The Beast Tide

City Guard Headquarters.

The guards who had been stationed there before had all been replaced by soldiers from the Shamsuddin Legion.

Compared with the soldiers on the city walls, these guards were much better equipped. Even the squad leaders were at least low-tier martial professionals.

A group of City Guard soldiers returned, carrying their spoils and laughing and joking. To avoid running into the legionnaires, they had even gone around to the back, but they hadn't expected to be stopped as soon as they entered.

"Pusfield..."

A young noble recognized the man blocking their way.

Pusfield folded his arms across his chest and glanced at them before saying expressionlessly, "I'm truly grateful to you all for going out of your way to leave the city and bring us these spoils..."

As he spoke, one of his companions had already reached out to grab them. The other man instinctively resisted.

"Wait, I..."

One of the companions beside him tried to intervene.

Pusfield's eyes widened, and a powerful aura burst forth. The young noble was instantly silenced.

Pusfield then grinned broadly. "You dare to resist, too? Get them..."

Several men immediately swarmed them. In no time, they had knocked the City Guard soldiers to the ground, then carried off the prey and strode away.

Watching their spoils being stolen, the men on the ground could only curse and groan.

Those men had really laid into them. They hadn't dealt any fatal blows, but it hurt—deep, piercing pain. It felt as though their muscles and bones had been crushed over and over. Even professionals wouldn't be able to get up for half an hour, while ordinary people would be laid up for a whole day.

As for who had robbed them, that went without saying.

Anyone with that kind of strength who showed up in a place like this had to be the legion commander's personal guards.

They were certainly too embarrassed to file a complaint, and they figured that even if they went to their superiors, they probably wouldn't get their things back.

Having their spoils stolen could only mean they weren't strong enough.

Besides, even the headquarters had been seized. What good would complaining do...

City Guard Hall.

A burly red-haired man sat in the seat of honor, smoking a cigar with his legs crossed high.

Hussein.

The Shamsuddin Legion's commander, a Genasi and a Fire Genasi Sorcerer.

His fiery red hair was his distinctive trademark.

"Commander, our scouts have sent back word that large numbers of beasts and aberrations have appeared to the southwest and are continuing to move toward the main city. They're expected to form a major beast tide when they're about a hundred miles away!"

Hussein said nothing in response to his subordinate's report. Blowing smoke rings, he picked up a purple, diamond-shaped vial and examined it closely.

"How were the casualties last night?"

Hussein asked.

The young officer froze for a moment, then quickly replied, "Seventon deployed 1,470 combat personnel. No one was killed. Total losses of weapons and supplies..."

"Stop. Don't mention the supplies we lost. Just multiply the amount by two... No, three, and file a claim with the City Guard. Tell me about the personnel."

"Uh?... Yes. Twenty-seven were seriously wounded, and 138 sustained minor injuries. The seriously wounded were treated by Clerics this morning and should be able to return to combat after three days' rest. The lightly wounded were treated this morning, and most of them should be able to return to combat this afternoon..."

"Hmph. They had the city walls for cover, yet they still got so many people hurt fighting a few aberrations. Looks like training's been lax lately. They must be itching for a beating!"

"Uh... Commander, they were injured because they ran outside to compete for battle merits..."

"They ran outside?" Hussein's eyes widened. He leaned right up to the officer, blowing cigar smoke straight into his face. "Are they all a bunch of pigs? They had the city walls for cover, and they still ran out to fight head-on? Don't they have any brains? All they know is how to fight over battle merits. Give the order: once they've recovered, they don't go back to the front. Send them straight to the logistics department to haul supplies. Damn it..."

The officer's mouth twitched. He waited until the commander had settled back into his seat before speaking. "Commander, part of the reason is that we've never trained for defensive battles, and we have no experience defending a city. Also, there's... well..."

"What else? Spit it out!"

"Also, as you often say, the best offense is defense. Our legion has too few archers. They watched the marksmen 'pick off'... 'claim heads,' and it frustrated them, so they charged out."

Hussein's eyelid twitched. Then he looked up and to the side, held the cigar in his right hand, and took a long drag. He exhaled, cleared his throat twice, and said, "They recovered so quickly this time. The City Guard must have good food!"

"Yes, Commander!" The young officer nodded in agreement. "The healing potions in the main city are good, too!"

"If they're good, then buy more to keep in reserve. The beast tide will use up a lot of supplies. These glass vials are nice. I heard you can drink from them, too. That's a good idea."

"Yes, Commander."

"Go on, go on. If you don't have enough money, ask Tolmanov. Don't bother me. Have him bill the City Guard. Damn it, we're helping them defend the city. Asking for a little pay isn't unreasonable."

After dismissing his subordinate, Hussein let out a quiet breath. He picked up the vial and rubbed his thumb over the mark on its surface.

The mark resembled a coin, and it bore the symbol of a crescent moon.

"Interesting little fellow. Looks like that old man has someone to carry on his legacy after all..."

The unrest caused by the beast tide arrived sooner than expected.

Seventon's central streets were packed with traffic. The snow couldn't even settle before being churned into slush. As refugees fled into Seventon, news gradually spread, but the first to react were the owners of the major merchant shops.

Prices kept rising like they'd been pumped full of water. Just as the major merchant houses began preparing to stockpile supplies, they discovered that most of the goods had already been booked. They were all military necessities, such as salt, iron, and leather.

The shopkeepers weren't the only ones dumbfounded. Borne's move had stunned all the merchant houses. Those who had mocked Borne and the Lehman Trading Company were now getting a taste of their own medicine...

Borne's astonishing business acumen and foresight had finally been revealed to the world.

Lehman hurried to find Borne. He was astonished by his employer's predictions, but he also hadn't expected other merchants to be so perceptive. Although Lehman had cornered most of the supplies, many merchant houses still had large stocks, and competition remained fierce.

However, the Lehman Trading Company, despite holding a huge quantity of supplies, had run into a major problem...

They had no way to establish contact with the Shamsuddin Legion's leadership. In fact, their merchant house wasn't the only one; everyone else had been turned away, too. Even Baider's attempt to use the Ioulaum name had failed.

The Shamsuddin guards didn't care about anyone's connections. They bluntly said that anyone who wanted to see the legion commander would have to bring the noble behind them in person.

The shop managers and representatives were left dumbfounded. They were supposed to be the ones who handled this sort of thing. If the actual owners had to show up, what use were they?

As it turned out, someone really did invite a noble lord to intervene. The next day, that merchant house immediately had a new chairman, while the previous chairman mysteriously disappeared.

At that point, the heads of the various merchant houses finally understood. Losing this deal was clearly preferable to being made to "disappear."

Besides, the war was about to begin. They refused to believe that the Shamsuddin Legion could really be self-sufficient and had no need for weapons or supplies. As a result, Seventon's prices changed every day, rising at a dizzying pace...

Lehman had thought it over for a long time, but in the end he still gritted his teeth and went to find Borne.

"Have all the contracts been signed?"

"They've all been signed. The funny thing is, half a month ago they were all smiles when they signed. It's only been a few days, and now people keep showing up one after another, crying poverty. Heh, I just shoved the contracts in their faces, and they had no choice but to slink away..."

Lehman's confidence now came from this batch of supplies. Even without getting into the military supply business, he could still make a huge profit from the current prices after deducting the losses from buying up the High Yarrow.

The more things turned out this way, the more he admired his employer's foresight. His employer was always telling him that he had an exceptional talent for business, but compared with Borne, his own cleverness was nothing.

Borne didn't notice Lehman's expression. He stared intently at the Alchemy Table and said, "Having a contract doesn't necessarily make it foolproof. This method will only work once. If we try it again next time, it may not be nearly as effective."

"But it's a good method. With a priest as a witness and a god as guarantor, could they really go back on their word?" Lehman asked, confused.

"The ones best at exploiting contracts are devils. Even devils make mistakes sometimes, let alone contracts written in human language..."

"???"

"Heh, you'll understand later. All right, which legion is currently stationed here?"

"The Shamsuddin Legion! One of Netheril's elite legions!"

Lehman replied solemnly.

"So it's them!"

Borne raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Seeing Borne's expression, Lehman secretly relaxed. It seemed his employer knew this "oddity" of a legion, which made it easier to explain. He then began to complain.

"The Shamsuddin Legion is nothing but a bunch of berserk Orcs. They won't listen to reason at all. Everyone who tries to visit gets turned away. The most outrageous thing is that those guards brazenly took bribes... and then did nothing! Someone even went to complain at the City Guard headquarters, and Shamsuddin's men beat him up and threw him out..."

Lehman smiled bitterly. He had thought that the Ioulaum House name would help him secure a share of the military supply business. He hadn't expected them not just to ignore him, but to treat everyone with the same contempt.

Borne was slightly taken aback when he heard this, then smiled and said, "Looks like we'll have to change the plan..."

"Yeah, I think we should..."

"Increase production of the new healing potion. We need enough for at least one legion. Hmm... wait, we may need enough for two."

"..." Lehman: "Huh???"

Borne didn't explain further. He walked over to the side and pulled down a curtain.

"???"

Lehman's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He realized that every time he visited his employer, he was in for another surprise—or shock!

A huge, transparent crystal tank was filled with densely packed magical plants. Pipes extended from above and connected to some unknown container. A vivid crimson liquid tinged with an enchanting purple hue slowly dripped through the pipes, where the magical plants below absorbed it.

"Th-this is?"

"Magical Plant Cultivator 1.0..."

Lehman: ...

Well, the name spoke for itself.

It was obvious what it did. As always, it was simple and straightforward.

But judging by the name, there would be a 2.0, 3.0, and so on. His employer was really determined to take on the Arcane Garden.

"Huh?"

Lehman seemed to notice something. He pressed up close to the glass and stared at it. "Is... is that Anvil Vine?"

Anvil Vine was known as the weed of magical plants. It could adapt to almost any environment, and it had a remarkable ability to spread and regrow. Even a single piece stuck into the soil would grow into a new plant.

But despite its tenacious vitality, Anvil Vine was constantly criticized by spellcasters and even treated as a weed. Not only did it greedily drain the life from the soil, killing other magical plants,

but most importantly, Anvil Vine was magically inert. It barely reacted with other magical medicines and could even lower elemental activity. It was practically a magical poison!

Lehman knew all too well. Whenever he took a job from the Arcane Garden, it was almost always to clear away Anvil Vine.

Despite its name, Anvil Vine was actually a type of magical creeper. Its vines were as hard as iron and difficult to cut. When clearing it, if you didn't pull it out by the roots, it would grow back before long. If you failed to clear all of its roots, it would soon grow back again. It was especially troublesome and one of the least popular jobs at the academy.

Lehman hadn't expected to see the stuff here, much less to find that his employer was using it to cultivate High Yarrow.

"Grafting. The Anvil Vine's extraordinary vitality can not only greatly improve the High Yarrow's survival rate, but its magical inertia also greatly reduces the chance of errors during mutation and speeds up the process..."

Borne rattled on and on, leaving Lehman utterly stunned.

Anvil Vine was considered a "magical poison" by the entire magical world, yet it could be used this way. Plenty of high-ranking mages were still struggling to figure out how to use it. He'd even heard that Lord Concinnio had studied it for a while, but hadn't come up with anything.

Yet his employer had figured it out. Lehman didn't know what "grafting" was, but at least it meant that Anvil Vine was useful after all—not a "weed."

Lehman slowly drew a breath. His gaze toward Borne had changed.

As an Arcanist, Borne's powerful mental strength let him sense the change in Lehman's gaze.

He knew that look. In his previous life, when he'd just started his graduate studies, his advisor had given him the very same look after demonstrating something to him.

Was that the look of someone impressed by his outstanding knowledge?

Well, it seemed he'd pulled it off...

Borne felt a little embarrassed, but then he accepted it and felt proud. This world had a powerful magical civilization, but the knowledge and technology from Earth weren't useless. They were still practical if you looked at them from a different angle!

Borne then took out a batch of nearly finished High Yarrow and handed it to Lehman. "You handle the key steps in production yourself. Delegate all the others. We're not keeping all those people around just to feed them. Don't worry about the recipe leaking. As long as we control the mutation technique, nobody else can make much of it even if they get the recipe!"

"Yes, boss."

"Also, transfer all the contracts. As for who gets them, have Baird talk to the old steward. He'll take care of it."

"Understood, boss."

In the past, Lehman would surely have asked questions. Prices were still rising, and they hadn't even peaked. Selling this batch of supplies now would mean making a lot less.

But now, Lehman had no other thoughts. His employer must have had a reason for doing this.

After returning to the merchant house, Lehman followed Borne's instructions and quickly organized a team to produce large quantities of the new healing potion.

When a stack of contracts was delivered to the old steward, even he, usually so composed, couldn't hide his surprise.

The old steward had known all about Borne setting up an independent merchant house through his agents and stirring up a craze for High Yarrow. He had even used "preorders" to tie up a huge amount of supplies with little money, leaving many people amazed. One particularly brilliant move had been getting a temple priest to witness the contracts. Even the count had praised it, calling it the finishing touch.

The deadline for transferring those supplies was only a few days away. At current prices, they'd rise for at least another ten days or half a month. No one would doubt that the Lehman Trading Company had enough money to pay.

Those contracts were money. They were gold coins!

If Borne wanted, he wouldn't even need to bring any money on the day of the transaction. He could sell the contracts at the market price that day, and plenty of people would rush to take them off his hands—even at a higher price.

The value of this stack of contracts made even the old steward uneasy. Even by the standards of the Ioulaum House's current resources, this was no small sum. He couldn't help thinking that the young master really was the old lord's grandson. He'd inherited not only his outstanding magical talent, but his talent for business as well.

That very night, these "invaluable" contracts were delivered to the count's desk.

The count looked at them and then cursed, "That little brat. Now he's giving me headaches..."

He cursed, but the curve of his lips still betrayed his delight.

A few days later, people from the Shamsuddin Legion found Lehman and announced that the Lehman Trading Company's new healing potion would be the designated medicine for the upcoming battle.

The sudden military order gave the entire merchant house a shot in the arm. Military contracts didn't just mean recognition—they meant enormous profits, too.

How much could they earn by selling potions one bottle at a time through pharmacies? Especially with the city closed for the winter, they weren't even in a slow season anymore; hardly anything was selling. Now, with the legion's order, the Lehman Trading Company was on its way to becoming a major player!

Compared with the excited crowd, Lehman was much more levelheaded. Still, his trembling hands betrayed his inner turmoil, and his admiration for his employer reached a new height.

After respectfully seeing off the legion's representative, Lehman waved his hand and shouted, "Get production started!"

The first batch alone required 10,000 doses. The legion's standard strength was 4,200 men, and each man needed two doses at first. Once the fighting began, the potions would be consumed at an even greater rate.

This was Lehman's first time dealing with a military contract. If Borne hadn't told him to start production a few days earlier, he probably wouldn't have been able to make the first delivery on time.

Then Uncle Baird brought a group of people over to help, and Lehman finally breathed a sigh of relief.