Drenched in sweat, Henry felt refreshed and invigorated as he and Bain began to wash up.
A sharp-tasting tooth powder, soap for washing the body, and a perfume that lifted the spirits... God only knew how many new novelties maritime trade and desert caravans had brought.
Thankfully, Henry had no intention of becoming an inventor, or he would have been utterly crushed.
He wouldn't be able to protect such things.
And if he *did* have the power to protect them, he could just wait for others to do the inventing.
'What's an Overlord doing inventing things, anyway?'
After the breakfast provided by Count John, Henry changed his clothes, donning an imperial robe and his family crest.
At eight o'clock in the morning, Henry brought Bain to the Imperial Office, where he formally signed the contracts with the merchants, with imperial officials as witnesses.
Yes, this massive organization, with branches in every city across the Empire, was simply called the Imperial Office... Such a simple name for the most formidable institution in the Empire!
The Imperial Office could handle almost anything: business partnerships, real estate transactions, land transfers, mail delivery across the entire Empire, and even tax audits and banking services.
When Henry was in the Royal Capital, an official from the Imperial Office had even tried to sell him investment products.
These lesser merchants had arrived much earlier than Henry, because for them, this partnership was a chance to finally turn their fortunes around.
These dozen or so merchants were all small-time proprietors, their businesses neither flourishing nor failing.
Individually, their trade networks were small, but their combined strength was enough to contend with the heads of the major merchant guilds.
The nobles who had been on the border for years were not their targets. As a newcomer, Henry's investment potential was far greater than that of Baron Sura, Baron Nurulan, and the others.
Those men were now exiled nobles!
Though they had all lost their fiefs, the circumstances were completely different.
One was a pack of defeated dogs, run off their lands after years of mismanagement, while the other was a new noble from a foreign land, his potential yet unknown.
One was the lingering light of a setting sun; the other, a blazing, rising sun!
After signing the contracts, Henry smiled at the dozen or so merchants. "A pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen. I hope we'll have many more opportunities to work together in the future. Long live our friendship."
The merchants all echoed his sentiment, looking forward to further cooperation. Afterward, Henry and Bain left the Imperial Office.
"Harry, do you think our trade with Knight Henry will go smoothly?"
"Bern, we've already received the deposit. At the very least, we won't lose money on this deal. Don't overthink it.
If you ask me, Knight Henry is even more invested in this major partnership than we are. He's an ambitious man."
Harry and Bern were the two most important of the dozen-plus merchants who had signed contracts with Henry.
Harry traded in weapons, and Bern in grain.
As merchants dealing in traditional commodities, they were in one of the most fiercely competitive fields. Every partnership and investment was like walking on a knife's edge; a single misstep meant losing everything.
The old leviathans of commerce would devour them without a trace.
To get ahead, to carve out a larger slice of the pie in a limited marketplace, they needed an opportunity. And Henry was that opportunity!
"Over eighty-seven hundred Dinars... eight hundred and seventy thousand Su. That's enough for three thousand people to live on for a year. Our new partner is about to make a name for himself on the eastern frontier."
Bern nodded. This Knight Henry's wealth was almost absurd. That much in liquid assets would be a crippling blow even for some wealthy barons.
Meanwhile, Henry and Bain were on their way back to the Earl's Mansion. Bain was puzzled by Henry's slow, aimless sauntering; Henry wasn't one to do things without a purpose.
"My Lord, are you looking for something?"
Henry smiled and shook his head. "I'm waiting for a strong wind to blow some money my way."
Bain was confused. Henry had just paid a deposit of over eighty-seven hundred Dinars—his entire fortune. 'Could it be... has spending so much so suddenly driven him mad with excitement?'
'Money blown in by the wind? What kind of wind would that have to be?' Bain sighed softly. If Henry had truly gone mad, he could only protect him with his Riding Spear. It was all he knew.
Bain had little formal education and could barely read. As an Attendant, he had focused single-mindedly on mastering the blade, determined that no harm would ever come to Henry on his watch.
'He couldn't understand why Henry would spend his entire savings—over eighty-seven hundred Dinars. The monthly pay for the highest-paid Elite Armored Cavalry in the Imperial Legion was only twelve hundred Su—or one hundred twenty silver, which was just twelve Dinars.'
'Perhaps when Henry went bankrupt and they were living on the streets, he could take him begging? He had some experience with that, at least. He wouldn't let Henry starve.'
Just as Bain's thoughts were running wild, a richly attired middle-aged man stepped in front of Henry.
It was a typical merchant's robe woven from silk, a garment that both distinguished him from the commoners in their cloth, Linen Clothing, and leather, and displayed his own affluence.
It also did so without offending the nobility by being too "presumptuous." After all, the imperial robes, made of silk from the southern trade routes, could only be worn by nobles.
At the very least, you had to be a member of the court's Sword Nobility, or a Knight.
In a flash, Bain moved between them, drawing his sword on the man who had blocked their path.
"Greetings, Knight Henry. Please forgive my intrusion."
Henry smiled and nodded. "Hello. I trust you haven't stopped me just for idle chitchat."
Bain sheathed his sword and stepped to the side, his eyes fixed on the middle-aged man. 'Damn it,' he thought, 'why can't these people hail us from a distance?'
The middle-aged man stepped aside and said respectfully, "Knight Henry, my master would like to discuss a business deal with you. However, for certain reasons, he hopes you might speak with him at the Opera House...
I hope you understand, Knight Henry. My master's position is sensitive, and he cannot meet you in person right now, as it would cause unnecessary complications."
Henry nodded and followed the man toward the Opera House.
Bain leaned close to Henry and whispered, "My Lord, is this the money delivery?"
"It would seem so."
"That's wonderful! I was starting to think we were going bankrupt."
Henry glanced at Bain and said, "We might even be able to trade that Traveling Horse of yours for a proper warhorse today."
Upon hearing this, Bain's eyes instantly lit up. 'A warhorse? A warhorse!'
The Empire wasn't as short on horses as it had been centuries ago. The eastern steppes, western plains, and southern deserts had allowed the Empire's horse population to multiply, and Cavalry was no longer exclusively the domain of the nobility.
However, a fine warhorse, especially the tall, powerful chargers favored by the nobility, still commanded a high price and were largely bought up by the imperial family and the great nobles.
The best warhorses could sell for over sixty-five hundred Su, while the finest noble chargers could fetch as much as twenty-six thousand Su! That was two hundred and sixty Dinars—a sum that city Free People and rural farmers would never see in their entire lives.
The trickiest part was the access; it wasn't something you could get just by having money. Henry's own noble warhorse had been a gift from the King; otherwise, he would never have been able to acquire such a steed.
Bain even began to imagine himself clad in armor, mounted on a warhorse. That would surely be the most perfect moment of his life!
"My Lord, if we must both die on the battlefield, I swear I will die before you."
Sometimes, a pledge of loyalty needs no magnificent or elegant words. A simple, earnest, even foolish-sounding phrase from the heart can be moving beyond all measure.
Henry nodded, lightly punching Bain on the arm. "But it would be best if neither of us died, wouldn't it?"
Bain broke into a wide grin. "Of course! My Lord was top of his class at the academy and the champion of six tournaments, after all."
Soon, they arrived at the Opera House, where the man led Henry to the top floor.
"Knight Henry, my master is in the innermost room. Your Attendant and I will wait here."
Bain looked to Henry, who gave a slight nod, and remained behind.
Seeing Henry enter the room, the middle-aged man said to the tense Bain, "Greetings. Your Lord will be in no danger, please don't be alarmed."
Bain nodded, but his right hand remained on his sword hilt as he scanned their surroundings warily.
Inside the room, Henry sat facing an old man. They observed each other in silence, neither one speaking.
Henry poured himself a cup of black tea and spoke to the old man before him. "Old man, I can understand you forgoing a bow on account of your age, but I cannot tolerate your failure to introduce yourself, merchant."
The old man snapped out of it and said with a chuckle, "My name is Pedro Silva. I am an Honorary Baron under Count John, and I own the Opera House and the arena here in Odoche."
Henry nodded. "Henry Bro, formerly the second son of Baron Chase's family from the region of the Free City Feikawen. I have now been enfeoffed by the King. I am the head of an independent house, a Vassal to the King, and the lord of Westwood Laine."
Henry was unimpressed by Pedro's so-called Honorary Baron title. Perhaps Pedro could throw his weight around in Count John's territory, but in Henry's presence, it meant nothing.
Henry was a direct Vassal to the King, holding land in his own right. Even as a Knight, he was, by imperial law, an equal to Count John and entitled to his own fiefdom.
And Pedro? He was a vassal to the King's Vassal, and an honorary noble with a titular title, much like the King's court nobles.
Pedro sensed Henry's displeasure and quickly said, "Knight Henry, I wish to discuss a transaction with you, but due to my sensitive position, I can only speak with you here."
Henry said mockingly, "Pedro... *my lord*. You fear displeasing Count John, yet you dare approach me for business? Do you take me for a fool? If I earn Count John's enmity, do you have any idea how that will affect the future development of my territory?!"
Pedro chuckled, refilled Henry's black tea, and handed him several letters.
With a cold snort, Henry took the letters and began to read...