"Everyone, perk up! We are building a mine tunnel that needs to last for decades. If anyone cuts corners, don't blame me for being impolite!"
With the comprehensive survey of the mining area completed, Valentine immediately began directing the craftsmen to reinforce the tunnels.
Black birch wood was cut into uniform beams, and workers carried the heavy materials into the shaft. A beam was securely fixed at every critical point of the tunnel, ensuring the stability of the entire structure. Carpenters used thick wooden wedges to strengthen each joint and coated the connection points with resin to guarantee long-term durability.
Valentine personally tapped each black birch beam with a mining hammer, inspecting their sturdiness.
Meanwhile, the first group of miners—comprised of slaves—had already assembled, bringing with them only the simplest protective tools. They stood silently, awaiting instructions.
Valentine nodded in approval. "Start with the most stable areas. Conduct small-scale excavation first and observe the condition of the magic marrow."
Upon receiving the order, the miners cautiously raised their picks and struck the rock wall. Chunks of ore began to fall.
Each time a pick struck, the purple veins in the rock emitted a soft glow, as though the dormant magical energy deep within the earth was awakening.
Soon, the first batch of ore was sent to Silco, the only Alchemist Apprentice in Red Tide Territory.
"Test the purity," Louis ordered simply.
Silco nodded, dropped a small piece of the magic marrow ore into a prepared test solution, and observed.
The liquid glowed faintly purple before magical fluctuations stirred the surrounding air. Then the color deepened rapidly, becoming a rich, dark purple—a symbol of exceptionally high purity.
"My Lord, the purity is even higher than expected!" Silco said, barely able to contain his excitement.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Louis's mouth. The tension in his heart finally eased.
…
Night had fallen. In the flickering candlelight of his study, Louis sat behind his desk, his eyes fixed on Bradley seated opposite him.
"I hope that the mining and processing of the ore will remain in Red Tide Territory, and the Calvin Family will handle sales," Louis said bluntly.
Bradley looked slightly surprised but then smiled meaningfully. "I understand."
Louis had calculated this carefully. He needed the Calvin Family's support and couldn't show signs of independence too early. Offering them tangible benefits would encourage continued investment.
Only by ensuring the family's interests were met could he secure more resources and protection—essentials for establishing a strong foothold in the harsh Northern wastelands.
Moreover, Louis knew he was no match for the Calvin Family when it came to controlling trade routes. Their network stretched across the empire and even included foreign markets. To replicate even a fraction of that reach would take years, if not decades.
Instead of wasting time on unfamiliar terrain, it was smarter to focus on consolidating power and generating income.
However, he was adamant that the processing technology remain under Red Tide Territory's control.
Should Duke Calvin die or internal family politics shift, he could lose access to sales channels. But as long as he maintained control over refining and processing techniques, even if cut off from the market, he could rebuild it on his own terms rather than be left at the mercy of others.
Bradley met his gaze with a knowing look but said nothing. He clearly understood Louis's intent but chose not to expose it.
"I'll draft the letter and report your decision to Duke Calvin," Bradley replied respectfully.
His job was to carry out duties, not interfere.
Then, Louis opened a heavy wooden box. Inside was a pile of shimmering gold coins—around 1,500 in total. The Calvin Family's resource package had included an additional 3,000 gold coins, which left Louis unexpectedly wealthy.
But gold, no matter how much, was useless if it couldn't be converted into tangible power.
And right now, Red Tide Territory needed people more than anything.
Louis closed the box, turned to Bradley, and said seriously, "I want to use these coins to buy slaves."
A hint of approval flickered in Bradley's eyes. "It seems you already have a clear plan."
Louis nodded. "Given our current food production and reserves, 1,500 people is the upper limit I can sustain."
He wasn't greedy. Bringing in more would overburden their infrastructure and destabilize the territory. He needed a manageable number.
Bradley replied, "Leave it to me."
For the Calvin Family's seasoned butler, this was a trivial task.
He merely wrote a letter.
Within days, slave owners from faraway lands arrived in Red Tide Territory, personally delivering groups of carefully selected slaves. Their behavior was unusually respectful—even deferential—especially when discussing prices. They were cautious, not wanting to offend Bradley.
Compared to the scruffy and mismatched group Louis had previously purchased from the black market, this new batch of slaves was of clearly superior quality.
The majority were robust laborers, with strong physiques and calloused hands—weathered by hardship but still mentally stable. Among them were also several marriageable female slaves, who would be vital for future population growth in the territory.
What surprised Louis the most was the cost.
After acquiring 1,500 high-quality slaves, he still had 700 gold coins left!
"It's much cheaper than I imagined," Louis said in amazement as he looked at the rows of sturdy slaves.
Bradley gave a faint smile. "Market prices aren't fixed. It depends on who the buyer is."
In other words, had someone else been making the purchase, even with the same amount of money, the quality and quantity of slaves they could obtain would be nowhere near what had just arrived.
All Bradley had done was write a single letter. Yet slave traders traveled thousands of miles and voluntarily offered top-tier stock at a discount.
Their attitudes were not born of fear, but respect—and a desire to secure long-term cooperation with the Calvin Family.
This was the power of an old butler from the Calvin Family.
It was terrifying.
This was more than just negotiation skill. It was a rule—a societal force embedded into the very fabric of the world.
Louis felt a surge of gratitude that he was part of the Calvin Family.
But he also understood something deeper: only by proving his own strength could he fully leverage this powerful asset.
Two months ago, he wouldn't have even gotten close to such influence.
A sudden thought struck Louis.
What if, one day, he could completely control that influence? What if he could make the full weight of the Calvin Family's power serve him?
How glorious that would be.
Suppressing this flash of ambition, Louis turned to Bradley and said earnestly, "You've worked hard this time."
Bradley simply nodded, his expression calm and composed as always. "It is my duty to serve you."
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