Chapter 25

    The Heart of Trade

    The village’s central supplies were separated for Mr. Jonathan to inspect, while the aid provisions from the Central Church were delivered to Redwood Church. The delivery wagon was pulled up the mountain path by a large warhorse, while the soldiers, now full of energy from their delicious meals, diligently pushed the back of the wagon to help.

    Twenty sacks of dried grains, primarily wheat and barley, were unloaded and placed in front of the church courtyard for counting. In addition, there were three large sacks of salt. Many of the children’s eyes sparkled with excitement as the two nuns signed to confirm receipt, following the Church’s procedural guidelines.

    This year’s aid provisions were nearly 1-3rd more than before. Father Jackson explained that the increase was due to a collective decision by the cardinals, who had agreed to provide as much support as possible to small churches in remote areas.

    Kit finally received the answer to a question that had been lingering in his mind—how did a village that didn’t grow barley have it as part of their supplies? His thoughts quickly turned to the beer brewing process, which used barley. It seemed like he should hurry and find some hop plants, then reach out to buy mead fermentation starters from the village to experiment with.

    Some gods... those who loved alcohol, might finally be impressed by his offerings.

    Once the supplies had been distributed, a group of over ten soldiers took residence at Redwood Church. They were grateful for the simple beds of coarse cloth laid over dry straw—far better than sleeping in the cold forest at night. The fresh, clean mountain air was also a welcome change from the usual stench they had grown accustomed to. The newly planted crops at the church were thriving with fresh green sprouts. As for food, there was no need to mention it… it was better than anywhere else.

    The next morning, the soldiers were asked to lend a hand with some labor, as the church needed to build a new warehouse for storing future harvests. Everyone was surprised—wasn’t the prophecy from Lord Landbruh predicting a poor harvest?

    As they walked behind the church, they saw massive piles of freshly harvested tubers, still covered in dirt, stacked as high as a small mountain—so much that they had to tilt their heads to take it all in. And there wasn’t just one pile—there were four.

    It was unbelievable that just two acres of land could yield such an enormous harvest. Even if the central supplies had not arrived, no one in this village would have gone hungry. The soldiers could only assume that the priests of Agriculture Order must have assisted during their long wait here. No one considered the possibility that it was the work of the children.

    The large wooden warehouse, raised above the ground, was built from high-quality red pine wood, generously provided by Father Matthew. It was nearly as tall as the White Wings Church, though they had deliberately made it slightly shorter out of respect. As for its length and width... they had gone all out, using up every last piece of wood. Naturally, the living quarters inside the building had also been improved. The standard of living for everyone here had greatly increased.

    During their stay, the resting soldiers also helped restore and reinforce the large stone building, making it sturdier, cleaner, and more beautiful. After repairing worn-down sections and adding missing elements, the church atop the great mountain looked noticeably better. Everyone who visited the village felt that there was something enchanting about this place, something that calmed their spirits in a way they had never felt before.

    In their hearts, they made a promise to return here one day—for rest and relaxation.

    At the same time, news from around the kingdom was shared with everyone by those who had traveled and witnessed events firsthand… Captain John.

    “The farmlands in the central and northern regions should be harvesting their first crops by now, though it may be slightly later than this village. As for the drought foretold in Lord Landbruh’s vision, we still don’t know when it will occur. I urge everyone to work hard and prepare as best you can.”

    “Has the central government provided any additional updates? How are they planning to handle the situation?” Jonathan asked on behalf of many others.

    “The central authority has already sent urgent messages to all lords. In addition, the Seris Kingdom has increased the central food reserves by 1-3rd, which you have now received.”

    “Will there still be tax collection?”

    “The tax rate remains the same at 1 to 10. Collection will begin between the fifth and sixth month. Please make sure to be prepared,” John said with a heavy expression. Although the tax rate remained unchanged, the collection period had been moved up nearly a month earlier.

    The villagers and merchants began discussing the matter among themselves, and soon the large hall was filled with noise. They… were displeased, but they understood the reason.

    The kingdom had to manage scarce resources after distributing aid to every corner of the land. It was already generous of the King of Seris not to raise taxes further. They just…had to pay them a little earlier than usual.

    However, when they thought of the abundant surplus that the church had, everyone felt more at ease.

    Those who once survived solely on donations had now become a pillar of support and comfort for the villagers. Jonathan even decided to open new farmland at the foot of the mountain, just below the path leading up to Redwood Church. He then proceeded to organize groups of farmers eager to learn how to cultivate sweet potatoes for sustenance. Naturally, many people were interested—not only farmers waiting for their grain crops to mature but also a number of lumberjacks who asked to join in as well.

    The village’s grand meeting went more smoothly than expected. By the latter half of the day, no one was blaming the central authority anymore. The situation here was unlike anything John had seen in other villages. The veteran soldier decided to ask the people whether they would be willing to let him draft a letter proposing sweet potato cultivation to be sent to Russel City, in hopes that it might improve the situation.

    “What do you think, Anne, Lisa?” Father Jackson asked formally, though he already knew the answer.

    “Of course. Helping our fellow humans is a noble act. I believe the person who first brought these sweet potatoes from the forest to cultivate would be delighted as well.” Sister Anne looked at the capable young boy, who was now feeling bashful.

    “But… um, will you really be able to get people to eat these things? It…might be a bit difficult,” Lisa voiced her concerns without holding back. John, hearing this, visibly hesitated.

    The merchants had already considered this issue for some time. There was certainly a suitable solution. They just wanted to see whether young Kit would come up with it himself… and as expected, they didn’t have to wait long.

    “May I…offer a suggestion?” The green-eyed boy raised his hand high, looking as if he had just thought of a brilliant idea.

    “What if we include cooking methods along with it…? Provide multiple recipes, along with sample sweet potatoes, and distribute them to communities so that people can try them firsthand. That should help change their perception… If possible, we can also ask the merchant group from Boral to assist in spreading knowledge and cooking techniques. This would help establish a demand for the crop, making it easier to encourage people to cultivate sweet potatoes.”

    It was a simple and straightforward idea—enticing people with delicious food. Once demand existed in the market, suppliers would naturally emerge to meet it. More people would start planting sweet potatoes, and a major production hub like Redwood would flourish as trade continued to flow in.

    The merchants who heard this clapped in approval and gave the young boy several thumbs up.

    Wealth would circulate evenly through all levels—who wouldn’t like that?

    That evening, an important letter, drafted by Captain John, was prepared, accompanied by an official letter from the three high priests and a supporting letter from White Wings Church, signed by the two nuns. The parchment used for writing carried a sense of importance, filled with the authority of various religious seals.

    Since everyone would be departing in two days, Kit made rough calculations to allocate a large portion of supplies to be transported for ‘advertising’ in other regions. The two nuns were no longer surprised by such unbelievable developments. Only the three priests closest to them still found it astonishing… Fortunately, no outsiders knew about it. The ability to perform calculations—knowledge typically reserved for the nobility—remained a well-kept secret.

    The central supply of sweet potatoes harvested in the church’s first round had decreased by more than half when they had to be packed into sacks and sent off with the merchant convoy and military convoy returning to Russel City and Seris City. The valuable cooking recipes were recorded on high-quality parchment, sewn together into a thin book. The handwriting on it… no one knew it belonged to Kit.

    Even Kit himself was surprised… since when had he become so proficient in English?

    “You… are still far too innocent,” Artis, the head merchant, shook his head slightly after reviewing the text on the parchment. He then crouched down to meet the young boy’s eye level.

    “What you just handed to me is worth an enormous fortune. Why don’t you demand some benefits for yourself and your companions…?”

    “I understand that well…” The young boy smiled knowingly but then shook his head as well. “…But food and life are far more important than money. If people starve and live in hardship, where would we even get the money to trade?”

    “Hahaha.” The members of the Boral caravan burst into laughter, while Artis, on the other hand, looked utterly exasperated.

    A hand—belonging to Matilda, the fabric merchant lady—extended, waiting to receive something. The head merchant, Artis, gritted his teeth before stuffing a cloth pouch filled with coins into her palm.

    “I told you not to underestimate the boy’s thinking too much. Kit is quite sharp. Hahaha.” Her laughter was filled with overwhelming joy. Then, she turned to look at her favorite young boy with shining eyes.

    “Good child, remember that mindset well. It is the heart of honest trade—never forget it!” She gently patted Kit’s head several times before handing him the small pouch of coins she had received from Artis. Inside, there were several gold coins.

    In his heart, he knew that this was the fair price… and in the hearts of the merchants, they thought so too.

    They traded as equals. The only debt left was the kindness they endlessly gave to one another.