Chapter 122: The Clown and the Gold Coins (Part 2)

  As the ministers discussed, opinions gradually converged toward the hope of peaceful trade with Oufu.

  Several finance ministers roughly calculated the potential losses from war with Oufu versus the benefits of accepting Oufu's terms and continuing trade. Comparing these gains and losses sparked another small commotion. Several ministers' eyes gleamed with the golden light of coins. Had Her Majesty the Queen and His Eminence the Cardinal not been seated above, they would likely have eagerly signed a permanent peace treaty with Oufu on the spot.

  Queen Katherine listened quietly to the ministers' discussion. Then she turned to the Merchant Guild Leader, still wearing that captivating smile, and asked: "Merchant Guild Leader Luther. You should be the person in Erathia most familiar with Oufu and those orcs. I wish to hear your opinion."

  "Your Majesty, I beg leave to speak." The Merchant Guild Leader bowed and stepped forward. This was precisely why he had come. Sedros's thousand gold coins were certainly beautiful, but more importantly, the Erathia Merchant Guild had suffered the greatest losses since trade with Oufu ceased. Now that Oufu had generously offered terms and the envoy appeared useless, the next step depended on his own powers of persuasion.

  Moreover, Her Majesty the Queen had now taken the initiative to ask his opinion, and he had been wondering how to find an opportunity to speak. If he could truly restore relations between the two countries through his own efforts and win the Queen's appreciation, it would be achieving multiple goals at once—a meteoric rise. Filled with fighting spirit, the Merchant Guild Leader said in the most sincere tone he could muster: "This commoner can guarantee with his head that those recent incidents are absolutely not Oufu's responsibility."

  "Oh?" Queen Katherine's brows relaxed, revealing a curious expression. "Then what do you say happened?"

  The Queen's attitude made the Merchant Guild Leader's voice grow stronger as he said: "First and foremost, Oufu had no motive to initiate these incidents. Since Oufu's establishment, the once treacherous Barbarian Highlands have become a thoroughfare for merchants. Oufu relied entirely on this to develop to its current scale, and Oufu City's economy depends almost entirely on trade. For such a city, relations with surrounding countries are particularly important. Even someone with minimal sense would know they would never deliberately provoke trouble and sour relations with neighboring countries." The Merchant Guild Leader bowed and looked around at the ministers. "You, Your Excellencies, in high positions and thoroughly familiar with state politics, surely understand this even better."

  "I suppose Your Excellencies' greatest concern is the orcs' unchangeable nature—that they occasionally succumb to their beastly nature, committing those heinous acts. But this commoner has long known Mr. Sedros, the lord of Oufu City, and Mr. Sedros's name is probably known to everyone on the continent. Such a wise, learned, and renowned man, who could lead orcs to establish a city of this scale from nothing in the Barbarian Highlands—could he possibly fail to manage his own orcs afterward? As for those orcs, anyone who has visited Oufu knows they are actually not much different from ordinary people. Even wild beasts like wolves, once tamed into dogs, can coexist peacefully with humans. Why can't we believe in a race closer to us than wolves, one that can communicate with us through language?"

  "Your Excellencies also know that among the various tragedies that occurred during this period, our Merchant Guild suffered the greatest losses. More than ten merchants were brutally killed by rampaging orcs. Consoling and compensating their families, reallocating personnel, losses of goods—all of these caused us immense headaches. Moreover, among the dead were two or three old friends of this commoner for decades..." Merchant Guild Leader Luther produced two tears from the corners of his eyes, deploying them at this opportune moment. But then he transformed grief and anger into strength, raising his voice to say: "Nevertheless, this commoner insisted on stabilizing sentiment within the Merchant Guild, maintaining everyone's confidence in Oufu. Now that Your Majesty asks for this commoner's opinion, I boldly venture to suggest that there must be some other reason behind those recent tragedies. I hope Your Majesty and Your Excellencies will investigate clearly and not hastily shift blame onto Oufu. We must not stop eating for fear of choking and sever trade with Oufu."

  Sensing that Her Majesty the Queen and the ministers' attention remained focused on him, the Merchant Guild Leader grew increasingly confident. His expression became more animated, his voice more cadenced and persuasive. He fully displayed the professional eloquence he had honed and accumulated over his lifetime. "I ask Your Majesty and Your Excellencies to trust the judgment of this old merchant, weathered by decades of experience traveling everywhere—Oufu is indeed trustworthy. But most importantly, I believe numbers are most persuasive. The gains and losses between warring with Oufu versus trading with Oufu have already been calculated by some of Your Excellencies just now. You must be deeply impressed, so this commoner need not elaborate further."

  Many ministers nodded in agreement, and the atmosphere moved another step closer to what the Merchant Guild Leader hoped for. The old merchant's face actually flushed with a youthful glow.

  One minister seemed still concerned about the orcs' safety and asked with a frown: "Merchant Guild Leader Luther, have you truly had close contact with those orcs? Are they really not dangerous?"

  The Merchant Guild Leader spread his hands in a gesture of complete reassurance. "I won't hide it from you. I went to Oufu when it was first established. Conditions there were extremely poor then, with almost no buildings, so at night I slept squeezed into a cave with two werewolves and an ogre. You should know, those orcs could barely speak then."

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "Weren't you afraid at all?" the minister asked in astonishment. "You know, ogres attack villages and hunt humans for food when food is scarce."

  The Merchant Guild Leader thought for a moment, lowered his head with a sigh, and said: "Actually, I was a little worried, so I didn't sleep well at night. But what I worried about wasn't being killed and eaten..."

  "Then what were you worried about?"

  The Merchant Guild Leader frowned, looking troubled. "Well... what I worried about... it's not convenient to say..."

  Several ministers frowned with concern and asked: "What were you worried about? Speak freely. Helping us understand those orcs better is precisely why Her Majesty invited you here."

  The Merchant Guild Leader's face reddened as he lowered his head and said: "Because the ogre next to me was female, and she wasn't wearing much clothing... so I was worried..."

  "Pfft!" The ministers desperately tried to suppress laughter, several turning red from holding it in. A military minister leaned toward his colleague and whispered: "So he wasn't afraid of being eaten, but afraid of being forced to eat. If he actually ate that... this old man might be the first in history."

  "I wonder if he could manage it. Looking at that withered old man, I'm afraid he was worried about falling in and drowning..." the colleague whispered back. Then both flushed red, stifling their laughter.

  The laughter around him was the same as when he first entered—still mocking and teasing—but to the Merchant Guild Leader, it felt like the difference between heaven and hell. He felt success was just one step away. Of course, outwardly he maintained an embarrassed, awkward expression.

  Playing the clown at appropriate times is not a bad social tactic. People usually let their guard down around someone slightly ridiculous, find it easier to approach them, and thus more readily accept that person and their opinions and viewpoints. The Merchant Guild Leader was very satisfied with his exquisite performance. He couldn't help but glance at Lord Bolgan, who had been standing foolishly to the side, feeling extreme contempt. As clowns, the significance he and this dwarf conveyed was completely different.

  The lady-in-waiting beside Queen Katherine seemed to find the last remark somewhat abrupt and stepped forward as if to reprimand him. But the Queen gently raised her hand. The lady-in-waiting stepped back.

  Her Majesty the Queen sat on her throne, looking down kindly yet majestically at the ministers and the Merchant Guild Leader below. She also wore a smile, but it was completely different from the self-satisfied expressions of those below hers. It was a gaze from above, like a hostess looking at her pets—kind and friendly, but absolutely not on the same level.

  From the moment the Merchant Guild Leader began speaking, Her Majesty the Queen had not spoken nor shown any stance. She appeared unhurried, seemingly paying no mind to their discussion topic, as if waiting for something else.

  "The Lord says: Greed for money is the root of all evil." A voice rang out.

  This sudden, heavy, and solemn voice echoed through the hall's space, like a background note possessing immense power, instantly freezing the relaxed atmosphere in the hall. All laughter and whispers immediately vanished.

  Cardinal Eschol, who had remained silent and expressionless, finally spoke. All ministers' expressions and moods immediately sank—not just because of the Cardinal's status and the meaning of his words, but as if the voice itself contained a compelling force. As soon as he spoke, the air in the hall seemed filled with solemnity and gravity.

  "The lives of innocent believers killed by those orcs—how many gold coins are they worth? The defiled statue of the Lord—how many gold coins is that worth? The clergy who were murdered—how many gold coins are they worth?" The Cardinal's voice wasn't particularly loud, but its authority grew increasingly majestic and awe-inspiring, even making one feel the urge to kneel. "And what about His Holiness the Pope's words—how many gold coins are they worth? Does your faith in the Lord also have a price in gold coins?"

  The Merchant Guild Leader's earlier complacent mood immediately collapsed. Although in his mind he had already calculated the prices the Cardinal mentioned very clearly with professional habit, even with a thousand times his confidence, he wouldn't dare speak them aloud.

  On the Western Continent, the most influential force was not any powerful nation, but that small place spanning dozens of miles, surrounded by several religious countries, where Celeste with The Radiant Citadel was located. Even the crowns on every king's head must be personally placed by His Holiness the Pope. So while one might privately disdain the Lord and prostrate oneself before gold and power, in public one must display piety. The Inquisition's stake had never grown cold.

  "Measuring all actions by the standard of interest is a sign that the soul is about to fall." The Cardinal's gaze fell upon the Merchant Guild Leader. This gaze wasn't sharp—it didn't contain the sharpness of blades, but the oppressive weight of a mountain.

  The Merchant Guild Leader bowed his head, not daring to meet Cardinal Eschol's gaze, staring only at the ground as cold sweat poured down his back. The image of a stake had already appeared in his mind.

  Before entering the palace, the Merchant Guild Leader had naturally considered the Church's reaction and prepared a set of arguments. But his pragmatic merchant mind hadn't anticipated that the Cardinal would directly elevate the topic to the level of faith. One must know that any substantive issue has room for discussion and maneuver, but once it rises to a metaphysical level, reason becomes unclear. And what he hadn't expected even more was the Cardinal's gaze, and the authority implicit in that voice, which seemed to directly touch his soul, crushing his will and courage to speak into fragments, leaving only panic and fear.

  "Rest assured, Your Eminence. Merchant Guild Leader Luther's faith in the Lord is unquestionable. The annual tribute and donations to Celeste include a substantial contribution from the Merchant Guild." Queen Katherine finally spoke. Her voice was gentle and kind, like warm water with a hint of mint, unknowingly dispelling the solemnity and gravity the Cardinal had frozen in the hall.

  The Merchant Guild Leader was inspired by this voice. He immediately knelt before the Cardinal, pulled out an exquisite cross from his robe, and said in a loud voice: "Your Eminence, please see clearly—my faith in the Lord has never wavered in the slightest. What I do is also for the glory of the Lord. War would take the lives of millions of the Lord's believers, while peace can bring wealth to believers, allowing them to donate more wealth to Celeste each year."

  "Those who dedicate their blood and lives to steadfast faith—their souls shall ascend to heaven. Accepting gold from blasphemers—the holy cross will also lose its luster." The Cardinal's expression and gaze didn't change in the slightest, still looking at the Merchant Guild Leader with that same faint expression. Cold as a mountain, solemn as ice. His voice echoed not only in the hall but seemed to seep into one's marrow. The Merchant Guild Leader felt the cold sweat on his back had frozen into a layer of ice.

  "Your Eminence worries too much. Merchant Guild Leader Luther probably just didn't consider things thoroughly enough. As a merchant, his way of thinking is understandable." If the Cardinal's words and presence were a gloomy, dark sky canopy covering everything in the hall, then the kind smile on Her Majesty the Queen's face now was a ray of sunlight. The Merchant Guild Leader could clearly sense that there was unmistakable appreciation in the Queen's gaze as she looked at him.

  "Faith alone is all a believer possesses." Cardinal Eschol no longer paid attention to the Merchant Guild Leader, shifting his gaze to Queen Katherine's face. "Your Majesty, from the profit-seeking mentality of these people alone, one can see that the orc's den is indeed filled with corrupting evil aura. I request that you immediately decide to declare war on Oufu in alliance with surrounding nations."