Ethan traced his finger along the meticulously drawn sketch of a simple, yet sturdy, wheelbarrow.
“What is this?” asked Artos.
“I call it a wheelbarrow,” Ethan explained, tracing the spokes of the wheel. “A single large wheel in front, supported by two handles in the back for easy maneuvering. Perfect for transporting goods around town.”
The smith scrutinized the designs, a frown etching its way between his eyebrows.
“Interesting design for a cart,” he rumbled. “A hollow body with curved corners, and a single wheel.” Artos stroked his gray-flecked beard. “Yes, my lord. We might have some extra wood around that would work well enough. Regardless, this... wheelbarrow,” he said, tasting the word on his tongue, tracing the design with a thick finger, “this is ingenious, my lord. Easy to build, easy to use. Cheap. Revolutionary might be a tad strong a word. But it’ll certainly make hauling firewood a sight easier than your current backbreaking method. People—in need—would flock to buy them.”
Ethan had to stop a self-satisfied smile from stretching his lips. This would do it! He’d been rather shocked to see that this world had carriages, carts, the goddamn wheel, yet it didn’t have any type of wheelbarrow! What a perfect product with so few materials, so much potential, and no one else knew it was out there waiting to happen. He would own the local monopoly, and make bank off the sale to other towns. Why? Because the majority of the work was manual labor, so the wheelbarrow would make things easier for everybody in equal parts. He could hear the jingling clink of gold already.
“Indeed, people would flock them. And that’s where the second part of my proposition comes in. If you and your apprentices build these wheelbarrows, based on my blueprints,” he tapped the parchment, “I’m willing to offer a profit-sharing agreement.”
“Blueprint?” asked Artos.
Ah, they don’t have that term.
“Yes, a blueprint is... uh, how you say, a drawing showing everything about how to build a thing, in great detail. No room for error.”
Technically, it wasn’t necessarily a blueprint. While a wheelbarrow design could be documented in a blueprint (the old-school technical drawing kind), it wouldn’t be the most common term. A normal blueprint would be far too complex.
“Fascinating,” said Artos. Picking up Ethan’s sketches, he brought them to the nearest torch for closer scrutiny. “I’m up for a deal, my lord,” said Artos. Then, under his breath, he mumbled to himself as he traced the lines, “Wish we had the help of one of these scribes, these are highly detailed...”
Ethan coughed. Those weren’t even that impressive.
The deal itself was simple—Ethan would provide the blueprint, some of the materials, and the investment. Artos, in turn, would craft the wheelbarrows and handle the day-to-day production. The real crux, however, was the profit split. In most partnerships, the division of spoils followed a well-worn path. The one who supplied the raw materials typically took a larger cut, especially if the materials were rare or difficult to obtain. Here, Ethan held that advantage. Wood and basic iron were readily available, but it still required investment into a product that had yet to hit the market of this world at all. Then there was the question of skill. With his years of experience and honed muscle memory, Artos could make a wheelbarrow in his sleep. Ethan, on the other hand, had never stepped foot near a forge. His contribution was purely intellectual—the blueprint, the novel design that promised to revolutionize the way people hauled goods—as well as investment, along with providing materials.
A 50/50 split seemed fair on the surface, but was it? Ethan, after all, was taking on the financial risk. He was the one fronting the initial costs, the one who’d secured the wood and any additional materials, including metal. Then there was the marketing—creating a demand for their improved wheelbarrows. That fell squarely on his shoulders too. A 70/30 split felt… generous enough to the blacksmith while taking his own interests into account. He was offering Artos a chance to get in on the ground floor of something potentially groundbreaking. After all, Ethan wanted the leader of a Blacksmith Guild—even if it was just a branch in Holden. Ethan could easily get the man climbing higher in ranks by nudging him in the right direction with all the information he had in his mind—information far surpassing this era, at least in terms of technology.
“So, what do you say, Artos?” Ethan pressed, leaning back in his chair. “Are you in?”
“I'm going to have to hire some [Carpenters] for this and especially the water wheel. Regardless...”
Artos grinned.
“I'm in.”
Once he and the Artos hashed out a deal (with Ethan doing most of the talking), they shook hands. The deal was indeed a seventy-thirty split.
***
Done with the [Blacksmith], Ethan made it back to his manor, where he found Jack waiting patiently. He smiled brightly and they immediately set into the meeting room. Sitting down and glancing at the parchment full of... stuff, Ethan grinned.
The man was fucking efficient. It hadn’t even been that long. Did he already have all the information? How? Who is he? How did he get all this information so fast? Does he have someone backing him as I expected? If so, who? Why would they help him? Ugh, I hate not knowing something.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Regardless, Ethan met Jack’s eyes with a smile.
“Excellent work, Jack,” Ethan said. “Thanks for all the effort. I’d never imagined you to be so efficient in espionage”
“Not a problem, my lord!” Jack said, smiling lightly. “I’d love a mana crystal in exchange. Acting as a nexus has been rather taxing.”
That, too... he’s got to have a massive mana pool if he can act as a damn nexus—for which only a mana crystal is actually good enough. Hm...
Nodding, Ethan replied, “I can only imagine. I will get you a mana crystal as promised; however, you must remember that they’re not easy to get a hand on. Regardless, I know it must be extremely taxing. I really appreciate your efforts, Jack, I really do. You’ve only been working for meager pay for this long.”
“Thank you for your kind words, my lord. Your coin, as I’ve already told you, has been generous, but the real motivation has been what I could be getting out of the soap once it hits the market.”
Ethan, smiling lightly, turned towards the map of the town, which depicted not only its districts, but also a large chunk of surrounding regions, including Corinth, Westford, and quite a distance south of both, the town called Argent. Argent was a big barony, and Ethan had his eyes on it since the start. He wanted to strike a deal with the Baron of Argent, as that man would net him quite a big amount of money if he got interested in the soap. This is going to be one hell of a task to get past the rivers, though; I might need to think about bridges and creating new trade routes... I think cutting the forest in between Corinth and Argent would give me enough materials. But a wooden bridge... Hmm... Is it time to lay the groundwork for better and stronger bridges?
“Let me get right to it, milord: here’s a list of the topmost customers of the prostitutes’ guild in Argent, Corinth, Westford, as well as some... interesting travelers; most were the heads and wealthy merchants of various other shops in town. Others were travelers from as far west as Westford and as far east as Argent, and were all rich travelers—men who like their comforts. A few of them are influential.”
“Any notable nobles?”
“Yes. Strangely, there are far more prominent aristocrats around here than I’d have ever thought.”
Just as Jack said that, Ethan circled a particular one, recalling him from Theo’s memories.
“Kinsey,” Ethan read the circle out loud. He tilted his head a little in thought. “That’s one of the prominent nobles from Astra Lucis, the capital of Obsidian.”
“Huh, is that so, my lord?” Jack said. “What is he doing all the way out here?”
Ethan suppressed a grin, rubbing his chin and circling two more on the parchment. “So, we’ve got Ducart, as well as Lykren on our list... An influential lord, and a big merchant. Heh. Quite the dirt you got on ‘em. Nice. Gotcha. Regardless, what are they all doing in Corinth? That’s suspicious.”
Ethan grabbed the quill and wrote each name with an affiliation under them. He marked Lord Kinsey under Astra Lucis; that made sense, as that man is an ambitious prick who wanted nothing more but to be known throughout Obsidian as a philanthropist. What type of narcissism was that? Communal Narcissism? Or was the man actually a kind-hearted, generous, helpful, and selfless noble? Regardless, with Jack by his side, Ethan now could understand a great deal about the noble in question. He had his eyes set on becoming a Duke, of all things. Becoming a Duke was no small matter, Ethan knew. Anyway, Ducart’s from a city called Norich, and Lykren’s a merchant based in Ereg—both cities are in Obsidian. More specifically, they’re two cities closest to Astra Lucis... What’s happening?
Either way, Ethan closed the parchment, then turned his eyes to look outside the window of the meeting room which was located at the very top floor of the Manor. He could see the cloudy skies outside through a grandiose windowpane which gave a view of the whole town of Holden below. And the Deadwoods far off.
Sighing, he massaged his temples as his mind raced.
“Continue gathering information, Jack. If I want more information on a particular man, I shall tell you. Otherwise, try to gather all the info you can. Let me know at once if you find anything interesting. For now, I’m going to get started on a major project.”
Jack looked at Ethan with questioning eyes.
“Is it related to soap, my lord?”
Ethan slowly nodded his head.
“More like mass-production.” Ethan smiled.
***
Ethan focused on the sword. The outside world melted away and there was no one in the vicinity save for the two of them: himself, and the blade he sought. Taking a deep breath, he swung the blade slowly at the air, feeling its weight and balance. Swinging again and again, he finally managed to hit a fast yet very controlled and graceful-feeling slash. It sliced through the air without any resistance, and the lack of resistance told him of the excellent quality and craft of the steel.
He repeated the same swinging motion, keeping the same pace, breathing calmly. Over and over again he repeated the exact swing. If someone watched the same motion without changing and saw it more than a thousand times, they would surely go insane. Not Ethan. He had trained to be a boxer—and that hadn’t broken him, how would this?
After a long time of training with a sword, the sword suddenly flashed. A clean slash with no sound and no air resistance: perfect, flawless, a full 100% execution of what Ethan was intending.
It was then he felt a warm feeling. It felt like someone else was guiding him, helping him in controlling his movements. What the hell is happening? The feeling, although he didn’t notice it yet, was gone instantly. Then, a notification appeared in front of him.
What...
[Swordsmanship (Novice)] — Lvl 1 -> Lvl 2!
Ethan felt the slight change in his muscles after countless repetitions of the swings. Feels weird. It’s almost as if something guided my swing there, and then, after teaching me, it vanished.
***
Ethan wiped his brow. The heat of the forge appeared to be a constant assault even from a distance. He turned to Artos’s grizzled face etched with skepticism—the man was looking at a design that Ethan had given him. “What’s this for? It seems like—”
“Yeah, it’s a reverse mold, a negative of the soap design,” Ethan explained, gesturing to the intricate metal form. “We’ll pour soap into it, like hot metal. It’s a mold cavity that creates the desired shape for the final soap, and it also has my family’s lock shape etched into it. When you pour the soap batter into the mold, it takes the shape of the cavity after it hardens.”
Artos grunted. “I’ll need some time to get the waterwheel ready, the wheelbarrow, on the other hand, I have a prototype ready.”
“Oh?” Ethan made a surprised noise, that was indeed quite fast.
Artos shrugged, “I require it in here too, you know. It proved to be useful, and whatever is useful, it can be made far quicker than anything else when you put your mind to it.”
Ethan deadpanned, shaking his head.
“Get the waterwheel working,” Ethan said, then walked out with Roland in tow.
“Roland.”
“Yes, my lord?”
Ethan smiled, “This is gonna take some time here; I’ve given instructions, and production will begin once and for all. I’m not really required anymore. Let’s go to Corinth, you and I.”
“If I may ask, my lord, why?”
“It’s time to meet a friend.” Ethan’s smile widened into a grin.