NOVPUBAmelia frowned as she listened to Conrad, the head of the Actium trading company.
"They requested more food supplies from Fenris again?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"Is the situation in Fenris and Feridium really that bad?"
"Unlikely. They’re already receiving aid from several northern lords, not to mention support from the pro-royalist faction. My guess would be that they’re simply stockpiling in preparation for the influx of settlers."
"How much support did the pro-royalists provide?"
"It was a last-minute decision, so we don’t have precise numbers... but with Marquis Branford involved, it should be enough to sustain them through the year."
Conrad regularly reported any noteworthy developments in his dealings with Fenris to Amelia, and this was no exception.
At first, he hadn’t thought much of the food sales. But as he continued monitoring the situation, he began to feel that something was off.
Despite the considerable support from the pro-royalist faction, Fenris was still purchasing food at an almost frantic pace. With the demand from Fenris driving up northern food prices, Conrad felt compelled to report it.
Amelia lowered her gaze, deep in thought.
‘What’s he planning this time?’
The harvest season was approaching. Even in the harsh northern climate, food prices tend to drop right after the harvest.
Yet, despite having sufficient stores, Ghislain continued to buy food at prices that were driving up the market. This piqued her interest.
"And what’s the behavior of the other trading companies?" she asked.
"They’re eagerly selling their stock. They know the prices will fall soon, so they’re looking to make as much profit as they can before that happens."
Whenever traders from other regions come to sell food, they always stop in the North first, where they can command higher prices even after deducting transport costs.
With prices rising higher than usual, it was only natural for traders to want to cash in on the opportunity.
Amelia paused for a moment, then asked another question.
"And how’s the weather? What are the forecasts for this year’s crops?"
"It's been a bit drier than last year, but nothing too alarming. We’ve had similar conditions before."
"Hmm...."
The North often faced poor harvests, but estates like Raypold and Desmond rarely struggled.
Even during lean years, they had enough to sustain their people, though they might not have surplus to sell.
Conrad's confident response reflected this reality.
But despite his reassurance, Amelia was deep in thought. Eventually, she raised her head, her tone resolute.
"Stop all food sales. Not just to Fenris—halt sales everywhere. For now, store everything discreetly. Also, quietly purchase as much as possible from incoming trading companies."
Conrad was momentarily taken aback by her sudden order.
"With the harvest season starting soon, prices will drop quickly. Selling now would be profitable. We can store our reserves, but purchasing from other companies will lead to significant losses."
"Do as I say."
"...May I ask why?"
"When did you start questioning my orders?"
"...My apologies. I’ll carry it out immediately."
Conrad's face stiffened. Amelia clicked her tongue as she saw his expression; she valued him enough to provide a brief explanation.
"I need to confirm something."
"Confirm... what, exactly?"
"Whether his success so far has been mere luck or true skill. I'll bear the cost, so proceed as instructed."
"...Understood."
Conrad knew Amelia rarely reversed a decision once made. He understood that pushing further would cross a line, even for a trusted subordinate, and might cost him his life.
Though he had no choice but to follow the command, the thought of the potential loss made him curse inwardly.
Even after Conrad left with a troubled heart, Amelia continued mulling things over.
‘Ghislain... Let’s see what game you’re playing this time.’
---
Claude doubled over in laughter when he heard Ghislain’s order to prepare supplies for three thousand soldiers.
"My lord! Even with the knights, our total force is only five hundred! Three thousand? Haha! Wendy, looks like you forgot to teach the lord basic math! Ow!"
Belinda smacked Claude, stopping his laughter. Rubbing his now-aching cheek, he asked again.
"Seriously, three thousand?"
"Yes."
"But we don’t have that many soldiers."
"I already told you—I’ll handle it."
"And where will you find them? Even if Feridium had the numbers, they can’t spare any due to the northern border."
"Oh, don’t worry. Plenty of places will be eager to lend us troops soon."
"Ugh... there he goes again."
No lord would lend troops without a solid relationship or adequate compensation. Even the pro-royalists, who had ceded land and people, had refrained from sending soldiers.
Yet Ghislain spoke so confidently about securing troops that it was incomprehensible.
Feeling weary from pressing for details, Claude clarified.
"Weren’t we planning a defensive stand? Did I imagine that?"
"I never said that."
"During the hot air balloon preparation!"
Claude had raised his voice, only to realize Ghislain had never actually made that promise—it was just something he’d assumed.
"...Yes, I was mistaken. So when do you plan to bring in these troops?"
"Very soon. Almost everything’s in place. Just a little longer."
Claude sighed.
It seemed that the "right time" Ghislain had been talking about since their return to the estate was drawing near.
He would be keeping a close eye to see if this supposedly perfect timing was worth all the buildup. If it was anything less than extraordinary, he was prepared to mock Ghislain thoroughly.
‘Still, if he really does manage to bring in three thousand troops....’
Even with the ragtag force they’d assembled, they had around four hundred knights ready to unleash their power.
If they could add three thousand troops to that, their odds would greatly improve.
‘Of course, if Count Cabaldi decided to dig in and fortify his numbers, things might be different....’
Claude shook his head, dismissing his scattered thoughts. Nothing was certain yet.
"Understood. I’ll make preparations for the three thousand as requested. With our stockpiles, food shouldn’t be an issue."
"Good. The time is nearly upon us, so ensure no one neglects their duties."
The vassals exchanged worried glances, bowing slightly. From Ghislain's tone, it sounded like their departure was imminent.
Until now, Ghislain had them prepare various things and mentioned borrowing troops, but that was the extent of the details.
With so little explained, they couldn’t help but feel anxious and skeptical.
But what choice did they have? They could only follow orders. Only someone like Claude had the audacity to make jokes in Ghislain’s presence.
Seeing their unease, Ghislain smirked.
"Soon enough, you’ll understand."
As Ghislain expected, the people of Fenris began to sense something unusual with each passing day.
"What’s going on? Why is it so hot lately?"
"It’s been years since it’s been this severe!"
"Isn’t this setting us up for a bad drought?"
Farmers were particularly sensitive to weather, as it directly affected their crop yields.
As the air grew hotter and drier with each day, the people grew increasingly worried.
They had only recently escaped constant hunger, so a drought was the worst possible disaster, bringing back nightmarish memories.
Concern etched on every face, they patrolled the farmlands daily.
But that concern didn’t last long.
"Phew, it was just needless worrying. It’s just a bit warmer than usual, that’s all. Maybe I’m just feeling weak."
"Look at the wheat—healthy and strong! We’ll have another great harvest soon."
Thanks to the monstrous wheat Ghislain had cultivated, the crops continued to flourish, no matter how hot or dry it got.
In fact, they looked ready for harvest even now.
And with the recent overhaul of the irrigation system, watering them posed no issue.
Unlike Fenris Estate, however, chaos was breaking out in other territories.
Lowell, responsible for gathering intelligence, reported daily on the situation in surrounding territories.
"The weather is behaving strangely. A severe drought seems imminent. The lords of each region are deeply concerned."
Initially, Lowell’s reports merely hinted at a potential issue, but with the wheat growing strong, the vassals in Fenris didn’t feel the effects.
With water reserves filled to the brim thanks to the river-fed reservoirs, there seemed little cause for concern.
Many dismissed Lowell’s worries as overblown, assuming he was simply overreacting to the warm weather.
But his reports grew more urgent with each passing day.
"The river levels are dropping fast! Crops are showing signs of distress!"
"Merchants are scrambling to secure food supplies! There’s a shortage of food!"
"Food prices have skyrocketed!"
The shocking escalation in Lowell's reports left the vassals speechless, their eyes on Ghislain.
While other territories were struggling with food shortages, Fenris Estate was bursting with stock, to the point where they had expanded storage to hold the surplus.
If this was indeed a drought, it made sense. Fenris had already bought up all the northern food at premium prices, leaving little for other territories.
The vassals, secluded within Fenris, struggled to believe Lowell’s words.
Only days earlier, they’d been cursing Ghislain for amassing food they couldn’t even finish before it spoiled. Now, suddenly, food was scarce across the land?
‘But we’re fine here, right? Is he lying? Did the lord tell him to say this?’
‘And to think even subpar crops are fetching sky-high prices... Could
there truly be a drought?’
The vassals, initially doubtful, were convinced by Lowell's next report.
"The famine markers have surfaced across the kingdom! The drought is real, and the situation is dire!"
If the famine markers—the stones planted in rivers to indicate drought—were visible, it meant the rivers were drying up significantly.
This level of drought was a rare disaster, occurring once in decades, even in the harsh North.
But it wasn’t only the North; other regions were also facing drought conditions.
"The kingdom is affected on a wide scale... abnormal weather patterns are disrupting the harvest. It’s affecting not just Ruthenia but also nearby territories in neighboring kingdoms. This is... the worst drought."
This couldn’t be brushed off as a simple lean year. A drought affecting the entire kingdom was a rare occurrence.
The vassals were overwhelmed.
While Fenris had an abundance of food and water, the rest of the kingdom was reeling from the drought.
It now seemed that all of Ghislain’s relentless preparations had been in anticipation of this catastrophe. n𝚘𝚟𝚙𝚞𝚋.𝚌o𝚖
Claude, hands trembling in astonishment and fear, finally asked:
"My lord, what... what is this? Did you actually predict the drought?"
All eyes were on Ghislain, nodding in agreement with Claude.
Until now, they’d chalked Ghislain’s success up to luck or good information.
But predicting the weather... that was an entirely different matter.
Foreseeing the future was a skill that only existed in legends.
While they gaped in shock, Ghislain propped his chin on his hand, closing his eyes with a satisfied smile.
What should he say? That he could see the future?
He couldn’t actually say it, but imagining their reactions was amusing.
As Ghislain merely smiled, Claude pressed him for an answer.
"Come on, my lord, stop laughing! How did you know there would be a drought?"
After a long pause, Ghislain answered in a relaxed tone.
"Because it’s hot."
"...Pardon?"
"When the weather’s this hot, a drought usually follows. It’s been heating up for a while now, hasn’t it?"
"You’re telling me you prepared all this just because it felt a bit warm? Does that even make sense?"
"Well, I don’t like the heat."
"..."
The vassals fell silent at Ghislain’s excuse.
‘So he’s saying he made these insane preparations simply because it felt a bit warm? And it happened to be right?’
It was a paranoid mindset, but at least it was easier to believe than the notion of foreseeing the future.
Of course, if he had been wrong, Fenris would’ve suffered massive losses with all the spoiled food. They still felt a little miffed about that.
Enjoying the silence, Ghislain turned to Lowell.
"And how’s Feridium holding up?"
"Ah... their situation is a bit different."
"Explain."
Lowell checked his notes, answering with a bemused expression.
"After receiving reports on the territory’s condition, Baron Homern, Feridium’s steward, apparently said..."
"Said what?"
"Ahem... ‘Ah, we lost the harvest again this year. But that’s normal for us, isn’t it? We have plenty of food for now, so we’ll be fine. When it runs out, we’ll just ask the grand duke for more.’"
"...Right. And their water supply?"
"Although their reservoirs have declined, thanks to the rivers flowing from the Beast Forest and the reservoirs we provided, they should manage. They’re better off than most regions."
"Good, no major concerns there."
Feridium, having always struggled, would likely weather this drought with a casual ‘just another bad year’ attitude.
If the drought persisted, they’d struggle with water shortages, but they’d manage to scrape by.
Honestly, Ghislain would have liked to build even more reservoirs and canals, but his authority over his father’s estate was limited.
Satisfied that Feridium would endure, Ghislain moved on.
"And the other territories?"
"It’s bad. Raypold and Desmond might harvest less than half of what they normally do. They likely have reserves to tide them over, but... it’s anticipated that many will starve in other areas."
"Hm, that’s unfortunate."
"Everyone’s scrambling to secure food. Right now, we could sell our stock at ten times the usual price."
Hearing Lowell’s report, the vassals’ eyes gleamed.
In the North, where food production was low, surviving this drought seemed impossible.
Fenris, on the other hand, had vast amounts of food stored, and soon, the fields planted with the enhanced wheat would yield even more.
If they played their cards right, Fenris might become the wealthiest estate in the kingdom.
But Ghislain shook his head, ignoring the hopeful glances of his vassals.
"I have no plans to sell right now."
Claude suddenly recalled Ghislain’s frequent mention of the “right time.”
"My lord... could this timing you spoke of mean...?"
With crops withering from drought, even Count Cabaldi’s soldiers would likely be struggling for food.
Hungry soldiers would lose morale, making them easy to defeat.
Ghislain smirked and replied.
"Yes. The time has finally come."
