industrial lord

Chapter 785 Negotiations Suspended
It would be good if Marcin could receive Frederick's reward, but more importantly, he needed to complete the mission in Kazimir.

"I've come here to discuss something," Marchin said, getting down to business.

"The climate has been unusually cold in recent years, and the winter from last year to this year has been longer than usual."

"This year, wheat and other grains in various countries have suffered a sharp decline in production due to severe weather, and all countries are facing severe challenges."

Frederick immediately understood what was going on.

Currently, grain production is declining in the north, while the situation in the south is better. However, due to the existence of the canal and the convenience of the railway, the Duchy of Weisen has become a vital hub for the trade of bulk commodities between the north and the south.

To the south of the Kingdom of Piast lies the Bohemian region, and further south is its old enemy, the Osmaga Empire. To open up a land trade route to the south is nothing short of a pipe dream.

If they want to buy grain from the south, they cannot do without the transport routes of the Duchy of Wessen.

To avoid being held hostage, Kazimir sent Marcin to discuss with Frederick, suggesting that Frederick profit from the situation.

After Marchin finished speaking, he sighed inwardly.

Next spring, when the harvest is scarce, a food shortage is inevitable in the Kingdom of Piast. Once the famine begins, food prices will inevitably rise, and countless people will starve to death.

Frederick sat up abruptly, his face instantly filled with astonishment and disbelief, even a hint of fear.

When Marchin saw the change in his expression, his heart sank. This negotiation was probably not going to end well.

Sure enough, Frederick's voice became slightly higher than usual after that.

“Count Marchin,” a hint of anger flashed in his eyes, “you mean that your King, His Majesty Kazimir, wants to do large-scale grain business with me?”

Marchin realized the situation was dire and immediately said, "My lord, His Majesty Kazimir is willing to purchase large quantities of grain at a price 20% higher than last year, using our high-quality iron ore and other resources as payment."

After receiving confirmation, Frederick laughed incredulously, shook his head, and seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world.

After he finished laughing, he leaned back on the sofa, looked at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, and let out a long sigh.

"Has His Majesty Kazimir forgotten something?" Frederick sneered. "A year ago, less than twelve months ago, His Majesty Kazimir personally led 50,000 Winged Hussars, their wings blotting out the sky, on a thousand-mile raid..."

"Hmm... Who was His Majesty Kazimir fighting outside Redwheel Village? Count Marchin, could you please help me recall?"

Kazimir had anticipated this, and Marchin was prepared for it, so he said directly, "The price can be 25% higher than the same period last year."

In Marchin's view, Frederick's mention of this matter was nothing more than a bargaining chip; he could simply ask for more money.

Frederick, as if he hadn't heard him ask for more money, continued expressionlessly, "In the Battle of Redwaterwheel Village, the Winged Hussars played a crucial role, directly leading to the rhesus defeat of our Rhine Alliance army during its retreat to Redwaterwheel Village, as well as the sweeping of the surrounding villages and towns."

"In that battle, how many warriors of the Rhine Alliance shed their blood and stained the earth red?"

"How many families lost sons, husbands, and fathers in that war?"

"Do you know how much that battle cost me personally?"

"And now, you, the envoy of Casimir, sit before me, demanding large-scale grain trade with me in such a matter-of-fact tone?!"

Frederick's eyes widened in fury as he roared, "What do you think the other nobles in the Rhine Alliance, especially those who lost loved ones in this war, will think of me, Frederick von Wessen?!"

"What kind of person will they think I am?"

"A traitor who, for a little money, forgets the still-warm blood feud and does business with the enemy?!" This series of questions was like sharp knives piercing Marchin's body.

He felt that the fireplace next to him was burning too brightly, making his cheeks hot and beads of sweat dripping down his forehead.

Although the Kingdom of Piaster suffered a crushing defeat in that great war, the Rhine Alliance also suffered heavy losses, with many nobles going bankrupt or even dying out of line, which even affected this year's agricultural production.

Marchin instinctively turned his head away from Frederick's scorching gaze, then turned slightly to look at the flickering flames in the fireplace, as if he could glean something from them.

More than fifteen minutes of silence filled the living room before Marchin finally coughed.

He sat upright, trying to maintain the dignity of a special envoy, but his voice lacked confidence.

“Your Excellency,” Marcin said, “you are right, I understand.”

"I regret what happened in the past."

"War cannot be avoided at will; His Majesty Kazimir was forced into it."

Frederick simply snorted and said nothing.

Marcin racked his brains to steer the conversation back on track without touching on taboo topics: "The current predicament...famine doesn't discriminate between friend and foe...millions upon millions of ordinary people...are all under threat..."

Frederick suddenly interrupted him, saying coldly, "When an avalanche occurs, every snowflake is bravely venturing to the ends of the earth."

Marcin was speechless; playing the victim card was out of the question.

He bit his lip tightly, and after half a minute, the words seemed to be squeezed out of his throat: "As far as I know, trade has never stopped through the sea channels, with ships bearing the flag of a northern country."

It's no secret that Frederick has been allowing the Dawn Merchant Guild to continue doing business with the three belligerent nations of last year under the banner of the Sami League; the situation is quite obvious.

Some things, though seemingly insignificant, can feel incredibly heavy once weighed.

By exposing this matter, Marcin was resorting to a desperate measure, especially since Frederick had just said so much, which was the only card he could use to threaten him.

The living room fell silent once again.

Marchin's forehead was covered in even more sweat, for his words would surely anger Grand Duke Wessen, and he might soon become an unnamed corpse in the distant mountains.

But once the arrow is released, there's no turning back; words spoken cannot be taken back, so all one can do is grit one's teeth and persevere.

Frederick seemed not to have heard what he said. He picked up his teacup, took a slow sip, and then slowly put it down before looking at Marcin.

“Marchin,” he smiled, “negotiation is negotiation, and life is life.”

"Since the differences are too great to reach an agreement, why not relax for a few days and not let work ruin the wonderful memories of this hot spring city?"

After Frederick finished speaking, he stood up, turned around, and left.

In the empty living room, Marchin frowned, his mind racing.

He was pondering Frederick's last words: the door to cooperation wasn't completely closed, but the failure to reach an agreement wasn't due to money, but for other reasons.

The negotiations did not break down completely. Marcin believed that Grand Duke Wessen wanted to use this matter to his advantage. Once the true intentions were understood, this deal might yield unexpected benefits.

(End of this chapter)