[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 11: It’s Not Over Yet (3)
The words of Lord Vins continued in the Archbishop’s ear, who was clueless about what was going on.
[Yes! I’m truly impressed! When did you start preparing a cure for the Cadena Flu?]
"Hold on. Did you just say a cure for the Cadena Flu?"
[Yes, that's correct. The treatnt you sent us, Archbishop. I heard you secretly prepared it with the White Tower... or did I receive incorrect information?]
“…”
The Archbishop quickly pieced together the situation and licked his lips before asking.
“How was it? Did it seem effective?”
[Absolutely. Patients who received the injection recovered miraculously within a few hours. Isn’t this truly a blessing from the goddess? El Sia!]
“And were there any side effects?”
[Not so far. But, Archbishop… I don’t an to rush you, but could you give us a hint as to when we might receive the second shipnt?]
Lord Vins spoke cautiously, displaying extre deference.
[I asked the elder at the White Tower, but he said it was up to you to decide and left.]
“The second shipnt will be sent as soon as it’s ready. It shouldn’t take long.”
[Thank you, truly! El Sia!]
When the call ended, the Archbishop’s gaze landed directly on Oscar.
“Was that your work?”
“Yes, it seems it arrived safely.”
“This is a blatant violation of imperial law!”
Sensing the situation, Moira erupted in fury.
“Archbishop, you must consider this carefully. Imperial drug regulations prohibit the use of unapproved drugs, and violators face a minimum prison sentence of ten years, with the death penalty possible, depending on the outco. This act directly contravenes the Imperial Food Safety Act, Article 2, Clause 8. It’s a serious cri!”
“Hm.”
The Archbishop, who had been sowhat concerned about this, turned away slightly.
“Did you proceed without knowing this?”
“No, I was aware.”
“See? The White Tower deliberately committed an illegal act for unjust profit. Such a case deserves aggravated punishnt…”
“There will be no punishnt.”
Oscar cut her off firmly, eting the three pairs of eyes on him with a shrug.
“You all must be a bit out of touch with the law since you're only used to making potions.”
“Ridiculous! The Blue Tower's potion departnt is thoroughly versed in all legal interpretations concerning food safety...”
“Oh, I'm not talking about the food safety laws. I’m talking about warti laws.”
“Warti laws? What does warti law have to do with treatnt?”
Oscar chuckled softly.
There was no way this vast empire was always peaceful.
What looks serene now was built upon countless wars and layers of bloodshed.
Hence, the empire’s laws on warfare had grown extensive.
“Peace has reigned for the last twenty years, so they likely haven’t been reviewed in a while.”
Oscar swallowed an unknown bitterness and spoke in a calm voice.
“Twenty-two years ago, in the war with the demon tribes, the weapon that took the most imperial lives was not their swords or magic, but disease. The empire's talented mages quickly developed a cure and a vaccine, but the lengthy approval ti for food and drug regulations posed a huge problem. It was clear that these outdated laws couldn’t keep up with the urgency of war. In response, the Emperor added this provision to Article 42, Clause 8 of the warti laws: during warti, dicines for treating the injured are classified as special dical supplies, exempt from the Imperial Food Safety Act.”
“We’re not at war now, so what’s your point...?”
“There are three cases in which the Calderan Empire officially acknowledges a warti situation.”
First: when war breaks out with another race or nation.
Second: when rebel forces rise within the empire.
“And the third.”
Oscar’s voice turned as cold as ice.
“When a B-grade or higher disaster threatens the safety of imperial citizens.”
“…”
A deep, heavy silence fell over the room.
He looked at Moira, whose face had turned pale as she grasped what he was saying.
“Although it’s on the lowest level, the Cadena Flu is still classified as a B-grade natural disaster. Therefore, there’s no need to obtain approval from the Imperial Food and Drug Administration to treat it. Judging from your reaction, I assu you didn’t know.”
“That, that’s…”
Moira, flustered and barely able to hold herself together, was quickly assisted by Neil Brion.
“Archbishop, that changes nothing.”
“What do you an?”
“It ans that if the White Tower can do it, so can we. We’ll send all of our treatnts to Vins imdiately…”
“It seems you still don’t understand the situation.”
“Pardon?”
The Archbishop clicked his tongue in disappointnt.
“The mont the White Tower’s cure arrived in Vins, this contest was over.”
There are only seven Archbishops on the continent, figures of trendous religious and political authority.
Moreover, Baldwin, who’s eyeing the rank of cardinal, would not want even a trace of a blemish on his record.
“Lord Vins believes I collaborated with the White Tower to prepare the cure. How would it look if an Archbishop went back on his word?”
“…We’ll lower the price further.”
The Archbishop’s eyes flickered with annoyance at the suggestion.
“Are you implying that you can buy my honor with re money?”
“No, I didn’t an that at all…”
“I’m highly offended. Leave now; I don’t want to hear more.”
Faced with a clear dismissal, the two had no choice but to depart.
As Moira passed by Oscar, she muttered lowly.
“I’ll repay this debt one day.”
“…Sigh.”
Do these people get scripts from the academy or sothing?
How could it still sound the sa after twenty years?
“By the way, the patent for the Cadena Flu cure and vaccine has already been registered with the royal court.”
“What?”
Moira’s eyes widened in shock, realizing this had been her fallback plan.
“Therefore, if you wish to use your own treatnt, you’ll need to pay us the patent fee or destroy it all. The choice is yours.”
“Ugh!”
“Oh, though I believe Ms. Moira may have other pressing matters to attend to first.”
The Blue Tower isn’t lenient toward anyone who incurs astronomical losses on them.
She would likely end up assigned to a lesser post or expelled from the tower.
Moira clenched her fists and stord out.
Monts later, as Neil Brion passed by, Oscar comnted casually.
“That’s a nice cologne.”
The minty freshness was unmistakable, morable, like Gordon's had been.
Oscar glanced at him slyly.
“NewTech, wasn’t it? Let’s et again.”
“…I hope under better circumstances.”
“I hope so, too. For now.”
Once they left, Archbishop Baldwin burst into hearty laughter.
“Haha! Now we can finally get down to discussing the contract terms. Co, take a seat.”
As soon as he sat, the questions began.
“Now then, na your price for supplying the cure to Vins’s domain.”
“Hmm.”
“For reference, the Blue Tower and NewTech offered 2 million bels.”
The only reason he volunteered this information was to prevent them from naming an unreasonably high price.
“If those two quoted two million…”
Oscar extended two fingers in thought, then grinned as he spread out the rest.
“Five million bels should do.”
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
“…Ha.”
The bold proposition drew a scoff from the Archbishop.
He had thought even two million was high for treating the five thousand residents of Vins.
“To ask for more than double that amount...”
It was clear Oscar was exploiting the Archbishop's desperate situation.
As irritation began to rise, Oscar spoke up.
“You might think I’m taking advantage of you.”
“Are you saying that’s not the case?”
“Yes. I have three reasons for quoting five million bels.”
“Three reasons?”
The Archbishop’s curiosity was piqued, and he nodded slightly.
“Let’s hear them.”
“First, the quality of our cure. As you’ve already heard from Lord Vins, there’s no issue with the effectiveness of our treatnt. Comparing it to their unproven cures would be an insult, in my opinion.”
“Hmm. I acknowledge that. And what is the second reason?”
“Ti.”
The Archbishop nodded in agreent.
“That, too, I acknowledge. You’re saving a whole four months.”
“In my personal opinion, it’s impossible for them to complete a redy in just four months.”
“You’re quite confident. So, we have two reasons now.”
Excellent quality and fast delivery ti—both valid reasons for raising the price.
“Now, what’s the third reason?”
“Advertising costs.”
“...Advertising costs?”
Oscar smirked at the Archbishop, who blinked in confusion.
“When we swiftly contain the Cadena flu, people will be curious. They’ll ask, ‘How did the White Tower manage to produce a redy so quickly?’ And then I’ll answer that it’s all thanks to Archbishop Baldwin. That he, as if divinely inspired, instructed us to prepare the redy.”
“...!”
Baldwin the Archbishop’s eyes sparkled as he grasped the aning of Oscar’s words.
A bishop receiving a divine revelation?
It was an opportunity too tempting to resist for soone eyeing the position of cardinal.
A chance to make his na known across the entire continent without lifting a finger.
“Haha, unfortunately, I haven’t received such a revelation. But rumors tend to get exaggerated, don’t they?”
“Haha, that’s how rumors work, isn’t it?”
The Archbishop, clearly pleased with this scenario, smiled widely before asking mischievously,
“Are you really in your twenties? Talking to you feels like talking to a wily old fox of forty.”
Oscar’s face grew serious.
“Well, forty is a bit much... I can humbly admit to being thirty, though.”
“Cough, just a joke.”
What a funny fellow.
Why admit to thirty if it’s not true?
“Oscar Crucian... Wait, Oscar Crucian?”
The Archbishop clapped his hand on his knee as recognition dawned.
That na sounded familiar—it was the na of a once-renowned genius who had stirred the continent.
But for the past few years, he had only been infamous for squandering the White Tower’s funds.
‘Has he been restoring lost potion recipes all this ti? If that’s true, the potion market could be transford.’
The Archbishop naturally assud Oscar had spent these past years focusing on potion research.
After all, the redy for the Cadena flu couldn’t have been created overnight.
“But tell , why not count what you’re taking from ?”
“...What do you an?”
Oscar feigned innocence, but the Archbishop, fully aware, smirked knowingly.
“If the White Tower makes a fortune from this amazing redy, it’ll attract a horde of vultures. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you were positioning and the Church as shields against them?”
“...Well, depending on how you look at it, I suppose one could see it that way.”
What a cunning old man.
Oscar had thought he wouldn’t notice... but seeing his expression, the Archbishop burst into hearty laughter.
“Hahaha! It’s just another joke! You’re so mature I wanted to tease you a bit.”
“Your taste in humor is quite peculiar.”
“I hear that often.”
Chuckling, the Archbishop pulled a blank check from his robe and wrote a number on it.
“Here, take it.”
“Thank you... Huh?”
Oscar’s eyes widened at the number on the check.
“Archbishop, I think you miscalculated.”
“It’s you who miscalculated.”
The Archbishop shook his head firmly.
“You’re offering to advertise solely for my benefit across the continent. Do you think my dignity is so cheap that 5 million Bels would suffice?”
“Archbishop…”
Grateful, Oscar tightly gripped the check that had 10 million Bels written on it.
“I’ll show my gratitude by delivering the second batch to Vins in a week.”
“Haha, that would be much appreciated.”
He clasped the Archbishop’s hand firmly.
* * *
Back at the White Tower, Oscar returned like a triumphant general to see the deputy master, already joined by Maxim and Fidelina, who had rushed over upon hearing the news.
Holding the blank check without a word, Oscar handed it over, and Fidelina shrieked upon reading the amount.
“What? Is this… 1000? 10,000? 100,000? 1 million? 10 million Bels?”
With her mood imdiately brightened, she ssed up Oscar’s hair.
“Oh, my boy! I knew you could do it!”
“...Your audacity is almost astonishing.”
Maxim, shaking his head, caught Oscar’s awkward look and spoke up.
“Unlike her, I’ve believed in you from the start. You know that, right?”
“...”
Yeah, please help stop her.
Oscar brushed off Fidelina’s hand, awkwardly smiling as he fixed his hair.
“Anyway, the deal with Archbishop Baldwin went through successfully, so we need to prepare the second batch and send it to Vins in a week. After that, we’ll start selling in nearby territories, too.”
The deputy master stared at the check in silence.
This wasn’t just any number—visions of those he couldn’t feed, clothe, or support flashed through his mind.
With misty eyes, he managed to speak.
“To be honest, I’m surprised. I didn’t expect Oscar to pull it off this well.”
“It’s all thanks to your faith in , deputy master.”
A loud stamp of approval.
The deputy master’s gaze was filled with affection.
“The disciplinary action called for repaying three tis the embezzled 25,000 Bels, yet he’s brought back 400 tis that amount. Considering future sales to other territories, we could aim for hundreds or even thousands of tis more.”
He glanced at Fidelina.
“I’m withdrawing the disciplinary action against Oscar. Any objections?”
“None at all.”
Having heard the answer he wanted, the deputy master asked again.
“Oscar, do you need any additional support? A week is a pretty tight deadline.”
“Yes, I’ll need more mages. Just Fran and I won’t be able to et the deadline.”
“What’s the recruitnt criteria?”
“Preferably all skilled in dual casting, but realistically, as many level-four mages as we can find.”
Unlike with Fran, they didn’t have ti to teach everyone dual casting this ti.
With a week’s deadline, they needed to prepare the promised batch.
“All right, I’ll post a recruitnt notice in the tower. Fidelina?”
“Yes, deputy master?”
“Announce that we’re looking for level-four or higher mages for potion manufacturing, and that those who join will get daily wages and at at every al.”
Applicants flocked in droves.
[Translator - Clara]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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