Chapter 425: Cutting Off Profit

As always, winter in the Icy Sea region moved at a slow pace. Even in Nagrand, where people made full use of the flat, frozen surface to haul timber, coal, ore, and all kinds of goods by sled, it was no different.

Nagrand, primarily inhabited by ratfolk, still slumbered under winter’s hush. With the rest of the beastkin making up less than one-tenth of the population, their scattered activity only made the ever-growing city feel even emptier and quieter.

Wu Qingsong was quickly intercepted by a patrol unit. Upon recognizing him, they immediately dispatched a rider at full speed to report his return, while half the unit split off to escort the lord of the Icy Sea back to the city.

After the chieftains had collectively embraced the Xuanyuan Church and formally recognized Nagrand’s suzerainty, these beastkin could no longer be considered mere hired guards. They were now vassals, fulfilling their obligations to their liege lord. Nevertheless, Wu Qingsong still insisted on rewarding them generously and continued to grant the clan leaders a share of the benefits.

Thanks to this environment, Sertans was now able to recruit soldiers who met Wu Qingsong’s standards from among the various clans. Those who violated discipline or refused orders were simply sent back. Coupled with the military discipline and training protocols borrowed wholesale from the Empire’s regular army, Nagrand’s patrol units had become noticeably more professional. At least in Wu Qingsong’s eyes, while they still lagged behind the elite forces of Sentalus in terms of equipment and polish, they were leagues ahead of ordinary garrison troops.

As per tradition, people gathered to welcome him at the square outside city hall. Wu Qingsong saw Ram and Xeila there, holding the children in their arms. He leapt off his horse and ran up to them.

“I’m back! Are you all alright? Hey, why’d you bring the kids out in this cold? Even Ling came out? What if they catch a cold?”

The beastkin women looked at him with slight confusion—only then did he remember: this wasn’t his old world. In this one, people didn’t fuss over things like keeping children wrapped in cotton wool or treating them like fragile treasures.

Besides, wasn’t that what Nina and Alice were for?

He gave a self-deprecating shake of the head and took his eldest daughter and son from their mothers’ arms. Both children were nearly a year old now and looked healthy and full of energy. Even in this frigid weather, they seemed content. His daughter reached out toward his face, curious about the unfamiliar features.

A sudden surge of duty, guilt, and tenderness welled up inside him. He bent down and kissed each child on the cheek. His daughter giggled happily, but his son scrunched up his face, displeased by the unfamiliar scent, and pushed his father’s face away with chubby little hands. Then he began to wail loudly.

Wu Qingsong gave an awkward chuckle.

He still wasn’t very good with children. Holding them felt awkward—and judging from everyone’s expressions, he wasn’t the only one who thought so. He quickly handed them back to their mothers and turned toward Ling.

“It should be any day now?” he asked, gently resting his hand on her stomach before kissing her cheek. “Good thing I made it back in time.”

***

His wives had long since grown used to his frequent absences—an unavoidable reality in a world where travel was slow and roads were poor.

Nagrand hadn’t changed much in his absence. The Church’s expansion had slowed somewhat during the winter, but the training of priests continued steadily. By spring, they would likely enter another period of rapid growth.

The situation on the Stampede Plateau had stabilized with the arrival of winter. Although mountain ranges blocked the worst of the cold and it wasn’t as frigid as Nagrand, any wintertime military operation still faced harsh logistical challenges, difficult marches, and non-combat attrition. As such, no one was likely to start a war during this season.

On the territory of Tony Barros, four or five Xuanyuan temples had already been completed, spread across all population centers of note. Thanks to Ram’s coordination, large shipments of frozen fish and Icefield rice were being loaned out from Nagrand and delivered along newly established trade routes to his domain.

Simultaneously, vast quantities of lumber and furs were being transported from Barros’ controlled regions to Nagrand. But Ram was careful not to extend too much support, so as not to provoke the other factions of the Stampede Plateau.

Thanks to this model, both the northern Sarl Alliance and the southern Pasadena Alliance were showing increasing goodwill toward Nagrand and had begun engaging in large-scale commercial exchanges.

“Long-term, there’s bound to be a clash between the Pasadena Alliance and us,” Harold said, continuing his usual role of throwing cold water on good news. “They’ve always lacked arable land and have relied for years on smuggling through the southern Elven Empire, earning their wealth from tolls and reselling contraband. But with Nagrand’s rise, we’ve effectively cut off more than half of their income. Now, beastkin traders prefer to go through the Sarl Alliance territory to reach Nagrand, where the goods are cheaper and more durable. Only a few caravans are still sourcing smuggled goods from the south.”

“The recent war on the Stampede Plateau only accelerated that trend,” he warned the group. “It helped merchants discover this newer route is not only safer but also more profitable. That’s both a good and a bad thing for us. Because it’s only a matter of time before the smugglers in Lapusia start looking into what’s happening. And we all know many of the major smuggling caravans are backed by nobles from the Grand Duchy of Fantali or their stewards. There’s no way they’ll sit idly by while their profits evaporate.”

Wu Qingsong nodded solemnly.

Cutting off someone’s source of income was no different than killing their parents. That truth was universal, no matter what world you lived in. He could easily imagine what would happen when people who had reaped enormous profits from beastkin trade suddenly found themselves hemorrhaging money. Only a fool wouldn’t try to find out what had gone wrong.

And when that time came, faced with the pressure of so many nobles from the Grand Duchy of Fantali, even someone like Julian, despite being the duke’s own son, might not be able to hold the line.

Especially when the annual losses ran into the millions of renals, while Wu Qingsong’s yearly tribute amounted to just fifty thousand. If Julian discovered the truth, he might be the first one to come charging in, sword raised, ready to kill.

“Then wasn’t everything we did before a waste of effort?” Liuli asked in disbelief.

“Not entirely,” Harold replied. “So long as we have the duke’s son’s seal of approval, it buys us time, at least until they figure out the exact nature of our connection to Julian. No one will act rashly before that.”

“The war gave them a plausible excuse for the revenue dip. Anyone can accept that. Winter is a slow season for trade; poor profits are normal. But if things don’t improve by spring, someone’s bound to start asking questions.”

“So either we let the war on the Stampede Plateau continue,” Nina said, her expression clearly showing she disliked both options, “or we help them earn just enough profit to keep them pacified?”

“Neither option is ideal,” Ram sighed. “But they would buy us time.”

Of all Wu Qingsong’s wives, Ram was undoubtedly the most frugal. But she had also invested more than anyone else in building Nagrand from the ground up.

No matter what, she couldn’t stand the thought of Nagrand being destroyed by war. So when faced with two evils, she would pick the lesser.

But Wu Qingsong shook his head. “Greed has no bottom. Trying to feed it won’t solve the problem.”

“Then what do we do?” Ram asked anxiously.

“How’s things on Anton’s side? What’s he been up to?” Wu Qingsong asked suddenly.

“Sold some deer hides for a while, then just started loafing around, waiting to die,” Ram said with a scowl. “They didn’t even store the hides properly, ruined most of them.”

“What’s his temperament like? Has Beck been sending regular reports?”

“Greedy, cowardly, lazy. What else do you want?” Ram muttered.

“Is he a good liar? How’s his silver tongue?” Wu Qingsong pressed.

“He’s been faking an illness for months now; what do you think?” Ram said, confused by his sudden line of questioning. “As for eloquence, according to Beck, he’s been trying every trick he can think of to worm his way into Lapusia high society. And being Julian’s former personal valet, he probably has decent social skills.”

“What exactly are you planning?” she asked, unable to hold back any longer.

“We need to send someone to Phoenix immediately, riding day and night,” Wu Qingsong said. “Have Dark Moon relay a message to Charlotte—no, Red Moon—via carrier pigeon. Tell her to get to Lapusia as fast as possible.”

He took a short pause and continued.

“I have an idea. One that can divert and scatter their attention, generate massive profits for Dark Moon, and land a devastating blow on the Empire. All without anyone knowing it was us.”