Chapter 142: Chapter 139: Currency Concerns

 

 

Lady Vanu Runa Lysha sets down a book of military strategems and tactics as a knock comes from her door.

“Enter,” she says and turns to face the door as her butler walks in with one of the guards.

“Lady Lysha, your father requests your presence,” the butler says. “He received an urgent message from Headmaster Vulpun of the Order of Flames.”

“Thank you, Hanthe,” Lysha replies, before standing up from her desk and following the butler out to the meeting room. She enters the room, and her father motions to take a seat next to him at a table. Paper and ink sit neatly before him, along with a letter.

“Sit, Lysha,” he says, smiling at her. “Fortune favors us today.”

Lysha sits next to her father and glances at the letter.

“Vulpun found the spy,” he says after a few moments.

Lysha looks up at him, surprised.

“Who is it? Who do they work for?” she almost blurted the words out, but her etiquette training caught her just in time to speak at a more sedate pace.

“That’s the difficult thing; she isn’t from these lands.” Lysha scrunches her eyebrows in confusion, but before she can ask what he means, he continues. “Archmage Ruluna thinks she’s from our ancestors’ homeland. In any case, Vulpun says we need to secure their goodwill—”

“Goodwill? They spied on us!” Lysha interrupts.

He raises a hand to stop her.

“Vulpun will be here shortly to give us more details, but his letter says that with the Forren Kingdom amassing their armies, we cannot afford to pass this opportunity up. If what he is saying is true, then there’s a lot more to this story than we know; let him speak before objecting.”

Lysha waits, but she passes the time by reading the letter.

To Governor Vanu Runa Orlan:

You’ll have to forgive me for skipping the usual greeting, but something major has happened today, and this is very urgent. I dare not risk sensitive information with this letter, but we have found the person we’ve been looking for; however, they are not hostile that we know of. Ruluna thinks they are from the ancestors’ homeland, but that has yet to be confirmed.

They look Lunlaleyan but are clearly different; you’ll have to see for yourself. They are clearly politically-minded, they tread carefully and they may be taking advantage of our unfortunate situation, but now what they have to offer is too enticing, and we need to secure their goodwill.

I will be over as soon as my preparations are done to discuss this in further detail and with more security.

From Headmaster Valana Vulpun

“Do you see now?” her father asks. “This is as much a surprise for him as it is us; it is a very recent event and the fact that he can confirm that the spy looks different means that she is in their... hospitality.”

So the spy is here, showed up in person, which means she is confident they won’t arrest her.

“What do they want?” Lysha asks.

“We’ll see soon,” her father replies.

Just then, Headmaster Vulpun arrives and sits down at the table opposite them. Her father dismisses the guards. The guards close the door as they leave, and her father activates the sound barrier device sitting next to the stack of papers.

“No one will hear us now,” her father declares. “So, what is so urgent?”

“Good,” Vulpun says and slides his storage ring across the table. “There’s only two items; take a look.”

The fact that Vulpun didn’t take the items out himself means that there are weapons in it; meeting with high-ranking people and suddenly conjuring weapons is a good way to get oneself killed.

Her father takes the ring and summons out an orb and a sword sheathed in some unknown metal. Lysha [Analyzes] them and gasps at the power of the enchantments.

“I see,” her father says quietly as he examines the blade of the sword, half drawing it out from its scabbard. The blade almost seems to ignite the air from the sheer heat it puts off, but the icy scabbard keeps the heat in.

The message is clear now. Whoever these people are, they can make some powerful weapons, which means they can make even more powerful weapons and armor from the Leviathan materials.

“So this is what you mean when you say we need to secure their goodwill,” her father says. “We need to make sure they don’t deal with the Forren Kingdom.” He sighs and looks at Vulpun. “I’d like to meet her as soon as I can.”

“I knew you would, so I brought her along with me. She’s currently waiting in the guest room, but first, there’s something I need to discuss with you about her.”

“Speak.” Her father nods.

“First, she is operating through an illusion.”

“So, that’s what you mean by ‘they tread carefully’.”

“Yes. Second, she didn’t know our language and was... studying our culture before, to learn our customs and social hierarchy,” Vulpun says, not directly saying that she was spying, which indicates that he is paraphrasing the spy.

“How’d she learn our language?” Lysha asks.

“Ruluna’s efforts,” Vulpun says. “We’ve actually been communicating with her for a while now, but she showed up in person today.”

“And you never told us?!” Lysha raises her voice, anger boiling up at being left out of important events.

“Calm yourself, Lysha,” her father says, placing a hand on her shoulder. “This is a part of gathering intel; often, they have to weed out lies, misdirection, and motives before giving us accurate information.”

Vulpun nods. “Indeed, which makes her presence more pressing, as we can’t take measures to verify her supposed good intentions. Even now, we can’t be sure if she is not already in talks with the Forren Kingdom, and who knows what else.”

Lysha sits back down, her anger quickly dying.

“We still aren’t sure of her motives,” Vulpun says. “But we can be sure she is trying to secure good deals for her people.”

“What about invasion? What are the risks of that?” Lysha asks.

“I... don’t think they will do that. They already have intel on us, but to what extent we still need to make sure. If they were planning that, I don’t think she would have responded to our attempt to contact her. I think they are more interested in trade deals, but I don’t know what they want.”

“Let us meet her; we shouldn’t speculate too much,” Lysha’s father finally speaks after almost a minute of silent contemplation.

He disables the sound barrier device and orders the butler to bring in the guest. Vulpun joins their side since it will be the three of them making a deal with the spy.

Lysha doesn’t know what to expect. Apparently, the spy looks different, but she doesn’t know how different. Really, she knows almost nothing, which is not the ideal way to meet someone. Usually she’d want to know what the other person is like, what their personality is like, and what may anger them; every bit of knowledge can have strategic applications.

It unsettles her that they have to meet on such unfavorable terms; at least, she’d like to wait a few days and study her opponent, but that isn’t an option.

The butler walks in with the most beautiful girl Lysha has ever seen. She’s far younger than Lysha expected, but she remembers that this is supposed to be a mere illusion; perhaps the real spy is far older. Her dress is in the same style as what Lysha herself is wearing, but is matched to her appearance and decorated perfectly, such that it makes her look wealthy and powerful without being even the least bit gaudy.

Her blue hair is rare in Vocana, the Republic’s territory. Oddly the tips of her hair are golden in color, which suggests a racial evolution at some point in her life. It’s uncommon, but widespread enough, for hair color to change during evolutions; even extreme changes can happen like how Ruluna’s hair burns with literal fire that she can control.

The things that catch her attention most, however, are her accessories: simple eyewraps covering her eyes, a diadem and necklace, bracelets and a hair ornament, as well as rings on her fingers. They look too purposeful to be mere jewelry, and she guesses that at least half of them are magic items. But why fake that? If anything, she should have an illusion without any of those, unless...

Lysha smiles, realizing that the illusion in front of her has some limits, although the extent of those limits is something she still needs to figure out. She can definitely say that it is some sort of skill, but that may suggest the girl really is as old as she looks… or maybe she found a way to either deny time or reverse it?

The letter is right in that this girl looks generally Lunaleyan, but her three tails as long as she is tall and her large ears show she is not from these lands. The size of her bust is… impressive for her age, which has Lysha whispering thanks to Venaro for her father’s wisdom in involving her with the meeting. His weakness to beautiful women is a known trait of his, and she can tell that he is somewhat distracted, although his trained expression hides it well.

“Greetings.” The girl curtsies, the gesture perfectly elegant, as if she’s been doing it her whole life. “I am Alysara.”

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Lysha stands and returns the gesture, trying her best to not feel gangly and awkward by comparison.

How the hell does she make it look so easy?!

Every movement oozes grace, elegance, and serenity, the epitome of the perfect highborn lady. Lysha can’t help but feel inadequate in her presence, which pisses her off!

“Allow me to give you gifts, to compensate for any past aggressions I may have committed inadvertently and to celebrate the hopeful beginning of relations between our two peoples,” Alysara says.

The mention in the letter of Alysara being ‘politically-minded’ makes sense now: the phrasing of that statement means that if the gifts are accepted, then she is pardoned of any crime she may have committed.

The first thing Alysara lays on the table – and how exactly she is carrying a clearly very real storage ring with what is ostensibly an illusory body is a question Lysha decides not to think about just yet – is a beautiful dress made of mana silk. Magma-esque marbled red and ashen grey make up the majority of the colors, and gold lines the trims, standing out against the darker majority.

The second gift is a metallic belt that looks to be made from the night sky itself, being nearly pure black with decorative gems like multicolored stars.

Dress of Volcanic Gold (Enchanted):
This dress was made by a master mana craftsman. It enhances gold spells and gold manipulation by 150%, repels water, and keeps its wearer warm in cold climates. Further, this dress will reshape itself to fit the wearer.

Belt of the Golden Knight (Enchanted):
This belt was made by a master mana craftsman. It stores the Armor of the Golden Knight.

While the dress is beautiful and damn near perfect, a piece that should increase her popularity, the belt intrigues her even more, on a technical level. It’s a storage item, but it can only store the armor?

Lysha’s father stands up and puts on the belt; suddenly, a golden full-plate armor set with a fully sealed helmet appears around him. Its craftsmanship leaves no gaps in the armor, covering them with smaller plates in a way Lysha can only assume is possible with a form of [Gold Manipulation]. The helmet is shaped like a Forron’s head and has green and white accents, while the armor is engraved with decorative ice-and-fire patterns and has their House emblem engraved into the chest-piece.

Armor of the Golden Knight (Enchanted):

This armor was made by a master mana craftsman. Enhances gold spells by 200%, draws in and purifies air, regulates temperature and filters light through the helmet.

In another moment, the armor vanishes, leaving only the belt behind.

“We accept your gifts,” Lysha’s father says, putting the belt back on the table and sitting back down, while Lysha considers the fact that both of those items were clearly made for her and her father personally, evident in their perfect fit.

 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

It was a happy little accident that I put the belt in the storage ring; I simply wasn’t thinking about the incompatibility of putting a storage item inside another, which; normally results in the destruction of both. However, the belt isn’t really a storage item: it functions like a mana battery, storing the mana that the armor is made of. It does, maybe, have a little bit of space enchantment to actually fit all of the mana, but expanding space and creating a little pocket space are technically two different things, and apparently that’s a technicality I can exploit.

Vanu Runa Orlan’s eyes are constantly drifting to my chest, making me feel rather self-conscious, but to be fair, he seems to be trying to control himself. I am trying to help as best as I can by keeping a calming, serene pose and tone of voice rather than my usual graceful and elegant one.

“We would like to establish a trade deal,” Orlan says, once they’ve finished poking at the dress and the belt.

Normally I would ask to wait; after all, I’ve been here for less than a day and would need to experience the city. However, I’ve already studied this city and what these people have to offer. But that’s not the biggest hurdle; what is, is the Runalymo culture. We just make what we want, so pottery, furniture, and other arts and craftsmanship are off the table as far as our import options go.

What we will want, however, is livestock, spices, and other foodstuffs as well as monster materials; things we can’t obtain on our own for whatever reasons. However, I’ll leave that to Guklaro and Tusile to work out: my primary mission is not to trade for stuff, but rather to open favorable trade routes and let the market decide what it wants later.

There are other issues, however, that can and should be addressed more immediately, the first of which is the difference in currencies – we use cut Domr pearls, while they use traditional gold, silver, and copper – and the second of which is tariffs. These things must be ironed out before trade can happen.

First things first, I need to figure out the value of Runalymo money. Just saying that it’s worth a lot does not make it so; the value is the fact that it’s a monster material and can be used in the making of jewelry. It is for this reason that I had Dad, with Tusile’s permission, make the best coins she could to show to these people.

In order to get the best deal, we need our money to be more valuable than theirs; fortunately, we normally don’t want for gold as much as other places. Its primary use for us is in jewelry, although the one thing that throws a wrench in this idea is that true gold – gold saturated with gold essence – is very rare, and, due to the Vanu family being Bonded to gold essence they can mass-produce the stuff. I can, too, so that helps, but my time and abilities are better spent elsewhere.

“First,” I say, conjuring a single coin of each type and arranging them from least valuable to most valuable. “Let’s talk about these.”

Being monster materials, they have effects that make each coin somewhat unique; unfortunately, the materials are from Minor-tier monsters, so they aren’t worth much, but I’ve hunted down the strongest Domrs I can find to get the best-value ones for Dad to make into coins.

“This is our form of currency; these on the left are the lowest and on the right are the highest value.” I explain the value of each relative to the others, but I don’t give any examples as to what goods they can buy.

According to my research, the fire and water coins should be worth around two copper, going by what kind of goods they can buy. This means the ice and earth coins are worth ten copper. The benefit of using metals, which is unavailable in our system, is that one can control the value of the coins by changing the purity of the metal they’re made from, so these people have a hundred-to-one ratio at each step of their currency: one hundred copper is one silver, one hundred silver is one gold. So our lightning and wind coins will be worth seventy copper, and light and dark coins are worth seven silver. Beauty and creativity coins are worth seventy gold.

However, extrapolating value from the lowest valued coin is not accurate; if I were to extrapolate value from a wind by basing it on what it can buy from my village, then it’d be worth two silver instead of seventy copper, which will make ice coins worth twenty-eight copper instead of ten and fire coins will be worth five copper instead of two.

Trading across different value coins is a very messy affair, just like politics.

My goal is to make this deal better for us; if the value of our coins in their people’s eyes is worth more than the established base, then our currency will be able to buy more.

The three sitting across from me glance at each other, understanding the situation. They will try to get the best deal they can by claiming our coins are less valuable.

Orlan and Vulpun each take a coin to examine.

“Monster materials,” Vulpun says. “Low tier, but the craftsmanship is some of the best I’ve seen. It’s been properly minted with the correct skills too.”

The skill [Mint Currency] has the ability to mark a coin – or whatever is used for currency – as legit and legal money of the place it was made. There’s way more to it, but the details are kept secret for obvious reasons.

“If I were in your nation, what could I expect to buy with this?” Orlan asks, holding a wind coin.

This marks the beginning of a very long discussion about the value of coins, and I find myself juggling roles between a merchant, diplomat, and politician, giving [Acting] quite the workout and making it very hard mentally; this is a task made for multiple minds. Usually, a diplomatic delegation would be made of multiple people who specialize or are trained in these facets. I have to improvise and dedicate three minds to this task, each taking their respective role and acting as advisors to a speaking mind which takes the information from the three other minds and compiles them into what I hope is a good argument.

"Let's move on to trade routes." Orlan changes the subject. "I can only speak for my city, I do not have power over the others, so you will need to make a deal with them individually. I can, however, introduce you to them as a favor." Orlan’s eyes continually drift down to my chest for a second until he catches himself each time. [Acting] keeps my face straight and my nerves in check.

"I'm sure they'd be more than interested once word gets around," I say, [Acting's] instinct telling me that it's best for others to come to me as it means I have an upper hand in trade discussions.

"Right." Orlan says, his eyes wandering to my tails this time. "Anyway, I propose tariffs should be half of what's normal, considering the vast distance there is to travel, which would make it fifteen percent."

"Tar...iffs?" I tilt my head in confusion, switching [Acting] roles. I am purposely playing dumb, but the only reason I know of them is because of my past life. Runalymo society does not have any taxes of any kind: rather, the village runs a business for its funding, selling goods to either its own people or to other villages depending on how available or exclusive their goods are.

A moment of silence falls over the meeting room as Orlan, Lysha, and Vulpun glance at each other.

"Yes, tariffs," Vulpun clarifies. "You know, the tax on the importation of goods."

"I am unfamiliar with that concept," I say, keeping my act up. 

This leads to a small discussion on what taxes are, and me nodding like it's a brand new thing to me.

"We don't have such systems," I say, reverting to a political persona. "Our government funds themselves through business ventures. I don't think many of our people will be interested in trade if their goods are... taken to fund your government." I repress my urge to call it theft, that would not be diplomatic.

"Besides," I continue, quickly letting a mind with a merchant role take over "Tariffs sounds like a bad economic idea anyway. Merchants will just pass the tax on to the people in the form of increased prices, so it just makes things harder for people in the end."

Anyone selling goods doesn't really pay taxes if they can avoid it, they just push it onto their customers, which effectively means it's a tax on the people. The government wins, in the short term at least, but the people lose. This is just a case where it's good for politics, but bad for the economy.

"What would you suggest then?" Orlan asks, rather dubiously.

"No tariff, of course; it only dissuades our people from trading with yours, and it makes your people poorer." 

"With recent events, we need funding; this is just how our government operates, I'm sure you understand," Orlan says, giving Lysha a small nod.

"Our borders are under threat," she picks up the thread of conversation. “For our safety, we need the funds this trade will bring us. The lowest we can afford is a twelve percent tariff."

I am a little over my head: they are adamant about this tariff, but one I don't want the elders getting ideas, and two, our people just won't accept it.

“I think we should take a break to consider our options, and resume discussions tomorrow.” I curtsy and walk out, not making any particular effort to hide my displeasure with the topic. Meanwhile, back home, I am heading over to Temple Island to consult Tusile on how to proceed.

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