In the end, Vincent didn’t get an answer, but based on his years of business experience, he figured that this investment was likely a waste. However, Derek wasn’t a merchant and had no authority to interfere. On the contrary, as a young knight full of vigor, he should be fostering good relationships.
The merchant convoy stayed for two days, acquiring a large quantity of furs before returning. The journey back was slightly different. Vincent busily collected various supplies along the way, wanting to pile the wagon as high as a mountain. Watching the horses struggle to pull the heavy load, Derek felt a pang of sympathy. Indeed, in any world, capital is ruthless. The only difference is who gets exploited.
Derek could only remind himself to exploit others rather than be exploited. As they neared the city of Watchtower, another piece of good news emerged. The nag belonging to Simon, the knight’s squire, joined the roster and quickly advanced to average quality. It’s no exaggeration to say that the price difference from this back-and-forth transaction was at least three gold coins. The exorbitant profit was secondary; having a source for warhorses was what mattered most.
Fully armored heavy cavalry represented a decisive force in this age of outdated combat methods, akin to the deterrence of nuclear weapons. This relied heavily on excellent warhorses. Upon returning to the city to hand over the mission, Derek recorded the details in a tavern, keeping it on file. In the future, if any merchant convoys wanted to hire him, this would serve as a reference, and if he performed exceptionally well, they might even pay more. For instance, Vincent reluctantly handed over two gold coins as a reward for this mission.
After the handover, Derek returned to his base. With limited training and rising levels, the remaining spear soldiers had little room for improvement. On the other hand, the three blacksmiths were becoming increasingly skilled, with Little Tru even able to forge quality iron swords independently. Derek continued to build his strength while taking on small surrounding tasks to allow the spear soldiers to gain experience.
After some time, they had gained a bit of reputation. The mercenary circles in Watchtower had heard of a group of fierce fighters with excellent credibility. Money was steadily increasing, and strength was growing stronger. Yet, Derek still felt anxious, a sense of urgency nagging at him. Without land or a population, even a seemingly promising venture ultimately had its limits. For example, the territory of Baron Ferreira had only about four or five thousand residents; could he recruit soldiers without restrictions?
Most free folk had their own land and industries and wouldn’t come to serve as soldiers. Those without land and means were all the serfs of the nobility, their mobility restricted. Furthermore, farming and livestock were merely means of production. In this feudal society, the ceiling had already been locked down; no matter how hard one tried, there was no way to break through.
Unless one could break the class barriers, growth would be stifled. Currently, the output from the three blacksmiths barely covered costs, and if he wanted to expand the business, lacking a strong backing meant he would eventually be consumed.
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Derek understood the nature of the nobility very well; he wouldn’t take risks. Maintaining the status quo seemed satisfactory on the surface. A small estate in the northern province would cost around five thousand gold coins. If he worked hard for fifty years, he might save enough for one. For people of this era, leaving such a legacy for future generations was quite impressive. Just look at the Perez family; even over the years, they had managed to save for only two small estates, and that was with relatively good management.
Derek should be content. But contentment was the last thing on his mind. After traveling through time, was he really supposed to live his life complacently? Besides, what if an accident happened along the way, and he didn’t make it to fifty? This world offered him no sense of security. Unless he took fate into his own hands.
Some small wars might present an opportunity, but Derek was reluctant. The kingdom’s politics operated under a typical dual monarchy. Nobles nominally under the king had obligations to him but were relatively free. However, those appointed by larger nobles might continue to hold positions in the kingdom, yet political freedom was virtually nonexistent. The feudal lord's stance was your stance. Unless a feudal lord revolted, it was nearly impossible to refuse any of their requests.
Moreover, most political resources in the kingdom remained in the king’s hands. Even the descendants of your family would be subject to the whims of their descendants. Breaking class barriers and seizing power was difficult while relying on major nobles and came with restrictions. The best way was to go to the capital and grasp the kingdom's core resources.
However, the Ferreira family was just a rural noble without the political resources to become a kingdom official; even if they had them, it wouldn’t be within his reach. Thus, he found himself trapped in a vicious cycle. Unless a large-scale war broke out, granting military honors and titles, and gaining visibility from the king, it would require a bit of power and resource struggle.
What Derek awaited was the war with the northern barbarians, who had seized much of the kingdom’s land during its period of fragmentation. As the kingdom regained its strength, it would inevitably launch a reconquest. This was a realization shared by astute individuals, but the timing could be tomorrow, or it could be ten or twenty years down the line. Derek once thought he could wait but now found he lacked the patience.
Of course, all this impatience stemmed from the prying eyes around him. A business with an annual value of over a hundred gold coins, especially in the arms trade, made many envious. It was only because of his knightly title, the family’s backing, and his personal martial prowess that the greedy gazes had temporarily shifted away. However, if the scale expanded, it would attract greed again. The first to act could very well be his own patron, Baron Ferreira.
Indeed, what did familial ties matter in the face of family interests? A business that could account for a significant portion of the family’s income still boiled down to Derek underestimating the value of a qualified blacksmith.
Why are blacksmiths so valuable? The skills of smelting and forging were incredibly precious in this era. Most blacksmiths crafted quality weapons purely based on instinct and experience. This rarity made them highly profitable. Moreover, even the transmission of these skills was cautious and conservative. Only a few factions that summarized advanced techniques monopolized the industry.
The existence of panels was akin to a cheat, transforming luck into certainty. Every blacksmith could become skilled with enough time. What a desirable power! Once Derek realized this, he didn’t dare to continue adding points. Yet, a fire burned within him; he needed to find a place away from prying eyes to fully utilize the panel's abilities. He believed that just one opportunity would propel him rapidly onto the historical stage.
And he had set his sights on a goal.