---

“Horoz’s proposal was simple.

Maintain the status quo.

Acknowledge everything he enjoys in the north.

“I wonder if ‘acknowledgment’ is the right term, Guild Master.”

“Perhaps ‘tolerance’ or ‘consent’ wouldn’t be out of place.”

The Palm Tree Trade Guild owns a significant portion of the northern black market.

Distribution networks, supply chains, relationships with merchants, brokerage rights, commissions, and so on.

The Dark Elves are a race that is born clutching gold and dies in a coffin fashioned from it. Before small-time criminal organizations were swept away by the Military Government Headquarters, the only group capable of a systematic smuggling operation in the north was Hormoz’s Palm Tree Trade Guild.

At least until Francesca intervened.

Hormoz wanted to maintain what he enjoyed.

“So, I propose this.”

In the starlit desert.

Inside the fragrant tent of the desert.

“Please allow me to maintain the businesses overseen by the Palm Tree Trade Guild in the north.”

Hormoz, the master of the Palm Tree Trade Guild, proposed.

“In return, I promise to provide continuous information while you remain in the north.”

—

Episode 12 – The Strongest Archmage

After a lengthy silence, the conversation resumed.

“…Hmm. I hear you clearly.”

Lightly breaking the ice, I reached out to smooth my hair for a moment.

Whether it was due to the space-transmutation magic or the frigid northern weather, the night air felt colder than I expected. After finishing refreshments, a meal, and shisha, the beads of sweat I had shed in front of the campfire were chilling in the breeze.

Wiping away the dried sweat and fixing my hair, I summarized Hormoz’s words.

“You wish to maintain the businesses conducted by the Palm Tree Trade Guild in the northern black market, the distribution and supply networks of the Guild, the relationships with the merchants, brokerage rights, commissions… In return for this, you hope to receive continuous information from us while you stay in the north. Is my understanding correct?”

“Precisely.”

Greedy, aren’t we?

Nodding quietly, pretending to ponder, Francesca sipped her coffee silently while Hormoz poured tea into his cup.

I found it amusing to watch Hormoz calmly sip his mint tea.

Francesca spoke up.

“That’s quite a mutually beneficial proposal, Guild Master.”

Mutual benefit refers to both parties exchanging special interests or conveniences. When both sides provide benefits to one another, we refer to that as a mutually beneficial relationship.

This term is frequently used in economics and diplomacy. Scholars explain that mutual benefit is closely tied to the principles of equality, while diplomats consider reciprocity as a fundamental principle of diplomacy.

If I treat others well, they will treat me well in return.

That’s exactly what diplomats mean by reciprocity, or mutualism.

From the perspective of a diplomat and information officer, I believed that reciprocity revealed its true value not in moments of goodwill but rather when the other side behaves wretchedly.

“Everything the Guild Master enjoys in the north holds significant value.”

Francesca set down her teacup and glanced around.

“The tent that can withstand the desert’s night is made from expensive silk imported from the east, and the distribution network that allows you to bring hometown delicacies from across the sea, not to mention the personnel assisting the Guild Master.”

Rare treasures lay scattered wherever her gaze fell.

Even the very place we were sitting was an example.

Space-transmutation magic is known only to the descendants of illustrious royal families and great mages. The war for independence left a tremendous scar on the magical community.

The death of a disciple like a child, the death of an exceptional mentor, the burning library, and the extinguished knowledge.

Magicians lost much through the wars, and the lineage that had endured for millennia was severed in the flames of conflict. That’s the reason magic has not surpassed science, and why the Magic Tower is treated as a fool in the international community.

No matter how wretchedly they behave, the reality for the Magic Tower is that they can’t say a peep when the Empire rolls in tanks.

Space-transmutation magic is the practical magic that was lost in that process and a legacy of a glorious past centered around great mages resisting oppression.

It possesses unparalleled value.

“Space-transmutation magic holds considerable worth by itself. If the one who created this magic had been one of the great mages, even showing any intent to sell this magic to someone in the lineage of great mages would have made them willing to sell their soul just to acquire it.”

“…….”

“Even if the creator wasn’t a great mage, if you brought it to the Magic Tower, the Oracle would surely step in to facilitate the trade. That’s how irreplaceable space-transmutation magic is. Guild Master, you weren’t unaware of this, were you?”

Hormoz nodded in agreement.

“That’s correct.”

“But you didn’t do that.”

Francesca continued.

“You, Guild Master, did not sell the space-transmutation magic. You turned down gold enough to build a colossal palace with magic stones, enough to take into the afterlife. Why is that?”

“Because it was a gift from a benefactor. It’s not right to sell something I’ve been given, is it?”

Thus spoke Hormoz, flashing a sweet smile. Had those words not come from a Dark Elf, I might have even applauded.

Hormoz was uttering something he didn’t mean, and everyone present knew it. Even Hormoz himself couldn’t hide that he was lying.

Francesca sipped her coffee, her gaze fixed on Hormoz.

“Everything the Guild Master currently possesses in the north, everything the Palm Tree Trade Guild owns, can be weighed in value. That means it can be converted into money.”

“Not necessarily. How can the relationship between merchants be exchanged for mere money?”

“If someone comes along who is willing to pay a higher price than you, would you not change merchants without batting an eye?”

Francesca smirked subtly. Her lips were smiling, but her gaze was still chillingly cold.

Despite her frigid stare, Hormoz continued to smile amiably.

“Even if the Guild Master thinks that way, I don’t mind. However, information is a different story.”

With a sharp sound, a piece of pottery was set down.

“Information is an abstract, intangible asset. I believe it would be an inappropriate price to settle with.”

“It’s true that information can’t be easily priced, but depending on its use, can’t it be more precious than gold?”

“That might be true. However, isn’t it also the case that information can’t be turned into money right away, or even used as toilet paper?”

For a moment, Francesca’s words struck a nerve in me.

“Hey, that’s a bit harsh….”

Even if that wasn’t aimed at me, as someone who survives on information, it was a remark I couldn’t easily shrug off.

But Francesca seemed oblivious to my feelings, just spouting her own words.

“Guild Master, negotiations and transactions are about exchanging equal value. Therefore, your proposal seems hard for us to accept.”

“…….”

Hormoz continued to look at Francesca with a smiling face. However, his golden eyes were piercing and cold.

Despite sitting around a campfire, one could feel the chilly air. This was the moment. This was the time.

“Alright.”

I pushed myself up from my half-reclined position to speak.

“It seems we have exchanged our positions adequately. Now, let me help mediate things.”

—

I slowly revisited each party’s stance.

First, Hormoz.

“Hormoz wants to maintain the status and businesses he enjoys in the north. He cautiously expressed concerns that the businesses may be suffering due to the recent cleansing operations conducted by the Military Government Headquarters against criminal organizations.”

What Hormoz seeks is ‘status quo.’ The Dark Elf wishes for everything he enjoyed yesterday to continue the same today and tomorrow.

Next, Francesca.

“You’re primarily interested in information, right?”

“Yes.”

What Francesca seeks is ‘information.’ Specifically, information on the merchant suspected of fleeing to the north after selling black magic to terrorists.

At this point, I recalled the fundamental reason both Hormoz and Francesca were here together.

Francesca needs to find the person who sold black magic. She herself is a direct victim of the terror, and due to Lucia’s involvement, the cult is on high alert.

The tricky part is that the Inquisition has caught wind of it. It’s crystal clear that black magic is tied to terror, meaning the primary suspects will inevitably be mages. And that creates a problem.

‘If mages are implicated in a terror incident that involves black magic, there’s no way the Inquisition will simply overlook this.’ Right now, with Petrus as the Inquisition Director, there are no immediate threats (the fact we weren’t publicized as present at the terror scene owes a great deal to Petrus). However, the moment the next Inquisition Director is appointed, it will be certain that the Inquisition will start digging into the terror incident.

To make matters worse, the next Pope is Raphael, who is also from the Inquisition. Once this fellow is appointed pope and the Inquisition changes hands, it will spell disaster for the Magic Tower.

In essence, the entire cult will fall under the control of radical factions.

It’s worth noting that Raphael’s ascension to the papacy coincides with Lucia’s canonization ceremony, which Petrus mentioned earlier. Basically, all our affairs in the north are set to wrap up by then.

If a suspect hasn’t been identified by that time, Raphael would certainly unleash fury on the Magic Tower. He will likely expose the fact that Lucia was attacked at the terror scene.

What follows will be anyone’s guess. There could be inquisitions on the streets as in the old days, people could start pelting mages with stones, or a crusade might be declared.

Whatever happens, it amounts to a calamity for the Magic Tower. Therefore, Francesca must find the bastard who sowed black magic before Raphael becomes the Pope. Even though she may despise the Magic Tower and Patalia, she remains a mage herself.

In a nutshell, Francesca has witnessed smoke rising from a mountain. She must find the spark before the mountain called the Magic Tower burns to the ground.

Conversely, Hormoz’s stance was slightly different.

“…….”

Hormoz truly seemed caught off guard.

He had been raking in money by doing business with small-time criminals in the north when suddenly soldiers stormed in, trampling over his stall and setting adjacent shops ablaze.

In normal circumstances, the media would have been in an uproar, but unfortunately, this was a time of martial law.

Moreover, Hormoz is not just any merchant; he’s a foreign black market trader, not a regular businessman paying taxes.

Would the ones firing bullets at citizens let a foreigner off the hook? I can’t say for sure. However, I have yet to see bullets respect age, race, or gender. Even an elf wouldn’t escape a bullet’s path.

Thus, Hormoz has every right to be terrified. He has no idea when the Imperial Army might burst in. He might potentially lose both his wealth and his life for the sake of a single coin.

Yet, abandoning business and retreating is out of the question. Nomads are sensitive to honor, and Dark Elves are alert to profit and loss; being branded a coward for fleeing with losses is something Hormoz would carry for the rest of his life.

I will follow the Palm Tree Trade Guild.

In that case, it might as well be better to die. I bet Hormoz is thinking the same thing.

In other words, Hormoz is in a situation where the fire is at his feet. If he doesn’t extinguish it before it burns his entire body, all that will be left is a fall.

“…Hmm.”

Of course, all of this leaves out the positions of Hormoz’s backers that connect the Northern Black Market and the Mauritania Continent, the Military Government Headquarters that has no plans to eradicate crime organizations for the time being, and numerous stakeholders including the Abas Information Agency that supports me.

But that’s something I shouldn’t worry about.

Right now, there’s only one thing that’s important.

After pretending to be lost in thought for around four seconds, I pointed at Francesca and Hormoz and said, “Let me ask you both just one thing. Hormoz, do you have anything else to offer besides information?”

“If our guild has the capacity, and if I can acquire it, I can propose anything.”

The Dark Elf discussed business.

“The Dark Elves don’t engage in losing trades. When it comes to matters involving money, we Dark Elves are just as good at upholding contracts as Dragons or Dwarfs.”

“Do you have anything to say to the Administrator?”

“I do.”

Nodding, Hormoz raised his teacup.

“Before the Military Government Headquarters intervenes.”

And then he casually continued, “My guild’s employees say that they saw Magicians here who appeared in the black market for the first time. All of them were unidentifiable but commonly came to sell items. I am convinced that those people were Magicians from the Magic Tower.”

“…….”

“Am I wrong?”

Francesca neither affirmed nor denied it. Whether that was an answer or not, Hormoz finally exhaled a light breath and set down his teacup.

He opened his mouth in a rather serious tone.

“The black market is one of the businesses I’m focused on. If you don’t back down, negotiations are impossible.”

Hormoz was aware that the Magicians from the Magic Tower had been frequenting the black market. He also knew that Francesca had sent them. Since it was meant to be noticed, there was no need to hide it. Up until this point, everything was as expected.

However, there was one thing that irked me about Hormoz’s firm stance.

“You’re focusing on the black market here? You, Hormoz?”

Hormoz mentioned he was focusing on the black market. And he clearly stated that ‘he,’ not the ‘Palm Tree Trade Guild,’ was the one doing so.

It was a subtle difference, but I sensed something in that part. Something hard to explain in words. Yeah, this might be an instinctual feeling.

The benefactor who saved my life, the transaction exchanged for space-transformation magic that could not be bought for any amount of money, the guild master who’s needlessly sticking around in the dangerous Northern Regions, the Northern Black Market, Hormoz’s backers….

Just as my thoughts continued, Hormoz opened his mouth.

“It’s a contract. A few years ago, I made a contract with someone I serve. Thanks to that, I was able to operate a business in the Northern Black Market for a while.”

“…….”

Hormoz made a contract with someone. That someone was probably his backer.

The one who is allowing or actively helping him engage in activities in the Northern Black Market now. In return, Hormoz must be paying some sort of price. Contracts are formed on the basis of give and take.

I felt something vague yet unclear. The information was lacking.

Instead of asking Hormoz for detailed information, I decided to store this in my head and move on. If I dug deeper here, I felt like this guy would suspect me and wouldn’t share anything.

The essence of conversation is to do it without letting the opponent know what you’ve taken.

“I see. I’ve heard Hormoz’s position clearly. Administrator?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know anything about the Magicians from the Magic Tower operating in the Northern Black Market?”

“Hmm, not really?”

I flicked my fingers dismissively.

“Is there a way for you to try to catch those Magicians?”

“I can prohibit access to the black market, but I don’t have the capacity to control individual deviations. We can’t control everything.”

Francesca took the lead in setting the tone.

She classified the Magicians’ illicit trade as individual deviations. At the same time, she also mentioned it was impossible to clamp down on them.

While that’s what she said, she in fact made it very clear that she has no plans to withdraw from the Northern Black Market. From the very beginning, Hormoz guessed that Francesca was behind the Magicians, and Francesca didn’t even feign denial.

At this point, I grasped the crux of all the issues surrounding this meeting.

“So in the end, the black market is the problem.”

The black market.

Hormoz’s core interest and my weapon.

Hormoz refrained from providing information, fearing it might hurt his business, and I drew the Military Government Headquarters and Victor into causing chaos in the black market. With Francesca leading the way.

And today, Hormoz had no intention of giving up the black market.

I turned my head to look at Francesca.

“Administrator, don’t you have any plans to back down?”

She answered me.

“Absolutely not.”

That was all.

A short but clear response.

*

As the negotiations hit a snag, the atmosphere became heated. It was becoming increasingly evident that the conversation was getting frantic.

A break was needed. Just as that thought crossed my mind, a suggestion came from the Palm Tree Trade Guild to take a brief recess.

To be precise, it was the Deputy Guild Master of the Palm Tree Trade Guild who proposed it.

“Thank you for accepting our suggestion. I apologize for any inconvenience caused to you, guests.”

The neatly-dressed Goblin bowed deeply to express his apologies as soon as he bent his waist.

As he bowed, I waved my hands dismissively and said to the Goblin, “There’s no need for the Deputy Guild Master to apologize.”

“No, this is not only my personal apology, but also one from the owner of the Palm Tree Trade Guild, Hormoz, who welcomed you as guests today.”

Following the proposal of the Deputy Guild Master, we and Hormoz decided to take a break.

Though it was called a break, it was essentially a tactical timeout. By now, Hormoz was probably deep in thought, contemplating what proposal would be favorable.

We were no different.

The Goblin courteously showed us to another room.

“Please follow me. I will guide you to the room.”

The room was very spacious and cozy. No, to be accurate, it wasn’t even a room. It was a whole tent.

The cream-colored rectangular tent, reminiscent of a yurt, was pitched high.

Soft carpets covered the floor seamlessly, and a hearth sat in the middle. Was it boiling tea? A faint aroma floated around the tent.

I grabbed a pile of cushions stacked high in the tent, wedged one under my arm, and plopped down on the carpet.

“Ah, this is comfy.”

“…….”

Francesca shot me a disapproving glare.

“What are you doing? Don’t just stand there, sit down.”

“I’m not in the mood to rest right now, Colonel. Do you want to take a break here?”

“You are the guests.”

Hormoz welcomed us in the capacity of a host. We are Hormoz’s guests, and according to long-standing traditions and customs, he cannot harm us in any way.

Protecting guests is the host’s duty. Even if that guest is an enemy or a fugitive.

If someone tries to harm a guest, the host has to protect that guest from outside enemies. That’s the obligation of a host. Unless they completely turn them away, once they accept a guest, they are a guest. Of course, guests must not harm or disrespect the host.

“So sit down. We can’t talk while standing.”

“Ugh….”

Francesca sat facing me from across.

I tilted the teapot emitting white steam to fill my cup and took a whiff.

Hmm. The scent was exactly jasmine tea. Not bad. Sipping the normal tea without an awful mint flavor, I casually asked Francesca a question.

“Are you really not planning to withdraw from the black market?”

“Right.”

Francesca was firm. It was a consistent answer.

I didn’t even look at Francesca and continued sipping tea, throwing more questions.

“If you withdraw from the black market now, they say they’ll provide the information you want and keep bringing it to you?”

“That wouldn’t make any sense.”

Francesca started calculating.

“Receiving information while leaving the Palm Tree Trade Guild doesn’t bring any benefit.”

“But initially, we weren’t supposed to receive any money, right?”

At first, Hormoz had offered an ambiguous answer saying he could sell one piece of information or maybe not. And now Hormoz promised that if only one proposal was accepted, he would provide continuous information.

It’s an attractive offer.

Not just one piece of information, but multiple pieces. And there’s no specific price to pay. Just letting Hormoz continue playing the tiger would suffice.

After all, the Military Government Headquarters has no plans for an eradication operation. Hormoz just doesn’t know that.

So it’s good for us. Information will keep rolling in just by sitting still.

I hinted at that fact and carefully pressed Francesca.

“We have nothing to lose.”

“Why do you think there’s nothing to lose?”

Francesca asked. When I looked up, she was reclining in her seat, gazing at me.

As a pair of violet eyes look at me, Francesca’s lips curved into a smile.

“If we just carry on like this and the negotiations fall apart, resulting in a clash with the guild master, then according to plan, we can push the Palm Tree Trade Guild out and take both the money and information.”

Francesca smiled brightly.

“That would be a loss. Money and information. I could get everything I want, but I’d have to give up one, right?”

“…….”

“I want both.”

“You’re quite greedy.”

I quietly chuckled and tilted my teacup.

After taking a sip of jasmine tea, I carefully set the teacup down and took out a cigarette. I don’t know how he knew, but it seems Hormoz was already aware that I was a smoker. There was even an ashtray ready for me, not just a hookah.

After bringing the ashtray forward, I pondered deeply while biting down on the Imperial tobacco.

And so, silence fell.

“…….”

“…….”

Amidst the subtle sound of bubbling tea, the silence was broken when the ashtray was half-full and the cigarette in my hand burned down to almost nothing, leaving only the filter.

“…What are you thinking about, Colonel?”

“I was just… pondering what I should say later.”

“What kind of proposal were you thinking that requires so much contemplation? Were you always this much of a thinker?”

Well, whether I think a lot or not, I know one thing for sure.

I stood up, extinguishing the cigarette in the ashtray.

“I’m thinking of a way to satisfy both Francesca and Hormoz.”

 

---