Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 332 Money Bag and Sword Hilt

The Priskin boy is strange; he always manages to cause Winters a little trouble at the most inopportune moments, like now.

With an unrelated person in the living room, it became difficult to discuss topics that were originally quite private.

Winters sighed inwardly – ​​it seemed the conversation would have to wait until dinner time to continue.

The official reason Mr. Leo appeared at Winters' residence was that Winters was hosting a farewell dinner for him.

Leo has already bid farewell to Winters, as the transshipment of the wool still requires his personal coordination, and the partners of Navarre Trading Company will soon be leaving Iron Peak County.

Even at this critical juncture, Leo remained silent about Ms. Navarre's matter, as if nothing had happened.

Leo could restrain himself, but Winters couldn't bear to watch Anna continue to suffer while waiting.

Since running away from home, Anna feels a tightness in her chest whenever she thinks about how her mother might react.

Catherine, however, scoffed at Anna's anxiety, while Mrs. Navarre, true to her optimistic nature, comforted her sister: "What's done is done, and we're Mom's own daughters, what can she do to us?"

When faced with frustrating and unsolvable problems, the human instinct is to "not think about them." It's as if the problem ceases to exist as long as we don't confront it.

However, Mr. Leo's arrival lifted the veil covering the scars, making it impossible for the person involved to continue deceiving themselves.

Whether it's good wine or bad wine, there will eventually be a day when the bottle is opened.

Winters invited Mr. Leo to his home under the guise of seeing him off, intending to sit down and confront the problem directly, and then resolve it.

However, Winters was vaguely worried that Madame Navarre's attitude might be too sharp and could provoke Anna. Therefore, he took the opportunity before the formal start of the dinner to have a talk with Mr. Leo beforehand.

Before we could even get to the point, an uninvited guest arrived.

Winters glanced at the uninvited guest, a slight line appearing between his brows. He adjusted his collar a few times—the sweater was a bit too tight around his neck; Ms. Navarre's knitting skills clearly had much room for improvement.

The uninvited guest showed no awareness whatsoever; when little Priskin saw the expression on the Blood Wolf's face, even the tips of his ribs trembled.

That gesture... meant slitting one's throat?
Little Priskin's Adam's apple bobbed as he sat up straighter. Little did he know that at that moment, the source of his fear was actually his frantic attempt to recall the customs and traditions of the Paratians.

Winters regretted that his understanding of Platonic culture was not deep enough. When he actually needed to use it, he couldn't think of any action in Platonic culture that meant "That's enough, get out of here, see you out."

“Mr. Priskin,” Winters asked kindly, “is your horse tied up outside in the yard? Bring it into the stable first, lest it freeze.”

“No.” Little Priskin, trying to decipher Blood Wolf’s thoughts, quickly replied, “I walked here.”

"That won't do. I'll get you a horse."

"This...this is going to exile me?" Little Priskin felt a pang of sadness and repeatedly declined, "It's quite close, not far at all, I can walk back."

Winters, having run out of ideas, dropped the formalities and asked bluntly, "What do you want from me?"

Little Priskin glanced at the round-faced fat man sitting on the other side with a smile, then at Blood Wolf, and finally looked at the tips of his shoes.

He said hesitantly and indistinctly, "My grandfather... oh no, it was me... who came to confess to you about the military merit certificate... no, the matter of the head scroll..."

“Military merit certificate? What’s wrong?” Winters leaned back, puzzled. “Wasn’t your head coupon business doing quite well?”

Winters gestured with his chin toward Mr. Leo: "Even Mr. Leo speaks highly of you and said he wanted to meet you. It's quite a coincidence that if you hadn't come today, it would have been difficult for the two of you to meet again."

Upon hearing this blatant threat, little Priskin nearly burst into tears. He stood up abruptly, shaking his head frantically, and the cup in his hand fell to the ground and shattered instantly.

Winters didn't understand how his words had offended the other man. He looked at Priskin Jr. strangely, then at the shards on the ground.

Little Priskin hurriedly bent down to pick up the cup's remains.

Winters chuckled, then reluctantly rose from his seat and reached out to help the Priskin boy clean up the mess: "What's wrong with you?"

Mr. Leo, who had not participated in the conversation, spoke up with a smile: "I think... this Mr. Priskin thinks of you as a cruel person like [the Butcher Duke]."

"Is that so?" Winters asked little Priskin in surprise.

“No.” Little Priskin’s eyes widened in horror, and he shook his head like a windmill: “No.”

Winters sighed as he recalled Anna's words.

After picking up the sharp porcelain shards one by one and placing them in the plate, he looked at little Priskin's tearful face and patted him on the shoulder: "What's past is past, you don't need to be so afraid of me. It's just a pity about this cup of mine, this is the only tea set I have to serve guests."

"I'll send you another set when I get to Maplestone City," Mr. Leo said with a smile.

"Never mind." Winters slumped onto the bench, looking rather dejected. "Even if you give me the porcelain cup, I'll just break it again sooner or later."

“It’s alright, I’ll prepare a set of enamelware for you.” Mr. Leo replied with ease: “Iron body with porcelain surface, it won’t break no matter how you drop it.”

Being compared to the Duke of Butchers always left Winters with a sour taste in his mouth. He considered himself to have never gone on a killing spree like the Duke of Butchers, and was, to put it mildly, tolerant and merciful.

He longed to ask little Priskin, "Why are you so afraid of me? What did I do to scare you?" However, he knew he wouldn't get a real answer, and could only sigh helplessly in the end.

“The rich will always be afraid of the one who wields the sword.” Mr. Leo seemed to understand Winters’s inner turmoil and smiled as he comforted him, “That’s just how it is, it’s always been like that.”

"The rich are afraid of those who wield swords," Winters pondered the saying, and couldn't help but smile. "And you? You're afraid of those who wield swords too."

“Of course,” Mr. Leo said frankly. “Otherwise, why would I have followed Colonel Cabino to Iron Peak County? It’s because I’m too afraid to go out on my own.”

"So once people have money, they start pursuing power?" Winters recalled a historical anecdote: "Like Crassus?"

Leo tilted his head slightly, because he didn't know who Crassus was. Winters briefly recounted the life of Marcus Licinius Crassus.

After listening, Mr. Leo remained silent for a moment: "That's probably it. Once you have money, you start to pursue power; there's no way around it. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

Mr. Leo pointed at little Priskin: "Why do you say he's afraid of you?"

Little Priskin, who had been left out in the cold for half a day, was startled.

“Didn’t you say?” Winters glanced at little Priskin: “Because I hold the sword.”

“On the surface, it’s because you hold the sword,” Mr. Leo said slowly. “In essence, it’s because you can take away his life, his property, his status at will. No reason or explanation is needed, just the sword.”

Mr. Leo's plump face showed no trace of a smile this time. He looked at little Priskin and asked, "Mr. Priskin, do you think so?"

Little Priskin didn't speak, but his expression said it all.

Winters defended himself: "I had no intention of doing that, nor any reason to do so."

“Whether one is willing is one thing, whether one is capable is another.” Mr. Leo paused for a moment and said sincerely, “Unless this ‘insecurity’ can be completely eliminated, he—and millions of others—will always be afraid of you, forever.”

After saying that, Mr. Leo shrugged and returned to his smiling demeanor: "However... what the one who wields the sword may desire is precisely 'fear.' Mad King Richard dared to default on his loan from the provincial bankers precisely because he wielded the sword. What ruler would willingly relinquish their power?"

Mr. Leo's last words were actually just casual remarks to comfort Winters, but he found that Winters had fallen into deep thought.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Winters laughed cheerfully. “It is indeed quite difficult.”

“I have some questions for little Mr. Priskin.” Leo blinked. “Is that alright?”

“Of course.” Winters leaned back in his chair, indicating he was leaving the conversation. “He’s here just in time.”

Little Priskin listened to the conversation between Blood Wolf and the round-faced, chubby middle-aged man with a dazed expression until he heard that someone had something to ask him.

Little Priskin perked up and sat up straight.

“According to Mayor Priestin, your company hasn’t invested much in head coupons,” Mr. Leo asked with interest. “So I’m curious, how did you manage to hoard so many head coupons?”

Young Priskin dared not conceal anything and revealed the entire process of [mortgaging-purchasing-remortgaging].

He originally wanted to hide the fact that he had tried to lower the price of the coupons, but remembering his grandfather's admonition—"Don't be too clever for your own good"—he told him in detail about his efforts to lower the price.

As he gave his instructions, Little Priskin kept glancing at Blood Wolf's expression. However, Blood Wolf remained deep in thought, seemingly still pondering their previous conversation, so Priskin didn't notice anything amiss.

Only after listening to the whole thing did Mr. Leo ask, "Using head coupons as collateral and then suppressing their price sounds contradictory."

“Price reduction was the first thing we did,” Little Priskin defended himself. “Later, we couldn’t reduce it anymore.”

“The price of headcount coupons is already quite high, don’t you plan to sell some?” Leo asked again.

“I have too many head coupons, they’re hard to sell,” Little Priskin honestly replied. “Besides, I feel like I’d be losing money if I sold them now.”

Do you think the price of membership vouchers will continue to rise?

"Hmm." "Why?"

"One person voucher is worth 100 acres of land. Even at the lowest possible price, the current price isn't high."

Mr. Leo asked with amusement, "Are you so certain that a single headcount voucher will eventually be exchanged for a hundred acres of land, and not just a wasted effort of weaving baskets and fetching water?"

Little Priskin took a deep breath and seized the opportunity to flatter Blood Wolf: "I'm sure we can get a hundred acres in return! I wholeheartedly believe that."

Unfortunately, Blood Wolf still didn't react.

Mr. Leo glanced at Winters and burst into laughter.

"In short, you hold the head bonds, which are nominally yours, but the actual owners are the investors who accepted your pledges?" Mr. Leo concluded.

“Not quite,” Little Priskin had to explain. “I originally wanted to repay with head certificates, but they wouldn’t agree. So in the end, I made an agreement with them to repay with hard currency.”

Leo raised an eyebrow, first puzzled, then burst into uncontrollable laughter again. Leo laughed so hard he was doubled over, so intensely that Winters was also somewhat bewildered.

“Mr. Priskin, I originally thought you were just brave.” Leo wiped away his tears and shook his head, saying, “It turns out you really are fearless of death.”

"Why?" Little Priskin asked, somewhat unconvinced.

“It’s very simple.” Leo cut to the chase: “The pool in Iron Peak County is too small to withstand your antics.”

“But the price of the head coupons will continue to rise,” Little Priskin shouted.

“That’s right.” Mr. Leo smiled. “But just one drop is enough to bankrupt you—and not just you, but your family too. Once you’ve lost everything, what’s the point of the head ticket price going up any higher?”

Little Priskin remained silent.

“In a small place like Iron Peak County, there aren’t many people who can participate in speculation. Once the market starts moving blindly, the situation can change faster than you can imagine.” Leo kindly warned young Priskin: “You can mortgage it not because you have credit, but because your grandfather has credit, so you will drag your grandfather down with you.”

Young Priskin remained silent because he was unconvinced. At his age, it was impossible for him to accept defeat. The more direct the criticism, the more defiant he became.

Leo's smile remained unchanged, but he refrained from offering any further advice. Instead, he ended the conversation with a few perfunctory compliments: "However, bold actions often yield amazing results; risks and rewards always go hand in hand."

Seeing little Priskin's irritating look, Winters also became a little impatient.

But while Leo could stand idly by, Winters could not remain aloof—even out of respect for old Priskin.

Winters kicked the table and asked, "You're not convinced?"

Little Priskin's stiff neck suddenly collapsed, he tucked his invisible tail between his legs, and whimpered, "No, no..."

“I know why you took the initiative to come see me.” Winters picked up his glass.

Little Priskin shrank his neck.

“Your grandfather is rich, and he’s afraid of me wielding a sword, just as you are. Your grandfather thinks you’re pulling a lion’s whiskers, so he ordered you to come and apologize.” Winters still preferred direct conversation: “But you certainly feel you haven’t done anything wrong, right?”

Young Priskin did not answer. But deep down, however, he truly felt he was innocent.

Winters said emphatically, "I also think you did nothing wrong!"

Little Priskin was taken aback, and even Mr. Leo's smile froze for a moment.

“It’s perfectly reasonable for you to spot a business opportunity and profit from it. You may have exploited loopholes, but ultimately it’s because I didn’t set the rules properly—except for the part about undercutting prices.” Winters’s gaze was piercing, making little Priskin unable to meet his eyes: “Maliciously undercutting prices to acquire heads is tantamount to drinking blood from a soldier’s wounds, which infuriates me. If you were my subordinate, I would have sent you to the gallows long ago.”

Winters continued, “But you’re not the only one trying to drive down prices, and I’ve never prohibited head trading. Ultimately, it’s my fault; I underestimated human greed. However, I don’t intend to solve this with a sword, otherwise there would be no need for ‘heads for coupons.’ As for whether your business strategy is reasonable, I don’t know and won’t judge.”

Little Priskin was stunned by Blood Wolf's words and just listened blankly.

“You, and old Mr. Priskin, need not fear me. Though I wield the sword, I have no intention of abusing it. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” Regardless of whether the other party understood, Winters was already preparing to see them off: “Go home. I have matters to discuss with Mr. Leo.”

Little Priskin bowed deeply, looking bewildered, and walked out as if his feet were treading on cotton.

Before he could even touch the doorknob, the door was pulled open, and Anna stood outside.

"Oh?" Anna's surprise lasted only a moment. She quickly composed herself and greeted him politely, "Good day, Mr. Priskin."

Hearing that someone had smashed a cup in the living room, Anna, who was busy in the kitchen, rushed back to her apartment immediately.

With a quick glance, Anna noticed that the cups in front of Winters and Mr. Leo were intact, while the plates in front of the empty seats contained shards of the cups.

Anna thought thankfully, "It was Mr. Priskin who broke the cup."

Young Priskin stood frozen in place, at a loss for words in the face of the renowned Wolf Queen: "Hello, good day, Madame Montaigne."

"It's getting late, please stay for dinner," Anna invited politely.

"Okay." Young Priskin, his mind still a blank, instinctively replied, "Okay."

Winters's temples bulged instantly, and he cleared his throat. "Mr. Priskin, are you staying for dinner? Huh?"

"No, no, no!" Little Priskin ran away, utterly dejected.

Anna was worried about young Priskin's condition, so she asked Charles to escort him home.

After taking care of everything, she returned to the living room and said to Winters with a hint of annoyance, "Why were you so harsh on Mr. Priskin?"

“Me? Strict?” Winters felt extremely wronged: “That kid just came here to annoy me.”

"Adults shouldn't argue with children."

“Adult? Child? I’m not that much older than him!” Winters felt even more aggrieved.

“But,” Anna said earnestly, “your responsibility is far greater than his.”

Winters's bristling mane was neatly trimmed, and his mood instantly improved.

"Okay." He happily admitted his mistake: "I won't hold it against him."

Anna pulled her shawl up, nodded to Mr. Leo, and left the living room.

Not long after Anna left, the door to the single officer's quarters opened again. Winters frowned at the sound of footsteps.

"What are you doing?!" Charles's angry shout rang out in the corridor: "Stop!"

The door was yanked open, and little Priskin squeezed half of his body in, while the other half remained outside—pulled along by Charles.

"Your Excellency!" Little Priskin cried out, "Are you saying that if I were your subordinate, you would have sent me to the gallows long ago?"

"What do you want to do?"

"Please let me be your subordinate."

……

Priskin the Elder's study.

"What did Blood Wolf say?" the old man asked his grandson with concern.

“Grandpa, I think… Your Excellency the Tribunal for the Plenipotentiary…” Little Priskin’s expression was complicated, his face flushed, “may be more…”

“Even more what?” Old Priskin frowned.

“I can’t explain it.” Little Priskin gave up trying to find the words, and gritted his teeth: “Anyway, I’m going to Maplestone with Mr. Leo.”

……

The dining room of a single officer's residence.

It was called a dinner party, but it was actually a family dinner.

The officers' quarters had no servants, so there was no process of serving dishes in turn. The seafood dishes were simply laid out on the six-person long table, just like a family's ordinary dinner.

The only people sitting at the table were Winters, Anna, and Leo.

Catherine should have been present as well, but Miss Navarre was too shrewd to show herself in such an potentially awkward situation.

"Anyway, I'll eat it in the kitchen too," Catherine said.

“Mr. Leo,” Winters launched into a direct attack, “I wish to propose to Ms. Navarre. Would she be so kind as to give us her blessing?”

[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
[It's late... but it should still count as a big chapter, right...]
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(End of this chapter)