had assumed that the merchant had only gone to such overbearing lengths to try and intercept the medicine because he had some extenuating circumstances of his own.
Was this truly about profit alone?
That was the reason why he would take the medicine away from a sick young noble who needed it?
And for him to declare it so brashly, not even trying to hide his motivations… It defied common sense.
“Would that medicine really sell for all that much?” Pauline asked, this time addressing the shop owner.
“N-no. I mean, there’s something of a shortage of it because we haven’t been able to collect very much, but it doesn’t sell that often. And these are unprocessed, so they really aren’t all that valuable. This whole week’s shipment is worth maybe five gold.”
Five gold pieces for unprocessed medicine that might not be effective—the equivalent of around 500,000 yen in Japanese money. Of course, any commoner would not think that amount very cheap at all, but for a noble or a wealthy merchant, it was a pittance.
“You’d pick a fight with a noble household over as little as that? And now you’re boasting about it? Wouldn’t that be bad for your company’s reputation? I don’t see why you’re bothering with all this…”
The merchant calmly explained, “Honestly, not really. We specialize in bulk transactions and wholesale operations. Except for merchants like this fellow, we don’t really do individual retail, so our reputation among the common folk doesn’t matter much. Plus, that five gold that the owner here mentioned is only the price in standard circumstances. If there’s a buyer that absolutely needs to get their hands on something, then the seller can ask for whatever they like.
“Take this baron’s servant, for example. Even if he placed a new order now, who knows when he’d get it? Because he absolutely needs it, I could sell it to him for ten times the standard price. Or say some other noble wanted to stick it to the baron. Why, I could sell it to them for even more. I don’t know what such a challenger would do with all the medicine they bought, but honestly, that’s none of my concern.”
Hearing this, the color drained from the butler’s face.
Pauline replied, “Th-that’s true… But for a merchant, that’s practically…”
“Heresy?” the merchant preempted. “I mean, what do you think an auction is? It’s nothing but a way to extort as much money as you can from whomever wants to get their hands on something the most, regardless of actual cost or value. No one comes kicking in an auctioneer’s door, do they?”
“Er…”
Pauline found herself lost for words.
Reina nudged Mile in the back, urging her to do something, but for once even Mile could think of nothing to say in response. While she was still deep in thought, the merchant put forth a proposal.
“If we keep on like this and neither side yields, then this isn’t going to go anywhere. How about this: Since we’ve brought up auctions now, why don’t we call it just that—an auction? Goods go to the highest bidder. That way there’s nothing objectionable, and the owner here is guaranteed to make a little extra as well. How’s that? Of course, the payment will be expected up front and in full, with no deferments.”
As he spoke, the merchant pulled his purse from his breast pocket.
The butler stared at the merchant’s purse with sharp eyes. Judging by the size of that purse, he couldn’t possibly be carrying that much money, even if it’s all gold coins inside. Yet it would be impossible for him to have any less than what he intended to buy the medicine with, along with some extra rainy day emergency funds, and whatever he needs for himself, so…
“Very well. I accept your proposal!”
Oh no…
Pauline smacked her hand to her forehead, and Mile shrugged her shoulders.
Reina and Mavis had yet to realize the truth of the matter, but naturally Mile and Pauline had grasped it immediately. The merchant before them was not one to take on a challenge that he had no chance of winning. Judging by the look on his face, he most certainly had something up his sleeve.
Most of the surrounding spectators, particularly the ones who looked like merchants themselves, grimaced as well, looking at the butler with pitying eyes…
“Is this fine by you as well, good sir?” the merchant asked to the shop owner, who nodded approvingly.
This solution allowed him to avoid the enmity of both a merchant who was incredibly influential within the guild, as well as that of a noble household—and plus, his profits seemed like they were about to go way up. Naturally, he had no objections.
“Well then, let’s begin. I’m the one who proposed this, so I’ll start the bidding. Five gold pieces.”
With that, the merchant drew five gold coins from his purse and placed them on the table in front of the shop.
“Seven gold pieces!”
In turn, the butler shoved his hand into his purse, pulling out seven gold coins. Rather than inching the price up bit by bit, he made a bold increase that he hoped would see his opponent quickly crushed.
“Eight gold pieces.”
The merchant increased his bid by only one, prompting the butler to move boldly again.
“Ten gold pieces!”
The price went up and up, until it finally passed 25 gold pieces. However, the butler showed no signs of agitation.
Judging by the size of that purse, he couldn’t have had more than thirty gold pieces in there. It was probably only 27 or 28, and that’ll soon be spent. I, on the other hand, was provided 20 gold pieces by my master for the sake of obtaining the medicine in case a large amount should come into stock, as well as an extra ten gold pieces in case any unexpected situations should arise. On top of that, I myself have another three gold and five half-gold on my person. His coins should be running out soon…
The price had ended up running higher than expected, thanks to this merchant, but even for a lower-ranking noble, twenty or thirty gold pieces was no enormous matter.
“Then I’ll bid 27… Oh?”
The merchant made yet another two-gold increase to the bid, but what came out of his purse was only one gold coin. Apparently, he had reached the bottom of his bag.
I won!
The butler was thrilled.
“Hm, I could have sworn I packed at least one more coin in this purse before I left, it should have been here…” the merchant said, rummaging in his pockets.
Eve
n if he pulls out one or two more, it doesn’t matter. I’ve won! the butler thought, with a sigh of relief. However…
“Oh, there it is! This should make it 27 gold!”
With that, the merchant placed one coin down on the table, picking up nine from the existing pile and slipping them back into his purse.
“Wh…?”
The eyes of the butler, the Crimson Vow, and the rest of the spectators went wide.
There, on the table, was one more coin. It was an orichalcum coin.
In this world, white silver—in other words, platinum—had very little worth. It looked like silver, but as it had a much higher melting point, manufacturing equipment could not melt it down, so it was treated as nothing more than “false silver,” a rubbish material. What took its place as the most-prized mineral was mithril, also known as holy silver, or orichalcum.
Items made of mithril, or even better yet, orichalcum, which were both rare metals, were out of the reach of most common folk. On Earth, this would be the equivalent of having a sword made of platinum.
And so, an orichalcum piece was worth ten gold pieces. It was such a hefty currency that no one would just walk around with it on their person or use it for day-to-day transactions…normally.
“What do you think? That’s 27 gold, isn’t it?”
The merchant grinned smugly.
“S-so it is…” Pauline said begrudgingly.
The merchant’s trap had finally been revealed. However, this move wasn’t underhanded enough to invite criticism. It was customary for merchants and travelers to have some extra funds stashed away in case of a dire emergency. The butler’s reading of the situation had simply been too naive.
The butler’s face twisted in shock, confusion, and anguish.
If he could just say that this defeat would be a good lesson for the future, that would be one thing, but this was a matter that involved his master’s daughter. Plus, there was the possibility that someone could now hold that medicine hostage, to make unreasonable demands of the baron’s household.