Episode 319 – 10% Is Just Right
Lochter’s twin swords, Belin and Reina.
Because they were forged by the Dwarf King Dorneth, we were able to approach the dwarves without resistance.
“Do you want to hear our story?”
“Yes, I do.”
Before talking with Italus, I wanted to hear what they had to say.
We sat around an empty anvil.
I listened closely to the dwarves’ stories—where they lived and what they did before being enslaved, how they were captured by slavers, what they experienced while being sold to the workshop, and what their lives were like now.
Simple, honest stories filled with emotion spilled from all directions.
Among them—
“Was his na Koristman?”
My eyes turned to the dwarf in the blacksmith’s cap who had introduced himself earlier.
Even by rough estimation, he looked the oldest among them.
As it turned out, he was also a master recognized by all the dwarves here, treated almost as a Grandmaster—a smith close to the rank of Great Artisan.
‘With a near-grandmaster artisan like him under their thumb, no wonder the Lenon Workshop could maintain its rank as Aintrier’s second most powerful trading house.’
I glanced at Antonio from the corner of my eye. He was listening with a fascinated expression, as if facing sothing utterly new.
He probably had never seen dwarves engage in such genuine conversation. I could understand his reaction.
The atmosphere felt like it was ready for a good drink and a long night.
But the dinner Italus had invited us to was approaching, so we had to part with the dwarves, though it was a sha.
They saw us off to the passage.
I smiled at Koristman.
“We’ll see each other again soon.”
“Will we get to et our king then?”
“I can’t guarantee when, but eventually, you’ll et the Dwarf King.”
“Then I’ll believe in our benefactor.”
The chanical elevator slowly rose, leaving behind the farewell.
In the quiet space, I recalled the conversation with the dwarves.
It had been a productive ti.
I had even gained useful information about other races who had been enslaved—elves and witches.
Thud!
We returned to the first floor, stepped out of the passage, and walked down a splendid corridor.
I found myself watching Antonio’s back as he walked ahead.
I wondered what emotions he felt after visiting the dwarves.
“Antonio, were you offended?”
“Huh? What do you an?”
“Just now, when I said it was ti to go ho. Depending on your position, I figured it might’ve upset you.”
“Was I supposed to be offended?”
“Well, you’re technically their master—for now.”
Antonio hesitated for a mont, then shook his head.
“Depending on the outco of the negotiation tonight, I might feel regret or relief. I think I’ll know clearly by tomorrow what I feel.”
A roundabout way of saying “I hope things go well in the negotiation.”
‘This guy’s sharp too.’
To Antonio, the dwarves were a valuable asset. And I’d all but declared, right in front of them, that I was going to take them away. No way he could feel pleased.
Yet, he didn’t show it—he controlled his emotions well.
If we were judging on potential alone, the future of the Lenon Workshop seed bright.
“But the flower nad Antonio will be cut before it can bloom.”
The sanctum of mages, once revered as the origin and center of the world—Demtor.
When Demtor fell, the Lenon Workshop, having lost its backers, was swallowed and ruined by Azonne.
‘The faction that joined hands with Azonne was Pri Root.’
Pri Root had a hand in Demtor’s downfall.
Specifically, the Spider Queen Azolett, and the Cleaner Special Captain Richard, who helped her.
‘I wonder if the story’s ntioned the fall of Demtor yet?’
With Kal the Butcher missing from the plot so far, it was hard to read how the narrative was unfolding.
My thoughts were cut short as a beautifully crafted iron door ca into view. I brushed them aside and stepped up to the door.
“Master, I’ve brought the guest for dinner.”
Raising his voice, Antonio slowly opened the heavy iron door.
From the crack ca the tantalizing aroma of food.
As expected from a formal al setting, the scent alone was appetizing.
I scanned the interior and chuckled.
“Even the decorations are enough to make soone lose their mind.”
Everything from the table and chairs to the decorative pieces, the windows, the terrace, even the dishware—all bore the careful touch of dwarves.
More than beautiful, the artistic atmosphere was overwhelming.
In a setting like this, the host would clearly have the upper hand in any negotiation.
The surroundings alone could make a guest feel pressured.
As if proving that point, Italus greeted with a face full of confidence.
“I prepared this for the honored guest. Please, have a seat.”
He guided to a chair before returning to his own seat.
Looking over the table, I let out a dry laugh.
Over a hundred different dishes, many I’d never seen before, were neatly arranged.
Every one of them was visually stunning.
Almost too pretty to eat.
It looked like he’d gone all out.
“This really is an incredible feast.”
“I’m not sure if it suits your tastes.”
“In terms of quantity? Pass.”
“...Quantity??”
Ever since reaching 5-star, I could control my appetite.
But originally, my hunger was on a whole different level from normal people.
Today, I loosened my belt for the first ti in a while.
I knew exactly what Italus was trying to do with this setting.
It was a power move—trying to suppress before negotiations began.
But that wasn’t going to work.
“By any chance, do you have plastic gloves?”
“Plastic gloves...? Do those exist here?”
“No matter. I can wash up afterward.”
I rubbed my hands together with a smile.
Ti to respond to Italus’s maneuver.
“Let’s eat.”
I focused entirely on the food.
Antonio blinked in shock, then quietly turned to observe his father.
Italus’s expression was... unusual.
The iron-willed rchant looked completely flustered.
Even his own son had never seen that expression before.
‘And the fact that I understand his expression—that’s the problem.’
When I looked back at the table, half the food was already gone.
In silence, the sound of cutlery clinking echoed.
Clatter, clatter—
Alex, the World Tree Union’s representative, was eating non-stop with both hands.
Sharp-eyed, intellectual, and deeply thoughtful—he was known for being a difficult opponent in negotiations.
Even coming into this banquet, people expected a tense atmosphere.
But now—
“Wow! This is incredible! The flavor’s unreal!”
He downed an entire bottle of wine in one shot and gave Italus a thumbs-up.
Forget formality and manners—he stuffed anything he could reach straight into his mouth.
Even a barbarian would be stunned by such gluttony.
He seed like a completely different person.
Watching silently, Antonio eventually shook his head and picked up his fork.
He’d t many people, but never soone he couldn’t figure out at all.
“I don’t get him.”
He could only trust in his father now.
His father was a truly exceptional rchant—he’d even won over the most stubborn of dwarves and had never failed in a major investnt.
Antonio cut a perfectly cooked steak and offered it to the young girl sitting beside him—his daughter, and the family's only granddaughter, Märchen.
Thanks to the Leaf of the World Tree, her condition had improved, though her mobility was still limited.
Even so, she insisted on attending this dinner—because she wanted to see the man nad Alex.
She seed to have developed a fascination with the “World Tree” after being treated with its Leaf.
“Märchen, would you like a bite?”
“...Huh? Oh, yes.”
Still staring blankly at Alex, Märchen nodded and took a bite of steak.
She chewed slowly, but her eyes never left Alex.
She seed fascinated by the way he ate.
Then—
“Hey there, adorable young lady. Could you pass the salt?”
“M-?”
Startled, Märchen hesitated.
“Is there another cute young lady here?”
Alex smiled and held out his hand.
It was covered in grease, but Märchen gave a small nod and handed him the salt shaker.
“Good girl. Here’s a reward.”
Grinning, Alex placed a World Tree Leaf on a water cup and handed it to Märchen.
Märchen took the cup with both hands and stared at the leaf inside.
Then, her eyes sparkled.
“Is this a Leaf of the World Tree?”
“You know it?”
“Yes!”
Hearing the exchange, Antonio flinched.
A Leaf of the World Tree?
He stared at Alex with wide eyes. He wanted to shout sothing, but with his daughter right there, he sealed his lips and smiled gently at her.
“A guest gave it to you. Don’t turn him down.”
Märchen nodded and took a sip from the cup.
Her cheeks turned rosy.
Her face was full of vitality.
She let out a soft sigh, then suddenly opened her eyes wide and asked excitedly:
“That’s amazing! Is the World Tree real?!”
“Of course it is.”
“I want to see it… so badly…”
“Then ask your grandfather.”
“…Huh?”
“He has enough influence to show you the World Tree anyti. All it takes is writing his na on a piece of paper.”
“Ah…?”
If Italus saw the smile on my face, he would’ve thought it was incredibly sly.
He stared silently at his granddaughter’s eager expression, then chuckled bitterly.
‘I walked right into it.’
This was the Lenon family’s private reception hall.
When people were brought here, they usually acted with great care.
From the furniture to the utensils, everything looked like art, triggering an instinctive reluctance to be careless.
Even the food was ant to create that psychological effect.
If you start cautious, that attitude often carries over into the negotiation.
That’s why Italus always used this room for serious discussions.
“I’m going to lose a lot in this negotiation…”
He let out a bitter laugh and glanced at the wrecked table.
Wine and food spilled everywhere. The table and even the floor were a complete ss.
There was no sign of caution.
No sense that the guest was trying to read the room.
He’d hoped to gauge intentions and buy ti before the real talk, but with this guest, it was pointless.
“Buurp.”
“All done?”
“Still a bit hungry. But that was a satisfying al.”
“I’m… glad to hear that.”
Italus shook his head and signaled to his son. Antonio nodded and led Märchen up the stairs.
Now it was just the two of us.
Italus rested his chin on one hand and sighed.
Then, he got straight to the point.
“What is it you want from ?”
“I already told you the terms. Though… I do have one additional request.”
“Do you now? Then allow to state mine first.”
Italus brushed aside the papers on the table. They were filled with contingency plans crafted with his bloodline—now completely useless.
“The Lenon Workshop wants the distribution rights to all goods produced by the World Tree Union going forward.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Then 50%.”
“50%?”
“Yes. If we get 50% of the distribution share, we’ll agree to all of the Union’s demands.”
“50%, huh? You’re quite greedy.”
“…What?”
I let out a short laugh.
Then, I raised one finger and said,
“10% is just right.”
At my response, Italus’s face contorted.
User Comments
0 comments from readers