"Sir, we have confirmed the energy readings. The first reading was yesterday, and our esteemed guest registered four more today. What are your instructions?".
"The fruit is ripe, and we don't want it to be overripe. Our orders were to collect the goods between three days and four weeks after the first reading, so that is what we are going to do. We have waited long enough, and the little sheep have developed in peace. They won't be prepared for it, but just in case, send our primary cells for it. I want this job to be quick and clean, in and out, understood? There is no need to alert the Mayor," a deep voice responded.
"It shall be done."
After sending its lackey on the way, the owner of the deep voice took a luxurious crystal bottle of wine out of a shelf. After pouring it into a matching crystal glass and taking a sip, he smiled in satisfaction. Years of preparation, and now the little seed he had planted was finally ready to be reaped. Activating the primary cells meant a risk of exposure, but the completion of their contract would let him rise above the others.
Admittedly, their contract required a few more seeds to be sowed and reaped, but every bit closer to the goal was a reason for celebration. No longer would the others look down on him, no longer would they dare to dismiss his influence. Losing a few underlings was a price he was willing to pay.
...
A total of 63 fang wolves had brought in a direct income of 1 gold and 89 silver, marking their biggest haul even compared to the grassfox reward, which had been doubled at that time. If they could keep this up, then they would end up being the ones hiring and sponsoring Edgar. Unfortunately, the fang wolf population was just as limited as the grassfox population.
Excessive hunting would gradually eradicate that species from Dagger's Rock Island. Not that this would be a bad thing, for the normal population at least. It just meant such an income was not sustainable.
Reinhardt had already calmed down. Something about hacking wolves apart was mildly therapeutic. Yes, it was disappointing that his employer did not feel like he could trust him even after seven years of service. On the other hand, knowing what was at stake, Reinhardt would probably have acted the same.
No matter how much you trust someone, the more people that knew about a secret, the more likely it would one day stop being a secret. That was just how it worked. It was impossible to keep the secret from Sturm, and at the same time, teach him magic. He was certainly the first non-prospective magician to know and looking at it from that perspective, maybe he should even feel grateful they decided to tell him now.
More importantly, now was the time to take additional preventive measures. While the Thunder Merchant's leader surely had taken his own, a former mercenary had his own way of doing things. Dealings with Tibron rarely ended well, and if the underworld kingpin knew about the contents of the crate he sold, which he undoubtedly did, then he literally had them by their balls. What was Edgar even thinking?
Sturm saw Reinhardt being lost in thoughts on their way back, but he simply guessed that the big northerner was annoyed by them for hiding information from him. While a little disappointed that he could not brag about how he came up with the [Fists of Mjölnir], Sturm decided not to interrupt their guard captain's thoughts.
After handing in their proofs of kills and subsequently the remaining fang wolf parts they were able to transport, which were mostly well their fangs, the two found themselves in front of their headquarters after a long day of hard work. One of the slaves greeted them respectfully and informed them that baths had already been prepared for them.
The slave was a former cartographer. Upon seeing the other artisans and craftsmen diligently practicing their crafts for either their or their families' futures, the former commoner decided to swallow his pride and do whatever he could. A cartographer simply was not necessary for the Thunder Merchant Group at their current state. While that may change in the future, cooking and cleaning were what they needed right now.
Both Sturm and Reinhardt decided to take a bath before meeting their boss. They stank, were covered in blood, and incredibly exhausted. Especially Sturm, as casting magic made their hunt twice as exhausting for him compared to before. Mana cells were full of energy, and as such, regenerating it required just as much rest and food intake as physical exercise would. Will, on the other hand, was just mentally exhausting but exhausting nonetheless. Meditation and good sleep were the best help in that regard.
The relaxing bath, combined with another serving of dry stambread, worked wonders on their physical and mental states. Sturm wanted to excuse himself, but Reinhardt insisted he came along. It was time to confront Edgar.
*Knock*
"Come in. How was your first day back on the job? Please don't tell me something happened again." Edgar invited them in.
He was sitting behind a desk while skimming through a pile of documents but put them aside when his two closest aides took a seat in front of him. The casual tone sounded somewhat fake as the merchant forced a smile at his guard captain. This display was nothing like the usual calm and calculating Edgar, but hiding important information from someone that worked for you tirelessly and without complaint for so many years was not something he was proud of. Still, Edgar did not regret this decision. Them still being alive was proof that it had been the correct decision.
"Edgar, I know what you are thinking, but I have already thought about it, and I can't say I can blame you for your decision. What I want to know is what your measures are. Pirates, and especially those from the underworld, are not known to keep secrets. We are lucky Daga did not suspect anything that day and that Sturm is not someone easily caught doing something he does not want others to see. But every secret eventually comes out, and then you either have the power to suppress it or measures to escape from the consequences." Reinhardt had already made up his mind and refused to receive an apology. What mattered now was ensuring their continued safety.
"Alright, while I can't say I made a mistake, I do really have to say I feel sorry for not letting you in on our secret sooner. I promise that nothing else will be hidden from you, so I hope you can continue to take care of our safety as our guard captain." This was something Edgar had to get out. Reinhardt deserved an apology, wanted or not. "Regarding those two options you mentioned, I agree, and I have prepared for both. Our business is expanding, and we both know that this required support from both the light and the dark side of powers here in Dagger's Rock Town.
We did not only receive help from Geronimo but also Tibron, thereby tying their interests to ours. Especially Tibron, that dirty shark, is happy to have us on his side, not the Mayors. I informed him that Geronimo's support is purely out of gratitude and not a representation of the Mayor's will. Soon we will be influential enough to rival the Siren Merchants. Suppressing the information won't be problematic at that point.
Now, what to do when everything falls apart? Our contingency is using our connections to flee to the north. Our business partners have already offered us to pay them a visit."
<
Reinhardt, on the other hand, did not seem to take it as well. "Edgar, Sir, with all due respect, you know my relationship with the Northern Tribes. There is a reason I came to the Pirate Seas instead of staying in the north."
"But it is through your acquaintance that we managed to secure this deal. I am sure your tribe would be happy to see you again," Edgar argued.
"That does not mean that I would be happy to see them again. Also, Ferdinand secured us the deal because he gets a cut and not because he likes me. Their invitation is similarly motivated by interest, not friendliness. It is your call, boss, but I want you to triple my salary if we end up forced down that route," Reinhardt responded.
The guard captain rarely talked about his past or home country and did so more about the twenty years he spent as a mercenary. In typical mercenary fashion, sufficient compensation was enough against some personal complaints. Abandoning Edgar and Sturm was not an option anymore; they were more family to him than those in the north. If the price to stay with them was to deal with those uncultured barbarians, then so be it.
"Great! We already have quite the reserves for troubling times. Tripling your salary will be the least of my problems. Now, don't worry, it probably won't come to that. We have kept everything hidden, and except us three, no one knows Sturm, and I managed to actually learn arcane arts. Possessing a book and learning from it are two different things, and even if Tibron learns of our abilities, that will just make it more vital for him to have us on his side."
It made sense, as Tibron was the person to acquire those goods in the first place. If Edgar found out the underground shark had sold him out, then they would go down together.
"Alright, you two. I have already heard about your haul today—good job on keeping out of trouble this time. I'm sure you two will want to have a good rest now, especially you, Sturm. Tomorrow you can tell me about it in detail, but know that we will meet an important client. If this deal works out, those singing man-fish merchants will find themselves under significant pressure."