Chapter 81
“What on earth happened during the winter?”
Soporos from Torchello, a trading hub of Iceland, scratched his head.
His hometown, as the name implied, was the autonomous region of Torchello in the Kingdom of Servianus.
Yet for Soporos, Iceland was like a second home.
No, considering the time spent here, it might even feel more familiar than his birthplace.
Starting as a walking merchant, he had become a national trader.
If you asked him the secret to his success, a merchant admired and envied by many, he would confidently say it was action and execution.
Unlike others who preferred to lounge in comfortable chairs and twirl their quills, successful merchants like him tirelessly moved about, investigating markets and trends.
Some even asked if it would hurt their pride to see such a prominent trader acting so common.
Nonsense! Certainly, pride and honor matter for merchants dealing with nobility, but when weighing pride against money, those intangible values could be set aside at any time!
And for him, conducting market research and seizing trends ahead of others was worth temporarily setting aside his honor and pride.
Thus, he always headed to Iceland first right after the weather warmed up, and this time was no different, as he stopped by several taverns in Coldon to gather information.
After all, all city information tends to gather at taverns.
And as soon as Soporos entered, he sensed something was amiss.
“Ugh, everything else in Iceland is great, but can’t we do something about this spring humidity? It’s not even hot, and I’m sweating in this cold, for crying out loud.”
“Hey now. Stop whining and try adding a bit of Fire Witch Finger powder to the stew! This chilly spring weather is perfect for us cold continent folk. It’ll help dispel the humidity; its effects are remarkable.”
“Fire Witch Finger? You mean the Red Witch’s finger? Are you out of your mind!? You’re giving me poison—”
“We’ve been eating a lot of it all winter, so what? Are you scared or something?”
“Ugh! Just give it to me! It tastes terrible and just makes my tongue tingle, what the—? Huh? Huh?!”
“Hehehe! You get what I mean, right?”
…Fire Witch Finger? Isn’t that poison?
At any tavern in Coldon, the same scene unfolded.
(Local natives recommended food with poison powder to workers and adventurers suffering from the cold, despite it being spring.)
Naturally, those being offered refused or sometimes even reacted violently.
But once they took a taste, their expressions changed completely.
Of course, Soporos, who had been wandering around Coldon, couldn’t resist ordering a bowl for the sake of market research.
And he immediately realized why.
One spoonful in, the spiciness hit his tongue more intensely than pepper.
And then, a sudden wave of heat surged through his body.
Despite the cold weather, he was sweating profusely.
Above all, the stew he had been treating merely as fuel transformed into something quite palatable with the addition of Fire Witch Finger.
Soporos understood why the locals were raving about the Red Witch’s Finger.
Why do people in cold regions drink like there’s no tomorrow?
There were several reasons, but the biggest one was the cold.
No matter how much someone tries to show off their masculinity by wandering around in harsh winter, it’s only temporary; they usually want to bundle up in furs to escape the cold.
Of course, in places like the Duchy of Lecherus, people drink until they faint, but Iceland wasn’t like that.
Regardless, it all boiled down to the cold.
And the moment one consumed food or powder with Fire Witch Finger, its effects manifested immediately.
From the moment it slid down the throat, a warmth surged from deep inside, raising his body temperature, forcing Soporos to shed his thick coat despite it being spring.
Soporos realized exactly why the Red Witch’s Finger was becoming a trend among people.
Instantaneous effects.
Potions that produce immediate results are priced high.
They aren’t something a laborer who lives paycheck to paycheck can easily afford.
But Fire Witch Finger was different.
Food containing the Fire Witch Finger was similarly priced to regular food; the difference was negligible—just one or two fence coins.
Soporos needed to shift his thinking.
Red Witch’s Finger wasn’t merely a potion sought by some wizards or occasionally used for magical poisons.
It was a spice.
And it was spicier than pepper.
A spice that offered immediate cold resistance upon consumption.
“Sir Hyphon. It seems Coldon underwent significant changes during the past winter.”
“Ah, of course, Soporos would notice. Indeed, among both nobles and commoners in Coldon, the Red Witch’s Finger is all the rage.”
“Wow, even nobles like you, Sir Hyphon, are seeking out the Red Witch’s Finger?”
“Well, some nobles refuse to eat what the commoners consume, opting instead to douse everything in pepper, but the flavors of Fire Witch Finger and pepper are distinctly different.”
“While pepper is gentle, the Red Witch’s Finger is simply explosive?”
“Exactly. Thanks to its taste and relatively easy availability, as soon as the weather warmed, it spread throughout all of Iceland.”
“Interesting.”
“I heard a rumor that the lord is planning to establish large-scale farms utilizing this. Rumor has it even the Wizard’s Tower is already researching cold resistance potions.”
“Wow…”
And the information Soporos had about Iceland was solidified by his meeting with Sir Hyphon of Bearpond.
Spices, potions, large-scale farms.
The Duke of Iceland himself was said to be personally involved.
The highest-ranking noble, akin to a king in his territory, acting?
The situation in Coldon.
The trend spreading in Iceland.
The Red Witch’s Finger, which was beginning to see price increases due to scarcity.
And he was convinced.
This would undoubtedly make money. No, now wasn’t the time for that.
Even if the Duke of Iceland quickly prepared large-scale farms, there were limits.
Even if crops were grown, solving the scarcity and securing the quantities necessary to dominate the market would still require physical time, even with magic.
It was certain that it would eventually be resolved.
But until then…
The delicate gap between the scarcity and readiness.
He had to ride this wave before the major players completed their preparations!
“Sure, it will take time, but—”
“Thank you for the good information. I usually show courtesy with a little gold, but this time I will be more sincere.”
“Hah! It’s not like you and I are strangers. Let’s ensure we meet safely again next winter.”
After all, the value he gained this time was more significant than just a pouch of gold!
Showing a generous attitude to Sir Hyphon, Soporos ended the meeting hastily, knowing it was rude.
“Oh, Chairman. You’ve arrived? We just finished the deal, and now we’re purchasing items—”
“Cancel everything! We’re heading back!”
“Wha!? But that would leave the ship completely empty!”
“I’ll cover any losses with my own fortune, so hurry to the Bersenseto branch!”
In the cold northern regions of Europa, the Red Witch’s Finger indeed qualified as a magic material, but it was merely a common poison.
And outside of Iceland, places like the Duchy of Lecherus, the Aska settlement, Svalbard Alliance, and so forth, were overflowing with it.
Soporos took a deep breath.
The smell of empty carts and the droppings of the beasts pulling them filled his lungs.
But through that, he could also smell the shining scent of gold coins.
*
*
*
In a bustling corner of the Great Hall, Iona, who was tidying up some spicy-sweet pork ribs, inadvertently let out her thoughts.
“Ah, seeing this truly brings back memories.”
Though time had passed and generations changed, making it so fewer remembered the past, Iona still vividly recalled events from decades ago.
Originally, the people of Iceland, noble or common, struggled to survive.
The reasons were complex.
Savage monsters threatening civilization.
The harsh land that had never seen a bountiful harvest.
The brutal cold that even the northern front defending Iceland’s civilization could not deter.
Beyond the castle walls and palisades, it was an uncivilized land where safety couldn’t be guaranteed not even for commoners, let alone nobles.
With eyes closed, it felt just days ago, yet decades had passed, and now a plentiful feast lay before Iona.
All thanks to the current Duke of Iceland.
Alfred Felwinter’s prowess.
He listened to the words of a mere merchant, providing overwhelming support to carve out markets and expand business in the Kingdom of Adobice, drawing in laborers and adventurers, leading to transformations in Iceland year by year.
And Iona’s lord didn’t stop there.
Having quickly identified the non-toxic nature and remarkable effects of the newly rediscovered Red Witch’s Finger last winter, Alfred acted right away.
Every evening in the Great Hall, dishes made with the Fire Witch Finger were served, continuously spreading rumors that ignited a trend from Coldon throughout Iceland.
“We’re not just filling our bellies anymore; we’re eating delicious food now.”
Unlike the powerful who had previously invited foreign chefs to craft any means of delicious dishes, for thousands of years, gastronomy had been nothing less than a luxury in Iceland.
Living merely to survive, in a land where any crop other than meat tasted terrible, the mere idea that commoners could enjoy palatable meals was something none of the Duke of Iceland’s predecessors even considered attempting.
Iona skillfully tore into the pork ribs, avoiding getting any on her beard, while casting a sideways glance at the small boy at the table.
“Hey, kid. Do you think you can finish that enormous chunk of meat all by yourself?”
“Of course! I’m 11 years old and in my growth spurt now!”
“Well, the youngest princess certainly eats a lot, so you might manage.”
“Oh, I can’t eat as much as Lady Alicia. The amount she eats is beyond regular standards.”
Though the sound didn’t reach her, Iona understood everything said through the boy’s mouth and decided to let slip the blasphemous mention.
Already, Alicia’s appetite had transitioned from a secret to a well-known fact in Winterhome.
At first, there had been attempts to control the rumors (about figures like Duke Felwinter and his couple, or the private tutor Baroness Poppins), but it had long been abandoned.
After all, suppressing rumors often caused them to spread further.
For nobles, gluttony was a symbol of power and authority.
Whether that’s an advantage or disadvantage for the young princess was another matter entirely.
“Honestly, even a bear cub wouldn’t eat as much as Lady Alicia!”
That was an outrageously disrespectful statement, but Iona silently agreed.
Swearing to the Winter Goddess, the young princess’s appetite, considering her gender and age, was remarkable indeed.