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Chapter 31 - Discussing trade (2)

"Wait until you taste what Elowen can truly offer."

Riku pulled out a cloth-covered tray from a nearby crate and set it down with a soft thump.

When he lifted the cloth, a rich aroma immediately filled the room — buttery, nutty, slightly sweet. Loaves of rustic bread, golden-brown and dusted with flour, rested neatly inside.

Rennan leaned forward, sniffing reflexively.

"Hmm, this bread smells better than all the inns I've passed in Luxia."

"Try it," Riku said, breaking off a small piece.

Gently, reverently, Rennan tore off a piece. The crust gave a soft crack, and a spiral of steam rose up.

He lifted it to his mouth and took a slow, careful bite.

The outside crunched softly. The inside — pillowy, light, yet rich — melted against his tongue with a subtle tang, a hint of sweetness.

Rennan closed his eyes.

And for one, fragile moment, he wasn't a dusty merchant haggling in sun-beaten streets.He was a boy again, standing barefoot in a kitchen filled with the smell of harvest, of his mother's laughter, of warmth that had no price.

Then he stopped.

Then he closed his eyes.

"By the flame spirits..." he whispered reverently.

He took another bite. And another.

"This isn't bread," he declared finally, voice thick with awe. "This is a delicacy straight from the heavens."

Riku chuckled. "Careful, the gods might get jealous."

Gnord snorted behind them.

Still savoring, Rennan shook his head. "You realize what you've made here? If this gets out, you'll ruin the entire bread industry with this."

"Good," Riku said, smiling slyly. "Because I have something even better."

Rennan blinked. "Better?"

Riku stepped aside and gestured toward a heavy chest tucked into the corner.A cool mist curled lazily from its slightly open lid.

Gnord, who had been watching from the shadows with a wide grin, nudged it forward with a boot.

Riku popped the latch.

A sharp hiss escaped, and a cloud of cold vapor spilled out, creeping across the floor in a soft, ghostly sheet.Inside, nestled like jewels on velvet, were bottles — glassy and glistening, each filled with vibrant, colorful liquid. Pale lemon, lush crimson, deep violet, bright gold.

Rennan crouched instinctively, staring into the mist like he'd found a treasure chest of legends.

"...You've built winter in a box," he breathed.

"Coolbox," Gnord said proudly, crossing his arms.

Riku picked out a bottle, twisted the cork free with a soft pop, and handed it to Rennan.Chill vapor slithered up around the bottle neck as if reluctant to leave.

Rennan raised it slowly.The glass was cold against his lips — and then he drank.

The lemon fizz burst across his tongue — cold, sweet, sharp as a mountain spring — followed by the warmth of honey that lingered like the afternoon sun.

He actually staggered a half-step back.

A low groan escaped his throat, half pleasure, half disbelief.

"...This isn't a drink," he muttered. "This is salvation in a bottle."

He took another, greedier gulp. Then another.

And then stood gasping slightly, clutching the bottle like he feared it would vanish if he blinked.

Riku laughed and passed him another flavor — strawberry-apple, then wild mint-citrus.

Each sip drew out a fresh look of rapture from the battle-hardened merchant.

Finally, Rennan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, panting slightly.

"You… you absolute madman," he said, laughing hoarsely. "What is this now?"

Riku leaned back casually.

"It is called a cold drink. It is a refreshment that I plan to sell to everyone. What do you think, will there be enough demand?"

"Demand?" Rennan barked a laugh. "Demand would bury you. The only problem would be keeping up."

He paused, but then his brow furrowed.

"One thing, though. That coolbox that you have, most people would not have access to that. The nobles still will have some mages who can use frost spells on these drinks, but for the others, it will be a challenge."

"Well, Gnord will take care of that. Just get us the materials to build the Coolbox frame, and Gnord will build the frame and the crank, and I will inscribe the frost runes." Riku smiled. 

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Soon, Gnord, Riku, Barou, and Rennan were sitting in another room, sipping chilled drinks and discussing future plans.

"You do know that there is a water shortage everywhere, right? How will we make so much to sell? And if I am not mistaken, there will only be overwhelming demand for all of your products, and never enough supply."

"I understand that there will be a high demand, and we will not be able to meet with our current supply production lines. However, that is where you come in."

"Me?" Rennan said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"Expand?" Gnord asked, scratching his head.

"We build full production lines," Riku said smoothly. "Separate facilities — one for bread, one for drinks, one for coolboxes. Packaging setups. Proper flour mills. We will have to set up buildings that are specialized to do that only."

Barou whistled softly. "That's not small."

"It's not," Riku agreed. "Which is why we need capital — and investors."

"But how do we get them?" Gnord asked with a questioning glance.

Riku said nothing and just smiled. However, Rennan, being a businessman, immediately caught on.

"You want outside nobles to invest?"

"Yes," Riku said. "But not just a donation or charity. It has to be a real stake — ownership of the profits proportional to their risk."

"And how would that work?" Barou asked, leaning in.

Riku smiled and picked up a stick of charcoal from a nearby shelf. On the wooden table, he quickly drew a circle, then split it into three clean parts.

"Forty percent," he said, tapping one section, "goes to Elowen. That funds our farms, our people, our maintenance. It will help us pay worker salaries, compensate farmers for producing the raw materials, and ensure that our own village progresses over time."

"Another forty percent," he tapped another, "goes to the investors — the nobles who provide funding for expansion. No risk, no reward, but those who are putting in their money should definitely see some returns. We can revisit this number later as required."

"And twenty percent," Riku said, tapping the final part, "goes to the distributor. Which would be you, Rennan. This should help you make a decent profit, being the middleman who brings the goods to the last mile."

Rennan sat very still for a moment, pondering Riku's words.

"That," Rennan said after some time, slapping the table with his hands. "Sounds like the best thing I've ever heard!"

 

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