Geoffrey never got a clear answer from Arthur, but with his years of business experience, he could almost be certain that Arthur's so-called "investment" was a complete loss.
Even so, Arthur wasn't part of the merchant guild, and Geoffrey had no authority to interfere with his decisions.
On the contrary, Geoffrey knew it was wiser to maintain a good relationship with someone like Arthur—a young knight with formidable combat skills.
The caravan stayed in a mountain village for two days, during which they purchased a large quantity of furs and other goods before setting off on the return journey.
The route back was slightly different, and Geoffrey spent the entire trip buying up goods wherever he could, piling the wagons so high they looked like small mountains.
Watching the exhausted horses struggling to pull the overloaded carts, Arthur couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.
He sighed inwardly. No matter the world, the nature of capital was always cold and ruthless. The only difference was who ended up being exploited.
"Exploit others, or be exploited yourself," Arthur silently reminded himself.
He knew that only by standing at the top of the food chain could he truly control his own destiny.
As they neared Sentinel City, something unexpectedly good happened.
Gilbert, Arthur's squire, had a rather unimpressive horse that suddenly appeared on Arthur's Data Panel and was upgraded to "common quality."
This seemingly minor change carried huge potential.
The quality upgrade alone increased the horse's value several times over, creating a profit margin of at least three gold coins.
But more importantly, it gave Arthur a stable source of warhorses.
In this era of primitive warfare, fully armed heavy cavalry were a decisive force—almost like the nuclear weapons of their time. And excellent warhorses were the foundation of that power.
Once back in the city, Arthur completed the caravan's mission and logged it in the task registry at the local tavern.
This wasn't just a summary of the mission but also a way to lay the groundwork for future collaborations.
If the performance was particularly outstanding, there was even a chance of earning extra rewards.
Sure enough, Geoffrey, though reluctant, paid Arthur an additional two gold coins as a bonus for his efforts.
After wrapping up the mission, Arthur returned to his base.
Despite limited training resources, he continued to enforce strict training regimens for his soldiers.
However, as the soldiers' levels increased, their progress began to slow noticeably.
In contrast, the three blacksmiths at the base were becoming more skilled by the day. Little Tyler, in particular, had reached the point where he could independently forge high-quality iron swords.
Arthur steadily built up his strength while taking on small tasks in the surrounding area, sending his spearmen out in rotations to gain experience.
Over time, their efforts paid off, and they began to make a name for themselves in Sentinel City's mercenary circles.
Now, the mercenaries in the city all knew about a rising team—reliable, skilled, and steadily growing in power.
The money kept flowing in, and their strength continued to grow.
Yet, Arthur couldn't shake a lingering sense of unease.
It was as if an invisible wall was closing in, limiting his growth.
He understood all too well that without land and population to support him, his ambitions would eventually hit a ceiling.
Take Baron Ashford's territory, for example. With only four or five thousand people in the entire domain, it was impossible to endlessly recruit soldiers.
The same was true for other noble territories. Randomly recruiting soldiers was almost unheard of.
Most freemen had their own land and livelihoods and wouldn't easily abandon them to become soldiers.
As for the landless serfs, they were entirely under the control of the nobility, with even their movements strictly regulated.
In this feudal society, land and population were the core means of production, and Arthur understood this better than anyone.
His enterprise might seem to be thriving, but in reality, it was tightly constrained by the rigid class structure of this world.
The only way to break free of these limitations was to overthrow the existing social order.
But Arthur also knew that challenging the authority of the nobility was tantamount to courting death.
For now, maintaining the status quo seemed like the safer choice.
After all, in the northern provinces, the price of a small manor was around 5,000 gold coins.
If he kept up his current pace, maybe in fifty years, he could save enough to buy one. For someone in this era, that would already be an impressive achievement.
Look at the Avington family—they've been doing pretty well over the years, and even they've only managed to acquire two small manors. That already makes them standouts among rural nobility.
By that logic, shouldn't Arthur feel satisfied?
Satisfied? What a joke!
How could Arthur possibly be satisfied with that?
He'd crossed into this world, armed with a cheat-like ability, only to scrape by for a lifetime?
And let's not forget, this world was full of uncertainties. Who could guarantee he'd even live to see fifty?
An accident, a war, or even a betrayal could end his journey prematurely.
This world offered him no sense of security. Unless… he could completely take control of his own fate.
Small-scale wars might provide some opportunities, but Arthur wasn't eager to dive into them recklessly.
The kingdom's political system was a classic dual monarchy—split between the king and the feudal lords.
The nobles who nominally swore allegiance to the king had certain obligations but enjoyed relative freedom.
On the other hand, vassals under the great lords had almost no political autonomy.
Your lord's stance was your stance. As long as your liege didn't rebel, you were practically bound to obey their every demand.
Even worse, the kingdom's core political resources were concentrated in the hands of the king.
Even if you were lucky enough to become a vassal of a great noble, your family's descendants would eventually be reduced to tools for their descendants.
Arthur understood this all too well. Rising through the ranks under a great noble wasn't just difficult—it came with endless restrictions.
The best path was to enter the royal capital and gain access to the kingdom's core resources.
But for Arthur, that path was almost a dead end.
The Ashford family was just a rural noble house. They had neither the political connections nor the influence to help Arthur secure a position in the royal administration.
Even if the family had such an opportunity, it wouldn't be his to claim.
It was a vicious cycle.
Unless… a large-scale war broke out.
Only through military achievements could Arthur earn a title directly from the king, putting him on the path to power and resources.
And what he was waiting for was precisely a war with the northern barbarians.
These barbarians, who had risen in the north, had taken advantage of the kingdom's fragmentation to seize vast territories.
As the kingdom gradually regained its strength, it was only a matter of time before a campaign to reclaim those lands began.
This was almost universally acknowledged by those with insight.
The problem was, this war could break out tomorrow—or it might not happen for another ten or twenty years.
Arthur once thought he could wait. But now, he realized… he didn't have the patience.
This restlessness wasn't without reason. The subtle, probing gazes around him were making his skin crawl.
A business with an annual profit of over 100 gold coins—especially one involving military supplies—was enough to make countless people envious.
Arthur knew very well that it was only his knightly title, the deterrence of the Ashford family's backing, and his own combat prowess that had kept those greedy eyes at bay for now.
But what if his business continued to grow?
Those covetous gazes would inevitably return. And the first to make a move might very well be his supposed benefactor—Baron Ashford.
Yes, family ties meant nothing in the face of family interests.
A business that could account for a significant portion of the family's income was enough to tempt any noble.
Arthur had no doubt about this.
He had underestimated the value of his blacksmiths and the power of the Data Panel.
In this era, smelting and forging techniques were incredibly valuable resources.
Most blacksmiths relied solely on intuition and experience to craft weapons, and high-quality weapons were often the result of sheer luck.
This scarcity made blacksmithing the core of a highly profitable industry, with the knowledge and techniques strictly guarded. Only a select few factions monopolized this field.
However, the Data Panel completely upended this reality.
It turned what was once a luck-dependent process into a guaranteed outcome. With enough time, any blacksmith could grow into a master craftsman. This kind of power was enough to drive anyone mad with envy.
Once Arthur realized this, he didn't dare to casually allocate more points into the system.
He knew that if this secret were exposed, he would become the target of everyone's greed.
Yet, the fire in his heart never dimmed.
He needed to find a place far from prying eyes, where he could fully unleash the potential of the Data Panel.
Arthur believed that if he could seize just one opportunity, he could quickly rise to prominence on the stage of history.
And now, his goal was becoming increasingly clear.