Chapter 81: The Merchant’s Gift

“Gold?” Upon hearing Buck’s words, Weir’s brow arched sharply.

“That’s right, gold, my lord!” Buck’s excitement was plain as he spoke, his eyes alight with animation. “And not just any gold—a chunk of pure gold as large as a man’s palm! Do you realize, sir, that the purity of that piece was over ninety percent? Even the Empire’s own minted coins barely reach such quality!”

“Oh?” Weir let out a thoughtful hum, glancing at Buck. The man’s narrow, triangular eyes were fixed on him, gleaming with greed and cunning—there was clearly more to this tale.

Something flickered in Weir’s mind, and he nearly blurted out, “You’re not about to tell me there’s a gold mine in the Wildwood Forest, are you?”

“Astute as ever, my lord! You’ve guessed it already. Though, allow me to amend your words slightly—the gold mine is actually within the orc lands.”

Buck’s sly grin stretched even wider, his peculiar eyes making his expression seem almost indecent.

Though Buck had not been with Weir for long, the surprises he brought were never few. From the start, this former bandit revealed his unique talents, bit by bit—talents he might not have realized he possessed himself.

“And, what’s more,” Buck continued, “the orcs’ attitude toward gold differs vastly from ours. To humans, gold is wealth—a means to trade for anything of value. But orcs are incapable of such transactions; they have no concept of money. Their strength is fearsome, but their minds are dull, and so their society remains mired in barter. To them, a lump of gold wouldn’t fetch even a meal! Besides, gold is too soft to forge weapons or tools, so to their eyes, it’s little better than trash—less useful than a common stone, which at least can be sharpened into a blade.”

“That does sound enticing,” Weir whistled, and Buck’s excitement grew as he winked conspiratorially and glanced forward, dropping his voice, “There’s something else. In truth, I’ve been conducting a few transactions with Daken…”

“Transactions?” Weir’s interest sharpened—this was the heart of the matter.

“Exactly, my lord. I’ve been trading with Daken—exchanging human grain for orc gold!”

Buck’s eyes flashed as he continued, “The orcs survive by hunting magical beasts of the Wildwood for food. During spring and summer, they manage well enough, but when autumn and winter come, they face a dire crisis: famine. Remember, orcs are not human; they neither herd nor farm. When the seasons turn cold, hunger becomes their bane. According to Daken, it’s in these desperate times that orc tribes wage war solely for food—for the Wildwood is home to many tribes, not just the orcs…”

“This is an incredible opportunity,” Weir realized at once. He might not be a merchant, but even he could see the vast potential for profit if he could seize a foothold here.

“Trading surplus human grain for orc gold?” Though Buck had made it clear what a colossal chance this was, Weir’s mind remained calm. His thoughts whirled as he focused intently on Buck. This crafty fellow always seemed to be plotting, or perhaps waiting for something…

“All right, Buck, lay your cards on the table. Tell me all your misgivings and schemes. I refuse to believe it’s as simple as you claim. Besides, if you’d known of this for so long, why haven’t you tried to get your hands on the orc gold mine yourself? Don’t tell me you’re only confiding in me to prove your ‘loyalty’.”

Buck sighed theatrically. “You’re too shrewd, my lord. The truth is, all I know comes from Daken—whether it’s entirely accurate I cannot say. And…” He chuckled darkly. “I’m only one man. If word got out, the uproar would be unimaginable—a gold mine is irresistible to most! But those mines are right beside the savage orc villages. Orcs may not care about gold, but let any outsider approach and they’ll tear him apart for dinner! Even if I could gather the men and resources, I’d still have to venture into the Wildwood itself. That means braving the magical beasts before I even glimpse an orc. Perhaps we’re lucky this time to have reached the misty region unscathed—ordinarily, you’d discover how dreadful this forest truly is. Hundreds of mercenaries might turn back after reaching the mists—nine out of ten won’t dare go further. It’s that dangerous!”

“It’s like a naked woman lies before you, and you find yourself… powerless?” Weir teased, his lips curling into a wicked smile.

Buck did not deny it, for the truth was just as he’d said: securing that gold was far more complicated than it sounded.

“Difficult or not, I still want to see it with my own eyes.” Buck sighed, but then gritted his teeth, and a rare look of determination shone in his gaze.

“You know, Buck,” Weir laughed softly, clapping him on the shoulder, “it’s a shame you’re not a merchant by trade. Despite the odds, you haven’t given up, have you? Let’s visit the orc villages first. I trust you’ll seize the chance when it comes. Oh, and Buck—autumn is nearly here, isn’t it?”

At Weir’s final words, a spark fluttered in Buck’s heart. A bold idea flared in his mind, and the sly smile returned to his face. He licked his lips, excitement quickening his voice, “Yes, my lord, autumn is almost upon us!”