Free Web NovelChapter 371: Chapter 80: The Half-Plane Is About to Open
Taymer Palace.
The afternoon light filtered lazily through the tall, floor-to-ceiling windows of the drawing room, casting warm, golden patches across the dark oak floor and the heavy brocade rug.
Count Laura sat across from Murphy in a large armchair, his posture relaxed yet maintaining a proper decorum.
Although his daughter, Alina, had married into the Monte Clan and become Kaiden’s wife, making them in-laws and collaborators, Count Laura’s gaze and demeanor showed no less respect for the Legend of the Northern Territory sitting before him in a wheelchair.
"...The new network of waterways in the Southern Territory is indeed far more convenient than we first anticipated." Count Laura lifted the delicate porcelain cup before him and took a sip of the fragrant, full-bodied black tea, continuing the previous topic in a calm voice. "Not only has it reduced the time it takes to transport ore from the mines to the main smelting workshops in the Northern Territory by nearly forty percent, but the standardized warehouses and permanent guard posts established along the routes by the Royal Family and several major merchant guilds have also significantly lowered the risk of loss and banditry."
He gently set the cup down, and the porcelain made a pleasant, soft clink against the small sandalwood table.
"This infrastructure project pushed by the Royal Family, setting aside all other considerations, has been a genuine boon for commerce. The few shallow, rich mines we’re operating together have managed to catch this favorable wind."
Murphy listened quietly. Only after Count Laura had finished speaking did he give a slight nod. "Rising with the tide and making good use of one’s advantages is the duty of any operator. Your ability to shrewdly seize the opportunity and quickly integrate the transport and warehousing chains shows a rare degree of foresight and decisiveness."
Receiving Murphy’s personal approval, a genuine smile touched Count Laura’s lips, smoothing the fine lines around his eyes.
He waved his hand humbly. "Your Grace overpraises me. Ultimately, it’s the golden reputation of ’Northern Steel’ that rings so loud. What the market recognizes has always been the quality and credibility forged by the Monte Clan. We are merely taking advantage of our location to provide passable raw materials. The true value is what you imbue them with in the forges of the Northern Territory."
"However," Count Laura’s tone shifted, and a heavy look settled on his brow, "in recent correspondence with a few well-informed colleagues who reside in the Royal Capital, aside from discussing the mining business, everyone has invariably mentioned one place—the Albion Islands."
Murphy raised his eyes, his calm gaze falling on Count Laura’s face, silently prompting him to continue.
"The momentum of their development over there," Count Laura chose his words carefully, "is truly astounding. One might even say it has reached a point that is vaguely unsettling."
"The size of their trade fleet has practically doubled annually for the past five years. They haven’t just gradually monopolized many of the traditional shipping routes in the Western Isles region; in the last two years, their reach has extended aggressively toward several major ports in the Phlanis Kingdom, and even as far as the resource-rich Jade Coast to the south."
"The crucial point is that they aren’t just a disorganized band. With the Golden Coast Duke at their core, they’ve united over a dozen of the most powerful noble Lords and large merchant guilds on the islands to form an alliance called the ’Islands United Trade Association.’ This alliance is extremely rigid in its internal structure."
Count Laura’s tone grew graver. "Internally, they’ve implemented a set of highly unified, almost draconian rules. Everything from production standards and quality control for specific goods to uniform external pricing, shipping coordination, and even payment methods is strictly controlled by a council of core members. Dissenters are either pushed out or absorbed, but there is absolutely no possibility of growing independently outside their system."
"Externally, they not only aggressively seize market share using the low costs and stable supply afforded by the alliance’s scale, but more troublingly... rumor has it they have deep ties with certain powers of complex backgrounds who operate in a gray area. During negotiations for key shipping routes or when competing for exclusive port operation rights, their rivals often encounter ’resistance’ that goes beyond the scope of business. Some local merchant guilds or minor Lords who were initially defiant would suddenly change their minds, or... suffer some ’accidents’ that are best not investigated too closely."
He glanced up quickly at Murphy’s expression, but the man remained as still as a deep pool, his face betraying no reaction.
Count Laura added, "Of course, most of this remains shadowy rumor, lacking concrete evidence. Some of the major figures in the Royal Capital also seem to be taking a... wait-and-see, or even tacitly approving, stance toward this new power. But there’s no smoke without fire, Your Grace. Their rise has been too fast, their methods too aggressive and uniform, and it’s already putting immense pressure on many of the old, established trading houses and traditional territories."
Hearing this, Murphy was silent for a moment before he finally spoke, his voice betraying no emotion.
"Tides ebb and flow; the sea of commerce has always been this way. When a new leviathan surfaces, it will inevitably stir the existing currents and may even capsize a few ships. The story of the Albion Islands is merely another familiar surge in this Continent’s cycle of wealth and power."
"Only this time, the wave looks to be higher and faster than before. Tell our friends to secure their ships and watch their cargo. The worst thing to do before a storm is to fall asleep."
A chill ran through Count Laura’s heart, and he immediately bowed his head. "Yes, Your Grace. I will convey your warning exactly as you’ve said."
Murphy gave a slight nod. "Thank you for your trouble."
Count Laura knew the conversation had reached its natural end and that it would be improper to say more.
He glanced at the sky outside the window, then rose at the opportune moment, a smile returning to his face. "It’s getting late, so I won’t disturb Your Grace’s rest any longer. I will have my Steward compile the detailed ledgers for the Southern Border Ore Vein and the new quarter’s shipping arrangements and send the documents for your review as soon as possible."
After that, Count Laura bowed respectfully and took his leave, exiting the drawing room.
The door closed softly, and tranquility returned to the room.
Murphy sat alone in his wheelchair, his gaze fixed on the shimmering surface of Mirror Lake outside the window.
’Just as I told Eleanor before, as long as I am a Legend and the Lord of the Monte Territory, the tides of the era and the undercurrents of the various power plays will reach my position in one way or another.’
’The shadow of the Albion Islands is but one of countless undercurrents.’
CREAK!
The extremely faint sound of a door being pushed open came from behind him, unaccompanied by the usual announcement from an Attendant.
Murphy did not turn around.
A floral fragrance, carried on a gentle breeze, wafted in and dispelled the lingering scent of tea in the room.
The hem of a deep purple skirt, like the encroaching night, swept over the edge of the rug and silently appeared in his peripheral vision.
Margaret stood quietly beside Murphy’s wheelchair, joining him in gazing out at the vast lake scenery.
Her thick, dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, a few strands stirred by the breeze seeping through a crack in the window.
"Master," she said suddenly, her voice cool and clear, "what do you make of the news Laura brought?"
Murphy’s gaze remained on the lake. "The tides have their own rhythm. The rise and fall of a leviathan is not the work of a single day."
"Rhythm?" Margaret chuckled softly. "If the Golden Coast Duke didn’t have the backing of Wizard factions, could a mere group of island nobles and merchants have consolidated such a rigid alliance in just ten short years? Could they have swept away so many unexpected obstacles during their expansion?"
Murphy said coolly, "You didn’t come all this way just to repeat things I already know, did you?"
"Of course not, my Master." She shook her head gently, her hair swaying like a cascade of black silk. "I came to bring you a piece of new information."
She took a step forward, leaned in close to Murphy’s ear, and whispered softly:
"Did you know? The Half-Plane of the Holy City... is about to open."
