Lord: I have built a witch's sanctuary.

Chapter 146 Trade Routes and Trade

Lord Os of Black Iron City stood on the city wall, squinting at the southern horizon.

The wind stopped.

That snow season that swept across the entire North seemed to have been abruptly cut off, gone in an instant.

The snow was still piled up at the foot of the city wall, but the dark clouds in the sky had dispersed, and the long-awaited sunlight shone through the gaps in the clouds, so bright that people could not open their eyes.

Something's not right.

Os rested his hands on the battlements, his mind filled with a myriad of thoughts.

He has ruled Black Iron City for decades, inheriting his father's title. When has he ever seen the snow season end early?

This scale of snow season is backed by the Lord of Winter.

Without killing the Winter Lord, there is no way this snow season will end early.

But that was a fifth-tier monster, a fifth-tier monster.

There isn't a single Tier 5 professional in the entire northern city!

"My lord, what do you think—is it the Frostwolf City?" the adjutant standing to the side asked tentatively.

Oss asked softly, "Besides them, who else do you think could it be? The center of the snow season is in the direction of Frostwolf City, and the blizzards are blowing in from that direction. There's only one way to end the snow season."

"Kill the Winter Lord."

The adjutant swallowed hard.

Kill the Winter Lord? That's a fifth-tier creature.

Even if Black Iron City went all out, it might not be able to withstand a single charge from it. What would Frostwolf City use to kill it?

"My lord, Frostwolf City hasn't always been—"

"It's terribly rotten?"

Os finished speaking for him, "I sent people to negotiate before the snow season. Do you think I don't know what kind of place that is? The Countess hides in the inner castle all day, living off magic crystals, while the commoners in the outer city can't even get food. Those nobles are only good at bullying their own people; they're all more aggressive than the last when it comes to dealing with their own subjects."

"That's why it's strange—"

Oss remained silent for a few moments, then turned around.

"Send scouts—" He stopped mid-sentence.

Os rubbed his short beard, as if he was pondering something.

The adjutant waits.

"Never mind." Os slapped the battlement. "I'll go myself."

"You're going in person?"

"What can you find out by sending scouts? They just scout around and come back; that's not intelligence."

Oss had already turned and was walking towards the stairs, waving his hand as he went, "Prepare a carriage, just two people will do, don't make too much of a fuss."

The adjutant trotted to catch up. "Your Excellency, should we inform Frostwolf City beforehand? The Countess is still in power there—sending her a formal invitation would be a good idea."

"Need not."

Oss didn't even turn his head.

"If that woman knew I was there, she would inevitably throw a banquet and spend half a day making empty polite conversation with me."

What Earl's arrival from afar, what comrades from the North standing together in solidarity—"

Os frowned. "Just listening is a waste of time. I'll go check on the situation and then leave."

The carriage traveled north along the official road in the northern border region.

The snow has begun to melt, and damp, muddy patches are emerging from the frozen ground on both sides of the road.

Os lifted the curtain and looked out. There were ruts on the official road, but they didn't look like they were made by a horse-drawn carriage. Instead, they looked like the marks left by something heavier and wider.

Without thinking much, he lowered the curtain and leaned back in his chair.

Black Iron City isn't too far from Frostwolf City; a journey that takes two days by fast horse took three days by carriage.

On the evening of the third day, the outline of Frostwolf City could be seen in the distance.

Os lifted the curtain again.

In his memory, Frostwolf City had cracks everywhere on its outer walls, and the gray stones were eroded by wind and snow, making them look like they were about to collapse at any moment.

But now, the city walls come into view—

The dark gray wall has a metallic sheen, with tight seams, and you can even see some kind of regular pattern on the surface.

"When was this repaired?"

The adjutant also peered out the window but didn't say anything.

He had never seen a city wall like this before.

The carriage stopped in front of the city gate.

Os got off the bus without identifying himself, wearing only an ordinary fur coat.

There was actually a queue at the city gate—not just a few people, but more than twenty people in total. Some were pushing handcarts, some were driving donkey carts, and a few people who looked like merchants were carrying large and small bags.

"Since when have we had to queue at the gates of Frostwolf City?" he muttered to himself.

A vendor in front of him in line turned around and glanced at him. "Is this your first time here?"

Os nodded.

"That's normal." The merchant sighed. "There are more and more people coming to Frostwolf City to do business lately, and you have to register at the city gate. But the fast ones are the ones ahead, they're the ones transporting goods, they're moving slowly."

Oss didn't ask any more questions and obediently stood in line. He glanced around, seemingly casually.

The guards at the city gate were equipped with far superior gear than he remembered—uniform leather armor and identical short blades at their waists.

What struck him even more was the spirit and morale of the guards. They stood straight and had sharp eyes, unlike the crooked, old-fashioned soldiers he had seen the last time he came.

When it was his turn, the guard asked a few routine questions, registered him, and then let him pass.

As soon as he entered the city gate, Os slowed down.

The streets are clean.

It's not just "decently clean," it's truly clean.

There wasn't a single puddle of sewage on the ground, and the road surface was smooth and even.

Although the buildings on both sides are still somewhat old, the cracks in the walls have been filled, and some buildings have even been repainted.

A square-headed puppet carried a stone slab past him, its movements steady, as if it were rushing to repair the road.

Not far away, two more identical puppets were squatting in front of a house, building a wall.

Engineering puppet?

Os frowned.

This thing is said to only be found in some ancient ruins, so how did it end up in Frostwolf City?

After walking about a hundred steps forward, an even greater impact came rushing towards us.

People coming and going on the street all had smiles on their faces.

This statement may not seem like much, but when Frostwolf City-Oss arrived during the snow season, the commoners in the outer city were all emaciated, with vacant eyes, and even staggered as they walked.

The beggars on the street could line up all the way from the city gate to the market, children ran barefoot in dirty water, and the air was always filled with a sour and stinky smell.

What now?

A woman wearing a clean cotton robe walked towards us, carrying a baby wrapped up tightly in her arms.

A boy of about seven or eight years old was walking beside him, holding a meat skewer in his hand and munching on it as he went.

Meat skewers.

When will the commoners outside Frostwolf City be able to eat meat?

Os stopped and stood on the side of the street for a long while, lost in thought.

The adjutant leaned closer and whispered, "My lord, is this place—truly Frostwolf City?"

"What do you think?" Os glared at him irritably.

Three months.

It's been three months from the start of the snow season until now.

In Black Iron City, it's a miracle if people don't starve during the snowy season; Frostwolf City, on the other hand, is a completely different story.

He continued walking into the city. The further he walked, the more apprehensive he became.

The main street is lined with shops on both sides, with brand-new signs and all sorts of items on the shelves.

There were queues in front of several shops, with people coming and going to buy things, creating a lively atmosphere.

A man in overalls came out of the shop, carrying a small machine of unknown purpose on his shoulder, with a happy expression on his face.

Os's gaze swept over his clothes, which were made of cotton, neatly made, and had a thin edge sewn around the collar.

In Black Iron City, only a minor nobleman could afford such clothes.

"The third generation," he suddenly said in a low voice.

The adjutant didn't hear him clearly. "What?"

"My grandfather's generation started running Black Iron City, and it has been three generations since then."

Oss's voice was very low, as if he were talking to himself: "Even with three generations of hard work, Black Iron City couldn't have been built like this."

At the street corner ahead, a figure caught Os's attention—a thin, small man with high cheekbones and sunken cheeks, who stood out among a group of ruddy-faced passersby.

Oss took two quick steps and stopped him.

"Excuse me, buddy."

The skinny man was startled and looked Os up and down. "What's wrong?"

"I want to ask, how did this city become like this?"

The skinny man tilted his head, giving him a "Are you stupid?" look.

"You're from out of town, right?"

"Um."

"Oh, no wonder."

The thin man leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his tone brimming with undisguised smugness. "You've come to the right person. I've lived in Frostwolf City for over twenty years and have never seen such a good life."

7

Os's heart skipped a beat. "How so?"

"What else can I say? It's all thanks to Lord Lorraine!"

The skinny man perked up at the mention of that name.

"After Lord Lorraine arrived, the first thing he did was distribute magic-powered farmland—you know what magic-powered farmland is, right? Don't know? That stuff produces several times more food than ordinary fields!"

Os nodded calmly.

"Now that the food problem is solved, Lord Lorraine has created a Babel coin."

The thin man pulled a banknote from his pocket and waved it. "Buying things with this is much more convenient than before. In the past, those merchants would raise prices arbitrarily, but now the shops in the lord's manor have set prices directly, which are very fair, and no one can mess around with them."

"The shops in the lord's manor?"

"Ah, it's just over there on the street. You'll see when you get there." The thin man pointed east. "They have everything. Machinery, farmland, daily necessities, and the prices are shockingly cheap. Lord Lorraine said that a city prospers only when its people are doing well. Tell me, where can you find a lord like that?"

Oss was silent for a moment.

Lorraine.

Not the Countess?

He remembered that before the snow season, the ruler of Frostwolf City was that infamous countess. When did she change? And this name—Lorraine—sounds familiar...

"Wait a minute." Looking at the man's thin frame, Os couldn't help but ask, "You say Lord Lorraine is so kind, with ample food and cheap goods, so why are you—looking like this?"

The skinny man looked down at his own frame, but instead of being annoyed, he burst out laughing.

"Hey, it's not your fault, Lord." He patted his stomach. "I've had this stomach problem since I was a child. I can't digest anything I eat, and I don't gain weight even from drinking water. The doctor said it's something I was born with, and there's no cure."

Os was skeptical.

"If you don't believe me, go and see for yourself." The skinny man gestured towards the east with his chin. "You'll see for yourself. Alright, I need to hurry to the shop to get my things, I'm off now."

After saying that, he waved his hand, turned around, and slipped away.

Os stood there, watching the thin man's figure disappear into the crowd.

"Let's go." He started walking eastward. "Let's go check out that shop."

The size of the shops in the lord's manor far exceeded Os's expectations.

The storefronts along the entire street all had the same signs, and the flow of people coming and going was as dense as a market.

Upon entering, one sees various goods neatly arranged on the shelves.

Small mechanical tools, planting kits for magical farms, complete sets of daily tools, and even a wall with several blueprints titled "Territory Building Construction Service".

Construction management service?

Os leaned closer for a look. The drawings were very detailed, with the materials and construction period clearly marked, and a string of prices he couldn't understand listed below.

He turned his head and looked around.

One by one, customers walked up to the counter, took out banknotes from their pockets, and handed them over. He recognized those banknotes earlier; they were the ones the thin man had waved in his hand.

Each banknote features the portrait of a young man.

Babel currency.

"What does this number represent?" he asked, grabbing a middle-aged man who was picking out items.

The middle-aged man glanced at him. "Babel Tower coins, huh? You're from out of town? There's an exchange shop over there; you can exchange them for magic crystals."

Following the direction he was pointing, Os saw a small window at the end of the shop with a sign that read "Magic Crystal Exchange".

He walked over and peered through the window at the exchange rate.

After looking at it, I looked down at the price tags on the shelf again.

I quickly did the mental calculations.

He froze on the spot.

Seeing that he hadn't moved for a while, the adjutant leaned closer. "Your Excellency?"

Os didn't turn around, his voice slightly unsteady, "You do the math—how much would these things be worth in magic crystals on the market?"

The adjutant picked up a price tag, looked at it, then ran to the exchange window to glance at the rate. He muttered calculations to himself for a long time before his expression changed.

One-seventh.

"Um.

""

"Some—some even lower." The adjutant swallowed hard. "This magical farm kit, after discounts, is only about one-tenth of the market price."

Os slowly turned around.

His eyes lit up.

With the snow season just over, trade routes in the North have not yet fully recovered, and caravans from other cities will take at least half a month to reach Frostwolf City.

In other words, at this very moment, he is the first outer city lord to see these goods.

One-seventh of the cost.

Even if he sells it at half the market price, he still makes double the profit.

Moreover, the quality of these goods—he picked up a small machine and examined it from all angles; its workmanship was excellent, far superior to those sold in the craftsmen's shops in Black Iron City.

"Go exchange it." Os pulled the money pouch off his waist and slapped it on the counter. The pouch opened, revealing neatly stacked magic crystals inside.

The adjutant peeked out and said, "Sir, there are only a thousand here—"

"I know." Os gritted his teeth. A thousand magic crystals were the amount of money he carried with him when he went out. Normally, it would be more than enough, but now, looking at the wall full of goods, this amount of money was like sprinkling pepper.

Let's exchange all 1,000 coins first, and buy as many as we can.

He quickly exchanged his Babel coins at the exchange window, then rushed towards the shelf with a stack of banknotes in his arms. His adjutant called after him repeatedly, "Sir, sir, please slow down," but he ignored him completely.

Ten sets of Magic Farm kits, please.

Two of each type of small construction machinery.

I've calculated that the profit margin on daily necessities is low, so I'll pick the more expensive ones first.

The paper money earned from a thousand magic crystals was spent like water.

Before long, only a few thin sheets remained in my hand.

Clutching his last few bills, Os stood in front of the shelf, staring at the row of items he hadn't yet bought.

His throat bobbed.

"Come here," he beckoned to his adjutant.

The adjutant trotted over, "Sir?"

Os grabbed him by the collar, pulled him close, and spoke in a low voice, his words coming out as if he were in a hurry.

"You, right now, immediately, ride a fast horse back to Black Iron City."

"what?"

"Bring all the magic crystals from the warehouse over here."

Os said, enunciating each word clearly, his eyes wide open, "Did you understand? All of them! Not a single one left."

The adjutant was intimidated by his demeanor: "All...all of it? Sir, what about the expenses in the city—"

"Expenses my ass!"

Os slapped him on the shoulder. "Do you know what all this means? With such high profits, once the other city lords realize what's going to happen to us, what chance will we have?"

The adjutant opened his mouth, looked at the dazzling array of goods on the surrounding shelves, thought about the prices he had just calculated, and gritted his teeth.

"I'll go right away!"

"Go quickly! Run there!"

The adjutant turned and rushed out.

Os stood in the shop, holding a bunch of things he had just bought, watching his adjutant's figure disappear through the door.

He took a deep breath and turned to look at the Babel coin with the young man's image on it on the shelf.

Lorraine.

Regardless of who this person is or how he did it—this Frostwolf City is no longer the impoverished and rotten place he remembered.

Os hugged the goods tightly, already planning the distribution route after returning.

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