Chapter 37: Market Saturation and Border Friction
Azathoth, give me a risk assessment. Are they looking for a fight, or are they just jealous of our growth?
Analysis. Falmuth is a trade-reliant nation. The rise of the City of Tempest as a centralized trade hub in the Jura Forest poses a direct threat to their monopoly. Logic suggests they are preparing for a 'Market Correction' via military force.
"Rimuru," I transmit, my internal persona sharpening as the carriage rattles along the paved trade road. "Our success has attracted some unwanted attention. Falmuth is mobilizing. They aren't coming to trade; they're coming to reclaim the market share we took from them."
Rimuru, currently sitting in his human form and staring out the window at the passing scenery, tenses up. "They want to attack the village? But we haven't done anything to them! We even opened up the roads for their merchants!"
"We grew, Rimuru. In the world of conglomerate kingdoms, growth is an act of aggression," I pulse, my obsidian surface reflecting the darkening sky through the carriage window. "You lowered the 'transaction fees' of the forest by taming the monsters and building a highway. Falmuth's entire economy is built on taxing the long way around. We didn't just open a road; we bankrupt their main revenue stream."
The carriage crosses the threshold of the Jura Forest, and the ambient magicule density immediately spikes. It feels like stepping into a climate-controlled office after a day in the smog. My [Obsidian Aegis] hums, effortlessly filtering the high-density mana to keep my internal systems running at peak efficiency.
As we approach the gates of Tempest, the change is staggering. What was a collection of high-end huts and stone foundations a few months ago is now a legitimate urban center. The High Orcs, under the guidance of Myrd and Rigurd, have completed the executive wing. Polished stone, large glass windows, and reinforced defensive walls now define the skyline.
"Welcome back, Lord Rimuru! Lord Shinji!" Rigurd bellows, running to meet the carriage. Behind him, the townspeople—Goblins, Orcs, and even a few human merchants from Blumund—roar in greeting.
I float out of the carriage, ignoring the cheering. My focus is on the logistics.
"Rigurd," I pulse, my voice a resonant, cold frequency. "The executive wing. Tell me the plumbing is functional and the silk linens have been installed. I've spent the last few weeks in human inns; I expect my baseline quality of life to be restored immediately."
"Of course, Lord Shinji! Everything is as you specified! And the Blumund Trade Guild has sent a representative to finalize the import-export taxes."
"Good. Have them wait in the second-tier lounge. I'll deal with them after I've appraised the current defensive readiness."
I hover above the city, using [Analytical Appraisal] to scan the perimeter. The town is thriving, but the "noise" I detected at the Falmuth border is still on my mind.
Notice. [Obsidian Aegis] has stabilized. Current Soul Capacity: 20%. Magicule reserves are at 98.4%. Suggestion: Finalize the trade agreement with Blumund to secure a diplomatic buffer against Falmuth.
Blumund is a small player, Azathoth. They're a buffer state at best. If Falmuth moves, Blumund will fold like a cheap contract. We need more leverage. We need to make it too expensive for Falmuth to even consider a hostile takeover.
"Shinji!" Rimuru bounces up to me in his slime form. "Isn't it great? Everyone's happy! We're finally at peace!"
"Peace is just a period of silent accumulation before the next market shift, Rimuru," I pulse. "Look toward the western trade route. Souei's clones have already reported Falmuth scouts within two days' ride of our borders. They aren't here for the souvenirs."
Warning. A high-density magicule signature has entered the city under a diplomatic cloak. Identification: Falmuth Official Envoy. They are accompanied by three 'Otherworlders' with erratic, high-pressure soul signatures.
"They're here," I transmit, my internal persona entering 'Hostile Merger' mode. "The Falmuth diplomats have arrived. And they brought 'specialists'. Rimuru, put the mask back on. External composure is mandatory. We are about to be presented with an ultimatum disguised as a trade deal."
I float toward the new assembly hall, my dark, polished surface shimmering under the forest sun.
Current Magicule Reserves: 98.4%. Location: Assembly Hall, Tempest. Status: Diplomatic meeting with Falmuth initiated. Soul Capacity: 20%. Note: If they try to low-ball us, I'm declaring war on their currency.
Chapter End.