While Romon and Nick were discussing this matter, several stewards at the headquarters of the Pilgrimage Trading Guild in Far-Sail Port were discussing it as well.
It was a moderately sized meeting hall. Though not large, it was kept exceptionally tidy. A long table stood in the middle, flanked by high-backed chairs. A simple map of the continent hung on the wall, marked only with the rough terrain of each territory. It looked simple and clear at a glance.
Several stewards sat together, discussing matters in low voices, while the guild's vice president sat in his seat with his eyes half-closed, resting his mind.
"...According to the news we've received, quite a few trading guilds have joined in cooperation with the Elves. Some of them have not even bothered with strategy—they have openly committed their entire guilds to working with the Elves. If war between the Elves and humans breaks out again, they will be the first ones to suffer, accused of aiding the enemy—could they really not have thought of that?" One steward could not help sighing.
"Yes, these trading guilds have weathered their share of storms. Why are they so unable to keep their heads in this matter?"
"It is not that they have failed to think of it. The profits before their eyes are simply too great. Enough profit can make people risk their necks, can it not?" The vice president, who had been resting with his eyes closed, abruptly opened them and spoke with a cold sneer.
He had a kindly appearance, with regular features and a faint smile usually lingering on his face. Yet at this moment, there was only faint mockery and disdain on it.
"Vice President, honestly, the Elves have truly gone all out this time. They have offered such excellent terms that