After creating the soap, I confirmed via pigeon messenger that I was interested in becoming a suitor for the crown, provided I could receive lessons in magic. A reply informed me that King Redfield aimed to find the strongest candidate, with a tournament to be held for all suitors aged fifteen or older to compete for the position. Therefore, learning magic and swordsmanship was crucial, and competition among various kingdoms would be intense.
It was perfect.
I submitted my application and was accepted immediately. I suspect that Rema made an aggressive recommendation on my behalf. I wasn't happy about it, but I didn't hold it against her for acting rationally.
Would I choose to marry me? Probably. Does that make me a narcissist? I don’t care either way.
I celebrated my fifth birthday with my parents a few weeks early and said my goodbyes to everyone except Thea and Lyssa. The kingdom required me to bring servants, as no family would trust the kingdom to provide servants who might act as spies.
Thea and I bid farewell to all the other maids and cooks, such as Mark, with the latter being tearful and me offering everyone smiles and leaving them with small presents. Even though they knew I wasn’t the most sincere person and I wasn't a normal child, they embraced me warmly and watched me leave with bittersweet smiles.
I had a good childhood.
Even if it was based on manipulation and professional relationships, it was superior to the dreadful loneliness and social chaos I had experienced in my previous life. I was born in the right place this time.
The journey to the Verdanthall capital was a three-day journey to the south, through the Crimsonwood Forest surrounding our manor. The forest took its name from the color of the tree bark, which gave the area a somewhat ominous aura.
After all, margraves govern territories bordering other countries, and we were situated between Veridia and Ironfall, which made the passage of diplomatic envoys tense.
Furthermore, the traffic between the kingdoms and our territory turned it into a hot spot for career bandits specializing in economically motivated murder. It was purely about money, not sadism, and if Earth taught me anything, it was that there was no combination more horrifying.
Lastly, Crimsonwood Forest was brimming with wild beasts. This combination was what led Rema into danger. Bandits had set loose beast-tamed dire wolves and looted the caravan, hoping to capture the princess for ransom. That was the kind of territory it was.
So, naturally, we encountered bandits, wolves, and Ironfall simultaneously on the second day of the trip. Just our luck.
We were passing a carriage from the Ironfall Kingdom, marked with their ominous insignia of a silver circle and crimson swords. At that tense moment, all hell broke loose.
“Direwolves!” a knight at the front shouted. “They’re charging right at us! It must be the work of the Wolfpack Raiders!”
Like Thea, powerful beast tamers could control the minds of beasts and use them as weapons. However, finding someone who could manage several simultaneously, especially massive wolves, was rare. Our assailant was no ordinary individual.
'Of course, we're dealing with the worst of the worst,' I thought, securing the windows of our carriage with large iron shields to prevent arrows from penetrating.
“What are we going to do?!” Thea exclaimed, panic-stricken.
“We’re going to let the soldiers do their job!” Lyssa countered. “Don’t even think about playing the hero!”
“Of course not,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But if anyone breaks into this carriage—I’m killing them.”
I reached into my spatial bag, feigning to pull out a toy-sized sword, then closed my eyes. ‘Omnipotent Tool, silver tungsten carbide arming sword, small size,’ I thought, materializing a silver sword I could swing inside the carriage.
Though it looked like polished iron, tungsten carbide was typically used for industrial cutting tools because it was twice as dense, extremely hard, and could withstand 5,198 degrees Fahrenheit (2,870 degrees Celsius).
I gave Thea and Lyssa a stern expression. “Keep the details of what you see vague when interrogated. Do you understand?”
Lyssa and Thea couldn't omit details as they worked for my father and were bound to the kingdom, so telling them to stay silent was impractical and risky. On the other hand, instructing them to be vague would allow them to carry out their duties naturally with half-truths. That was far more manageable.
They nodded in a daze, their mouths agape as they examined the sword and registered my certainty.
“Thea, use your enhanced hearing to locate the troops,” I instructed. “They’re here for us. We need to know their positions.”
Thea swallowed nervously, nodded, and closed her eyes, tuning in to the fierce battle outside. “We’re surrounded; dire wolves are attacking from the east, bandits from the—”
BOOOM!
The cat girl flinched in pain when a large explosion from a fire mage jolted her sensitive ears. Nonetheless, she forced herself to resume listening.
“AghHHhhHH!” a knight screamed in agony as an arrow struck him, sending him flying into our carriage from the west and shaking us.
“They’re coming!” Thea warned. “Fast, from the west!”
“Got it!” I said, working through my chant and prioritizing the necessary layers in order.
6th tier chant–Butter Slice.
“Iron, iron oxide, iron sulfate, copper, keratin, heme, ferritin, collagen, calcium phosphate, hyaluronic acid, melanin, sebum, ceramides, cholesterol, lactic acid, glycerol, actin, myosin, adenosine triphosphate, creatine phosphate, glycogen, acetylcholine, calcium, potassium, sodium, hydroxyapatite, osteocalcin, osteonectin, osteopontin, osteocalcin, proteoglycans, glycoproteins, osteoblasts….”
BOOM! BOOM! CRAaaaCK!
The door to the carriage was blown apart, sending the shield flying. However, I was prepared, positioned on the intruder's right with my sword. He was clad in high-quality full-plate armor, something that ordinarily one would need to strike at the joints to penetrate.
'Separate on contact with tungsten carbide!' I silently ordered, swinging my sword. It effortlessly sliced through the man's iron helmet and head, spraying blood and brain matter throughout the carriage.
THUD!
Another man rushed in wearing leather armor, but it proved useless. “Roe! What’s happen—”
I lunged forward, impaling the man through the chest as easily as I had cut through the iron armor, the sword responding to the declared materials. No armor or chainmail could withstand the wrath of my little sword.
As for the risk of fire or arrows, I wasn’t overly concerned. These mercenaries were attempting to capture me, not kill me. Therefore, I wouldn’t back down until someone incapacitated me.
I withdrew my power to conserve mana, then readied it again, preparing for the next attack before commanding: separate.
GRRrrrr GHAT! GHAT!
A large, snarling wolf barreled through the area, tearing apart the disoriented knights who had managed to reach the western side of the carriage to protect us.
It stood out from the rest, a white wolf breathing blue flames.
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“Thea, can you slow that thing down or hijack it?” I asked.
“I-I-I can try!” Thea responded. She was a beast tamer and a divine beastkin, which made her quite unique. Therefore, if anyone could inherently take control of an expert’s dire wolf at seven, it would be her.
She closed her eyes and covered her ears, concentrating on the gigantic wolf. Her face contorted as she sensed the beast’s anger, pain, fury, and the expert's ruthless control.
“I can’t take over it, but…” Thea gulped, breaking out in a sweat. “Release!”
The dire wolf snapped out of its daze and leaped backward, evading an attack from one of our guards. It glanced around in confusion, growling at the carriage and retreating while barking.
“I didn’t tame you!” Thea shouted, aware of its hostility and caution. “The tamer is in the distance!”
As if a surge of memories flooded into the beast's silver, blood-thirsty eyes, it spun around and dashed into the forest with spectral speed.
“Rika! I command you to stand—AGHHhhHHHhhH!”
A woman in the forest shrieked as the dire wolf bore down on her, savagely tearing her apart. Once she died, the entire operation fell apart, with our trained border-protecting knights swiftly dispatching the bandits.
“You did well,” I commended Thea. Then I turned to Lyssa. “Offer minimal details when questioned. And no, for the 287th time, I’m not a demon lord.”
Thea's face lit up at the praise, and Lyssa swallowed and nodded.
Just a few minutes later, a knight tentatively approached. ”Lord Ryker? It’s over…?”
“It’s me,” I confirmed, stepping out, drenched in a grisly blood scene. “We’re safe, Edgar.”
“Oh, thank God,” a dark-skinned knight uttered, his brown eyes trembling. It was challenging to unwind when blood and brain matter were streaming out of the carriage he was assigned to safeguard. “We’ll remain here for a while to collect the bodies and gather intelligence.”
I nodded and regarded the man seriously. “Give minimal details about what you witnessed, and never speculate,” I advised, narrowing my eyes. “Do you understand?”
Edgar swallowed nervously. “I do, My Lord.”
After that, he removed the corpses from the carriage while a servant cleaned up the blood. A few hours passed as the guards burned the bodies, filling the air with a foul stench. Just as they were finishing, Edgar returned with an unusual expression. “Lord Ryker, someone… wishes to meet you.”
“Can it wait?” I inquired, glancing at the small cat-girl asleep in my lap. “I’ve finally calmed Thea down.” Thea was good to me, and I paid her back in kind however I could.
“Unfortunately not,” Edgar answered nervously. “It’s Stella Ironfall—the princess of Ironfall.”
I heaved what I believe was the deepest sigh I've ever released, which was quite the statement, wrapped in a paradox and topped with a twisted sense of humor I kept to myself. To put it simply, I was displeased.
“Please switch with me,” I requested of Lyssa, who nodded at once, silent and refraining from any backtalk. After they switched places, I made my way to the Ironfall caravan, where a silver-haired girl with red eyes wearing a black dress greeted me. Unlike Rema, she did have a weapon at her hip and was standing in a pool of blood as if it didn’t bother her. As my father had warned me years ago, Ironfall was the survival of the fittest, and princesses were no exception.
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[https://i.postimg.cc/d0yMNYZh/Margrave-female-noble-with-black-hair-in-front-of-a-silver-and-d2794b46-92a2-46c2-b2a0-c57dc57784a1.png]
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Stella waved my knights away, and they complied before she performed a curtsy. “Good evening, Lord Everwood,” she said, her silver hair catching the twilight's glow.
“Good evening, Princess,” I reciprocated with a slight bow, a gesture of respect between countries, even those at war. “How may I assist you today?”
“You really do converse like an adult,” she mused, a finger resting on her lips. Stella was ten years old, her sharp hazel eyes piercing through the setting sun.
“My father is a very tactful individual,” I retorted.
“Is that so…” Stella hummed. “Then I’ll get straight to the point. Fate itself brought us together at the same location tonight. Otherwise, I would have met my end.”
“It seems we both had a stroke of luck,” I responded. “We were in the same predicament.”
“Were you, I wonder?” she grinned. “See, unlike you, I was on the battlefield. Despite my status as princess, they directed their strongest fighter towards your carriage, and that hulk of a man mysteriously vanished. Then he reemerged later, half his skull gone. Furthermore, the alpha wolf abruptly changed direction and took out the most potent individual on the battlefield. That doesn't strike me as mere luck.”
I scowled, my gaze intensifying. “Do you consider me a demon lord?” I inquired. “Or are you digging for information about technology, magic, or other factors? I’ll give up nothing.”
“What if I offered you something far more enticing than a shot at power?” Stella pondered. “In Ironfall, the powerful can do whatever they please. They rule the world.”
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“And yet here you stand before me, an equal in this war,” I retorted, fully aware they were on the losing side. It caused her to frown, but I continued. “Strength is a subjective term, Princess Ironfall. While I respect and strive for physical strength, true power comes from economic might, which you’ll never achieve without peaceful institutions.”
“Nonviolence?” she scoffed. “Do you genuinely believe people can win a war of strength with economic growth?”
“They can if it is accompanied by weapons production,” I smirked, a clip of an atomic bomb exploding playing in my photographic memory. “There are degrees of violence, Princess, and you haven’t seen anything yet.”
Stella reverted to being a regular child, puffing out her cheeks in annoyance. “Well, thank you, fool,” she huffed. “I appreciate your divulging your country’s strategy.”
“You’re conversing with a five-year-old, a margrave's son, no less,” I teased, rolling my eyes toward the sky. “However, even if I were the king and disclosed every economic plan I had, the only change would be your awareness of why you were defeated.”
“You’re a cocky mongrel,” Stella laughed. “You're aware you’re talking to a princess, correct?”
“And you do realize people can hear your blatant solicitation, right?” I countered, starting to walk away. “It’s intriguing to ponder the type of diplomacy you’re jeopardizing right now.”
Stella was trying to coax me into considering her proposition so she could spread rumors about me. She was returning from Verdanthall, this being the typical route, and was aware that I was a potential ally. It was likely an attempt at blackmail or a power play. Whatever it was, I publicly insulted her while others were listening, leaving no room for doubt regarding where my loyalties lay.
This was politics.
‘Thank you for providing me with an excuse to insult a princess, Stella,’ I thought, grinning. ‘It was strangely satisfying.’
“At least answer this,” Stella called out, halting my departure. “Why did you say that Ironfall can’t achieve economic growth? That didn’t sound like mere pandering.”
“Because the strong are incentivized to maintain a world where they stay at the top,” I smirked. “Here's the catch: raw power and intelligence are seldom found together. As long as that remains the case, you’ll continue to eliminate your entrepreneurs and accountants. That mindset won't change until actual violence knocks on your door. By then, it’ll be too late.”
I walked away with a vicious expression. ‘My weapons will skull fuck your country, little girl,’ I internally declared. ‘Unfortunately for you, I will never forget you trying to use me as your pawn.’
---
Stella's eyes widened in shock as Lord Everwood vanished into the distance. "Real violence?" she mused, a sly grin spreading across her face. "No matter the cost, I need you on my side."
With those words echoing behind her, she walked away. Despite her current state—drenched in blood and fueled by ambition—she was resolved to win over the enigmatic child.
---
The rest of the journey to Verdanthall proceeded without incident. Verdanthall was a fortress town housing the king’s castle, and as we passed through the massive iron gates, a bustling courtyard unfolded before our eyes.
Cobblestone streets wound between sturdy timber-framed buildings topped with thatched roofs. The rhythmic clanging of a blacksmith's hammer echoed from a nearby workshop, where artisans meticulously crafted armor and weaponry. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the air from bustling bakeries, while the local market square was a riot of colors, with stalls selling all sorts of goods.
Farmers peddled their crops, while spice dealers returning from far-flung trade routes hawked their exotic wares. In one corner, a man walked on hot coals—demonstrating the power of human stupidity while haphazardly proving the law of Low Thermal Conductivity. Idiot.
There was no doubt about it: we had journeyed back in time to the Middle Ages.
“We’re approaching the castle soon,” Edgar announced. “When we get there, you’ll be met by servants who will guide you to your chambers and prepare a bath for you.”
Although we had washed in a stream and changed clothes en route, the smell of blood lingered on us. It was a scent that seemed to permeate every aspect of our surroundings, an unpleasant reminder of our recent ordeal.
Nobility in Valeria roughly followed those in Victorian Era England.
Upon entering the royal court, a chamberlain met us—a nobleman tasked with overseeing the internal affairs of the castle. After formal introductions, he introduced us to other court officials, who extended their greetings and listened attentively to our recounting of recent events.
News of our encounter with the bandits had spread far and wide, filling me with a sense of foreboding.
While some were thrilled by our heroic deeds, not everyone was pleased. Many traditionalists, who were heavily invested in maintaining the kingdom's hereditary structure, saw the rise of a meritocratic system as a threat to their birthrights. As such, the political games had already begun.
Despite my relatively humble background as a margrave’s son, I was accorded the same high-ranking accommodations usually reserved for the sons of dukes and princes. This included a luxurious suite within the palace, complete with two guest rooms, a master bathroom, and a lavish four-poster bed and couches.
Tomorrow promised formal receptions and entertainments, but for tonight, I had the luxury of a Roman-style bath and a peaceful sleep. As always, I slept soundly. After all, my abilities remained intact, and I was well-prepared for whatever lay ahead.
***
The next day began with a series of receptions. I and the other princes and noble suitors started our day with a grand banquet hosted by the king. Naturally, as a margrave’s son from the same kingdom, my status was insignificant in a room full of princes and dukes' sons from other countries with significant economic power. Consequently, the other suitors and their parents looked down on me. The sentiments of other high-ranking nobles were not dissimilar. However, a select few showed a keen interest in me.
“I heard you defeated the Wolfpack Raiders,” a blonde-haired noble inquired, his gaze evaluating me, clearly trying to ascertain if the rumors were true.
“You honor me with your jest, Margrave Knoles,” I replied with a polite smile. “However, the credit should go to Edgar and the other knights.”
“That’s a diplomatic response,” Samuel Knoles, Margrave of the Eastern Border, responded with a smile. “Nevertheless, the fact remains that Astrid 'Bloodfang' Wolfsbane, the leader of the Wolfpack Raiders, has led numerous successful attacks in that region, thanks to her wolf-taming skills. And here you are, the boy who saved Princess Redfield from the same wolves. It's hard to ignore the coincidence.”
The corners of my mouth twitched in a battle between my rational mind and a deep-seated desire to frown. ‘I didn’t save her!’ I protested inwardly. ‘I don't possess any beast-taming skills, either! Don't ruin this for me!’
I was pissed that people were spreading rumors of my strength. After all, I was here to prove that I was equally useful in business and production!
Yet outwardly, I maintained my composure. “You give me too much credit, Margrave Knoles,” I responded diplomatically. “I've simply been fortunate to be at the right place at the right time, surrounded by the right people. However, I do possess certain unique traits, and you will have an opportunity to witness them shortly.”
Samuel's eyes narrowed with interest. “Is that so?”
“It is,” I replied, a smile playing on my lips. “As a fellow margrave, I look forward to sharing my story with you after the gifting ceremony. I hope you'll consider my proposal.”
The noble smirked in interest. “A present to the king? How bold,” he smiled. “I look forward to it then.”
This conversation was one of many I had that day. News of the Wolfpack Raiders' defeat had spread like wildfire, creating a stir amongst the noble suitors. ‘I don’t want to play your game,’ I resolved inwardly. ‘Just grant me access to tutors and the library, and you can have Rema. I couldn’t care less about the marriage practices of the nobility.’
The day proceeded similarly until the gifting ceremony commenced.
“And now, by request of Margrave Leonard Everwood of Valedia, Lord Ryker Everwood has received an audience with the king,” a chamberlain announced formally, eliciting gasps of surprise from the assembly. An audience with the king was a rare privilege, usually reserved for high-ranking officials or foreign dignitaries. Yet here I was, a young lord without my father's presence, standing before the king.
The king appeared in his mid-twenties with silver hair adorned with red clothing. However, people in Solstice didn't age with enough soul mana, which they could get through slaying beasts or artifacts. Therefore, it was unsure whether he was twenty-five or a few centuries old.
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I approached the throne with due decorum and bowed before the king. “Your Excellency, I am Lord Ryker Everwood, son of Margrave Leonard Everwood of Valedia. Today, I have brought you a gift befitting Your Majesty and Queen Redfield.”
King Bernard Redfield III, seated on his red upholstered throne, looked on with an intrigued expression. “You may proceed.”
I retrieved a series of beautifully crafted boxes from my storage bag. Each box bore the crest of the Redfield Kingdom—a golden emblem encased by a silver phoenix—wrapped in luxurious fabric.
“I present to you, Dreamweaver Soap,” I announced proudly. “I have infused this soap with magical cores from the Dreamweaver Daisy, making it the most luxurious and hygienic surfactant currently available.”
“Magical core?!”
“Non-sense!”
“Who’s letting this kid speak?!”
The nobles whispered in a frenzy. While their voices were low, the number of whispers made them a broken symphony of discontent.
“Silence!” the Chamberlain commanded, restoring order to the hall. As a king's representative, his authority was unchallenged within the castle walls.
“Lord Everwood,” the king began, his gaze steady. “Are you aware of the implications of your claim? The court mages have long maintained that magical plants do not contain cores.”
I suppressed a chuckle. 'Of course, they would say that,' I thought, my mind brimming with bitterness. 'I’m about to embarrass every so-called "scientist" in this court. Assuming, of course, that I'm not accused of witchcraft or attempting to poison the king. If I survive both accusations, I'll likely make a host of enemies. In hindsight, I should've simply presented a luxurious soap.
Note to self: only show off if what you're presenting is a weapon, and you intend to kill who you're showing it to.’
“If I may,” I said, pulling out a red box. “This is Heartbeat Hibiscus soap. Simply by lathering it on your hands, you can feel the minor effects of the plant while cleaning your skin. It also smells like the flower. It's a far more suitable way to prove if it works.”
“I’m well acquainted with Heartbeat Hibiscus,” Chamberlain Rockfelt said. “Allow me to inspect it before you approach the king.” His words reverberated, shushing the crowd.
“Of course,” I replied, handing him the box. His eyes widened in shock when he opened it and smelled the aroma. “This….”
The king and queen became curious, trying to discern his expression. As was everyone.
“Speak, Chamberlain Rockwell,” King Redfield commanded.
“This smells just like Heartbeat Hibiscus,” he replied. “It’s the same color as well, and…” he touched his finger to it. “It feels just like soap.”
“If you wish, I will wash my hands with it before your eyes, Your Majesty,” I said, kneeling before the king. “I speak no falsehoods and offer no ill will. From what I've been told, this soap has the effects of Heartbeat Hibiscus, which cannot be obtained with soul magic.”
Soul mana can clean the body of diseases and harden the body over time. That is in an internal capacity that prevents aging and sickness. Externally, mages use soul mana to affix persistent spells like charms, hexes, and curses to items and areas.
My statement declared that mages did not affix magic to it and were thus the result of a magic core. It was undeniable, as mages couldn't replicate magic inherent in magical plants and artifacts.
“Y-Your Majesty!” a pugnacious noble yelled, his face red when the king curiously examined the red bar in the chamberlain’s hand. “You cannot be considering this! This boy has recently run afoul of Princess Ironfall!”
A ripple of whispers crashed outward from the man’s location as if his words were a drop in a still lake.
“Duke Tyress, you will hold your tongue,” King Redfield demanded. “This boy stems from a reputable family in close relations. According to my daughter, Princess Redfield, he saved her life from dire wolves, and the kingdom’s knights on his caravan have confirmed that he fought my daughter’s attackers and was instrumental in bringing them to justice.”
Dead silence.
Everyone stared blankly at me, not even blinking in their confusion. Those who knew of the encounter with Princess Ironfall spread it far and wide, omitting the full story. Moreover, the details about his daughter were not shared with anyone that wasn’t near the kingdom. Therefore, everyone was shocked when the full information on the situation came out.
“What’s more, my detail has reported that Lord Everwood was offered an unofficial deal by Princess Ironfall, and he bluntly refused and chastised her,” the king said. “Now, unless you have proof of foul play, I suggest you remain silent lest you insult the kingdom and paint your son in a bad light.”
Duke Tyress and his son trembled in fear and immediately offered an apology while the other nobles spreading the negative rumors and half-truths, held stiff expressions. After all, everyone knew they were spinning a negative narrative about me. However, they didn’t expect to be put in their place by my achievements.
That was satisfying.
‘Everyone’s already building alliances to undercut each other so their son comes out on top,’ I internally scoffed. ‘This game is bloodthirsty, and I don’t want to play it.’
After some procedures, I washed my hands with water and a pale cloth provided by the kingdom, which barely affected my stoic emotions. After I was done, Chamberlain Rockwell washed his hands and waxed lyrical, expressing deep admiration as per the effects of the soap.
Finally, after explaining that the soap also incorporated glycerin and thus moisturized the hands, Queen Redfield’s curiosity became too much, and she tried it out.
“T-This…” Queen Redfield gasped. “What’s this… rock in it? It’s strange yet delightful.”
“It’s just oatmeal,” I smiled. “It’s acting as an exfoliant, which is scraping the dead skin off your hands while the glycerin is moisturizing it. It also helps the lathering as well, as it breaks up the soap.”
“Well?” King Redfield furrowed his brows, looking at his wife. “What do you think?”
The queen looked up at him with a flushed face and a quickened pulse, her chest rising and falling. “We must obtain more of this,” she declared. “I’ve never felt anything so heavenly in my life, and my mood has improved. There’s no doubt, this is Heartbeat Hibiscus.”
Though a rare flower, Heartbeat Hibiscus was a staple of noble society, providing them with a natural anti-depressant in the form of tea. Therefore, the Queen, and everyone else in the room, would have tasted it at least once in their life.
“How many flowers did you put into this?” King Redfield asked, his eyes fixed on me like a hawk.
“Just one, Your Majesty,” I smiled. “I believe its effectiveness is due to the magical core within the plant still being whole and drawing in spirit mana as we speak. If what you said is true, I believe that I can bring about a revolution in magic, not only in soap, but in countless other trades such as pharmaceuticals, energy boosters for soldiers, and persistent magical artifacts.”
Drugs.
My words shifted the atmosphere in the room, charging the area with a strange and palpable energy. The once cut-throat nobles no longer expressed their suspicions and ceased all rumors. Depending on the king’s next sentence, I could become one of the most powerful people in the kingdom—someone they wouldn’t want to cross.
King Redfield looked me in the eye. “How did you do this?”
“I’d rather save that information for a private audience,” I replied. “However, I will disclose it and ask for a thirty-year monopoly on the process before making my research available to all nobles.”
Shock spread through the room. While talk of a royal monopoly immediately caused resentment, the equally absurd notion that I would willingly disclose the information immediately counterbalanced it!
King Redfield seemed intrigued by my proposition. “Why give such a number?”
'Introducing the modern patent system will spur an economic revolution by incentivizing guilds to release their trade secrets in exchange for high profit margins,' I thought.
Naturally, I translated that, in simpler terms, aloud.
“I’m trading my invention for the right to sell it without competition,” I explained. “It protects me because no one gets the patent if I die from foul play. However, once I make it past thirty years, all nobles can make hefty profits using the technology and that will benefit the entire kingdom.”
Patents. Competition. Capitalism.
Modern patents allow people to sell their inventions for two decades without competition. Once it expires, the details become public, allowing others to start similar businesses. This system changed the world because craft guilds like blacksmiths released their trade secrets for the first time, making advanced processes public and spurring growth.
It wasn’t a coincidence that patent laws immediately preceded the industrial revolution.
That’s what I wanted. After all, an industrial revolution meant manufacturing large weapons that could decimate a demon army!
“Most importantly,” I continued. “Simply announcing this soap is a declaration of the existence of mana crystals in magical plants. Naturally, that could cause significant social and economic disruptions. Thus, with a thirty-year buffer, it gives time for society to adjust.”
“I’m amused,” King Redfield chuckled, narrowing his eyes and looking at the shocked nobles. “I’ll give you a private audience to disclose your findings.”
A collective gasp of shock and apprehension spread through the crowd. After all, it was the start of the competition for suitors to marry Princess Redfield, and I had a lead too staggering for them to overcome. It endangered my well-being; however, I had a strategy to win them over.