Travelling along the noblemen's exclusive thoroughfare, Velin's convoy proceeded unimpeded. Compared to the gridlocked state of other lanes, their progress was immeasurably swifter.
Just then, a merchant stood atop a carriage roof, beckoning to Velin's party.
Noticing this, Velin signalled for the procession to halt. His expression turning grave, he inquired, "Merchant, what is your business?"
"Your Excellency, forgive my impertinence," the merchant hastily dismounted, kneeling before Velin as he spoke.
Others in the passage witnessed this scene, promptly lowering their heads and hurrying onward, paying no heed.
The less attention paid to such matters, the safer one remained, avoiding the wrath of nobility.
"I pardon your discourtesy," Velin replied, his curiosity piqued though his expression remained composed.
"Your Excellency, I thank you for your kindness," the merchant rose from the ground and continued, "My name is unfit for your ears. I dared wave to you in the hope of joining your convoy."
Velin glanced to the side and noted the merchant's convoy comprised eight carriages. Given his status, he could exempt twenty carriages from the city toll. His own convoy currently numbered six carriages, meaning fourteen slots remained. It was precisely this opportunity the merchant had spotted, prompting him to risk his life by beckoning to Velin.
In this world, unless one possessed power sufficient to disregard worldly rules, one could only grovel before nobility.
"So, what price are you willing to pay?"
The merchant's face lit up at the question, and he hastened to reply, "My lord, if you would assist me, I can offer you two fine Half-elves as tribute."
"Half-elves?" Velin's brow furrowed at the mention of the term.
The southeastern border of the Kingdom of Ilia adjoined a Half-elf kingdom, a powerhouse whose strength slightly surpassed Ilia's. Consequently, the kingdom officially prohibited the capture and sale of Half-elves.
Yet, regulations were one thing; for profit, many still took the risk.
Clearly, the merchant before him was one such individual.
Moreover, numerous nobles across the realm were entangled in this web, forming a vast, intricate industrial chain.
The royal court turned a blind eye to these activities, secretly instructing the directly governed cities of each province to levy heavy taxes, thereby profiting from the trade.
The merchant noticed Velin's expression change and, assuming he was dissatisfied with the price, immediately prepared to raise his offer.
But before he could speak, Velin cut him off: "I have no interest in the half-elves you've brought."
"My lord, I beg your pardon. I'd be willing to give you..." The merchant wiped sweat from his brow.
"Listen, merchant," Velin cut him off bluntly. "Should you possess something to pique my interest, I might permit you to join my caravan, thereby avoiding the exorbitant city entry tax."
According to the customary tax on Half-elves entering major cities of the Kingdom of Ilia, the levy typically amounted to ten percent of the slave's total value.
The merchant's face twisted in pain at this, glancing back at his caravan before gritting his teeth. He produced two spheres from his cloak and offered them respectfully to Velin. "My lord, these are items I came upon by chance. I hope you will appreciate them. Should the value be insufficient, I shall gladly make up the difference in gold coins."
Velin accepted the two spheres, slowly infusing them with magic. A faint reaction stirred, then swiftly subsided.
Though subtle, he had detected it.
The merchant's expression suggested the items held considerable worth, yet he sought to extort further payment—after all, he felt no qualms about fleecing slave traders.
"Merchant, you may join my caravan. However, you must pay an additional thousand gold coins to secure this opportunity."
"My deepest gratitude, my lord! My deepest gratitude!"
The merchant's face lit with excitement as he swiftly produced ten hundred-gold-coin vouchers from his pocket. Issued by the Royal Bank of Ilia, they bore engraved micro-magic circles and special seals for authentication.
Velin took them, examined them carefully, then stowed them in his pocket alongside the two spheres before urging his horses onward.
Seeing this, the merchant hastily ordered his men to follow Velin's convoy through the noble passageway towards the city gates.
The gate officer, spotting the Ecks family Eagle banner flying from Velin's carriage, waved off the city guards' inspection and granted passage.
"Sir, this slave trader has eight carriages carrying at least thirty Half-elves. If we levied the city entry tax, that's a minimum of three thousand gold coins," the clerk beside him observed as Velin's convoy passed, voicing his puzzlement.
"Do you think I wouldn't if I could?" The gate officer slapped the clerk on the head, his voice tinged with irritation. "That's the Ecks family's Eagle banner, not some minor noble to be trifled with. It represents one of the five major powers in West River Capital. Do you think I'd dare levy taxes on them?"
"Sir, I was being greedy."
The clerk hastily admitted his mistake, daring not to argue.
...
Upon entering the city, Velin surveyed the bustling thoroughfares and found his worldview thoroughly shaken.
Having lived within Windsor Castle for eighteen years, he had seldom ventured out. Not being the heir apparent, his family placed no pressure upon him to engage in social obligations, and he had grown into a rather indolent character.
Lining both sides of the streets were shops of every conceivable kind—magic scrolls, wands, mana crystals, the flesh and blood of beasts—nothing was lacking.
"My lord, shall we rest in the city for a few days?" Captain Baird of the knightly escort stepped forward to inquire.
"No. Proceed directly to the teleportation array. We may rest in Carod Province, bordering Grimfang Plains, without delay."
Velin waved his hand, signalling the convoy to follow. He had no intention of lingering in West River Capital.
He had calculated that a single night's lodging here would cost at least a hundred gold coins – funds sufficient to purchase two serfs.
In the early stages of one's endeavours, every penny must be saved.
Two hours later, Velin's convoy arrived before a colossal edifice.
A middle-aged man clad in a mage's robe approached, offering his respects: "Good day, my lord."
"Good day to you, sir. " Velin returned the noble courtesy. "My convoy requires teleportation to Carod Province, on the border of Grimfang Plains."
"Please wait a moment."
The mage then summoned two apprentice mages to inspect the convoy, recording details on parchment for valuation.
Five minutes later, the middle-aged mage handed Velin a sheet covered in calculations.
"My Lord, this is the estimated cost. By virtue of the Ecks family's privileges, you shall only be required to pay eighty percent of the fee."
"Thank you."
Velin glanced briefly at the paper, noting the transfer fee he needed to pay was six thousand gold coins. After thanking the middle-aged mage, he led his men through the inspection of the magical array and entered the colossal structure.
Velin entrusted his horse to Orlando and proceeded to the nearby toll station bearing a gold note for ten thousand gold coins.
The red-haired woman seated at the toll station observed Velin approaching. She composed herself, abandoning her previous languid posture.
"Madam, here is the fee slip."
Velin handed the paper given to him by the middle-aged mage to the red-haired woman, then produced the Eagle insignia representing the Ecks family, placing it before her.
After the red-haired woman completed the necessary procedures, Velin handed her the ten thousand gold coin note.
"Sir, would you prefer gold coins or the note?"
After a moment's consideration, Velin replied to the red-haired woman's inquiry: "Five thousand gold coins in notes, and two hundred gold coins in coins."
"Please wait a moment."
The red-haired woman entered a string of information into a magical device, reminiscent of a mobile phone from his previous life, making it quite familiar to him.
Finally, Velin tucked the five thousand gold coin note into his pocket, carried the two hundred gold coins in an exquisite cloth bag, and made his way towards his carriage.