"Stay sharp, all of you! We're building mine tunnels that need to last for decades. If you cut corners, don't blame me for coming down hard on you!"
With the comprehensive survey of the mining area complete, Valentin immediately began directing the craftsmen to reinforce the tunnels.
Black birch was cut to standard dimensions, and the workers carried the heavy beams into the mine.
Support posts were firmly secured throughout the mine to ensure the stability of the entire tunnel network.
The carpenters reinforced the joints with thick wooden wedges and applied resin at the connections to keep the supports stable for years to come.
Valentin lightly tapped every black birch support with his mining hammer, personally checking its strength.
Meanwhile, the first group of miners, all slaves, stood ready.
They had equipped themselves with basic protective gear and were awaiting instructions.
Valentin nodded. "Start with the most stable section. Mine a small area first so we can assess the demon marrow."
At his command, the miners carefully swung their pickaxes against the rock walls, prying loose chunks of ore.
With every strike, the purple veins gave off a faint glow, as though the magic slumbering deep within the earth had awakened.
This first batch of ore was then delivered to Silco, the Red Tide Fief's only Alchemy Apprentice.
"Test its purity," Louis instructed briefly.
Silco nodded and dropped a small piece of demon marrow ore into a testing solution.
The liquid gave off a faint purple glow, and fluctuations of magical energy soon swirled through the air.
The solution rapidly deepened to a dark purple-the sign of high-purity demon marrow!
"My lord, the ore's purity is even higher than expected!" Silco could barely contain his excitement.
The corners of Louis's mouth lifted slightly, and a weight finally lifted from his heart.
Night lay heavy outside, and candlelight flickered in the study.
Louis sat behind his desk, his gaze resting on Bradley across from him.
"I want both mining and processing to remain in the Red Tide Fief, with sales handled by the Calvin Family," he said, getting straight to the point.
Bradley paused briefly, then gave a knowing smile. "I understand."
Louis had his own calculations behind this arrangement.
He needed the family's support now and could not show signs of independence too soon. He had to offer them enough benefits to keep them willing to invest.
Only by satisfying the family's interests could he secure more resources and protection, allowing him to establish a firm foothold in the wilderness of the Northern Frontier.
Besides, his control over sales channels fell far short of the Calvin Family's.
The Calvin Family's trade routes stretched across the empire and even reached other countries.
Building a sales network of comparable scale-or even an inferior one-would be virtually impossible for him in the short term.
Given that, rather than waste his energy on something outside his expertise, he would be better off stabilizing his position and earning money first.
But the processing technology had to remain in his hands.
If circumstances changed in the future-if Duke Calvin died, for instance, or turmoil arose within the family-he might lose access to that sales network.
Yet as long as the Red Tide Fief retained a firm grip on demon marrow refining and processing techniques, even being shut out of the market would not be the end.
He could still rebuild his market rather than leave himself at others' mercy.
Bradley glanced at him, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.
Of course he understood Louis's ulterior motives, but he did not point them out.
"I will draft a letter conveying your wishes to Duke Calvin," Bradley said, his tone as respectful as ever.
The duke would make the final decision. Bradley only needed to fulfill his own role, without interfering too much.
Louis then opened a heavy wooden chest, revealing a mass of gold coins.
There were roughly fifteen hundred of them.
The resources provided by the Calvin Family this time had included three thousand gold coins, making Louis wealthy overnight.
But no matter how many gold coins he had, they were merely lifeless objects unless he could exchange them for tangible resources to build his strength.
And the resource the Red Tide Fief needed most now was people.
Louis closed the chest and turned to Bradley, saying solemnly, "I want to exchange these gold coins for slaves."
A hint of approval flashed in Bradley's eyes. "It seems you already have a clear plan."
Louis nodded. "Based on our current food production and reserves, fifteen hundred people is the most I can support."
He did not intend to overreach. Too many slaves would become a burden and undermine the Red Tide Fief's stability instead.
"Leave it to me," Bradley said.
For the Calvin Family's old steward, this was hardly a difficult task.
Bradley merely wrote a letter.
Just a few days later, slave traders from a thousand miles away went to the trouble of traveling to the Red Tide Fief, personally delivering a carefully selected batch of slaves.
Their attitude was exceedingly respectful, and they were cautious even when discussing prices, afraid of offending Bradley.
These slaves were clearly far better than the motley batch Louis had personally purchased at the black market last time.
Strong laborers made up more than half of them. Their muscles were solid, and although their skin bore the marks of exposure and hardship, they seemed in reasonably good spirits.
There was also a group of female slaves of marriageable age, who would play a crucial role in the Red Tide Fief's future population growth.
But what surprised Louis most was the price.
After purchasing fifteen hundred slaves, he still had a full seven hundred gold coins left!
"Quite a bit cheaper than I expected," Louis remarked as he looked over the groups of high-quality slaves.
Bradley smiled faintly. "Market prices aren't fixed. They depend on who the buyer is."
The implication was that anyone else arriving with fifteen hundred gold coins would have acquired slaves nowhere near these in either quality or quantity.
Yet Bradley had merely written a letter, and the slave traders had traveled a thousand miles to personally deliver their finest stock to his doorstep.
They were utterly deferential, even lowering their prices of their own accord, all to preserve their long-term relationship with the Calvin Family.
Was this the power of the Calvin Family's old steward?
Truly terrifying.
This was not merely a matter of negotiating skill, but a kind of "rule" rooted in the very foundations of society.
Louis silently counted himself fortunate to be a member of the Calvin Family as well.
Of course, only by proving his strength within the family could he earn the right to truly wield this powerful weapon.
Two months earlier, he probably would not even have had the chance to touch such power.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to Louis.
How wonderful would it be if, one day, I could fully command this influence and put the entire Calvin Family's power at my disposal?
Louis suppressed that momentary surge of ambition and looked at Bradley. "Thank you for your efforts this time."
Bradley inclined his head slightly, his expression as calm and composed as ever. "Serving you is my duty."
Before you continue