Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 880 - 8 Buying a Boat to Go Downstream_2

Chapter 880: Chapter 8 Buying a Boat to Go Downstream_2 Chapter 880: Chapter 8 Buying a Boat to Go Downstream_2 The century-long accumulations of the people in the Mountain Front Territory turned entirely into fuel for the flames of war.

At the same time, what were the city-states of Vineta doing?

Answer: The Venetians were watching, while by the way, making a killing.

Large numbers of United Provincials, both commoners and nobles, fled to Vineta to avoid the chaos of war—bringing with them wealth, technology, and manpower.

While Ned Smith and the Duke Butcher bloodily sawed back and forth in the Federated Provinces, the wool textile industry in Vineta flourished.

The United Provincials’ saying, “Every time the United Provincials fight a war, Vineta gets rich,” refers to this period of history.

In a word, after the Sovereignty Wars ended, the wool textile industry was no longer monopolized by the United Provincials, and the newly born Vineta Republic could now compete with the United Provincials on equal footing.

...

The competition between Vineta and the United Provincials, as both comrades and enemies, has continued to this day.

…

What does all this have to do with Winters?

Actually, it has everything to do with them.

Apart from markets and looms, another major bottleneck in the wool textile industry was raw material—wool.

Without wool, the looms would stop; without wool, the weavers would starve to death.

The trade of ships sailing downstream evolved from today’s on and is no longer the primitive form of “peddlers buying wool from herdsmen by the pound.”

Competition drives the evolution of business models, and financially powerful wool merchants are no longer limited to buying wool; they directly invest in flocks or even buy the pastures.

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Even so, each year the Venetians and United Provincials still fight tooth and nail over wool.

Wool continues to flow from the plateau to the shores of the inland sea, turned into fabric and trafficked across the continent.

Fine wines, precious metals, steel, and handicrafts follow the reverse route of wool, pouring continuously into Paratu.

If the Senas Alliance is a giant, then the Ashen Stream River and Torrent River, which carry the wool trade, are both the giant’s arteries and veins.

However, the problem emerged here: the Alliance’s major artery was cut.

After the bloodied night at Kingsfort, Alpad’s military government occupied the “Jiangbei Province” to the northwest of Paratu. The land south of the Ashen Stream River and to the northeast was controlled by the Second Republic.

After several rounds of attacks and defenses, neither side was able to break through the Ashen Stream River.

There’s a saying: when the city gates catch fire, the fish in the moat suffer.

The Second and Third Republics faced off across the river, but it was the Venetian wool textile merchants who were utterly devastated.

The wool trade is unlike any other business. If agricultural produce prices fall, plantation owners can switch crops or not plant at all; if pots and pans don’t sell, workshops can stop production.

But not with wool.

Sheep don’t care who wins or loses, they just keep on eating grass, growing wool, and bleating. As long as they are not dead, the sheep will grow wool.

Last year’s wool still had some that hadn’t managed to be transported back to the country. Since transportation along the Ashen Stream River was completely cut off, this year’s wool was all stuck in Paratu.

By next summer, when the new wool season arrives, there would even be no place to store the wool.

No, a more likely situation is—Vineta’s wool textile industry simply won’t last until next year.

“Since the water route is not an option,” Winters interjected for the first time when he heard this, asking Mr. Leo, “isn’t the land route viable?”

“You’ve asked the most interesting part.” Mr. Leo’s eyes widened slightly; he paused, then turned his head toward Antonio. “Your Excellency General, I must trouble you to help explain.”

Antonio sighed, “The territories of Paratu that border the United Provincials and Vineta are controlled by the Second Republic, which has a strong pro-United Provincials inclination.”

“This is the most infuriating part.” Mr. Leo added a witty remark, “Clearly it is Paratu that’s at war, yet only the Venetians are hurt.”

“Your meaning is…” Winters sorted out his thoughts, “The Second Republic has implemented some kind of trade embargo, intercepting wool destined for Vineta in Paratu, while wool headed for The Federated Provinces can travel by land, without any obstruction?”

“Exactly.” Mr. Leo nodded.

“Why not just confiscate your wool directly?” Winters frowned slightly.

“There are matters of face that need to be addressed properly,” Mr. Leo said with a self-deprecating smile. “In my view, our counterparts in The Federated Provinces are just waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“Waiting for us to surrender,” Mr. Leo said lightly. “Waiting for us to come begging to sell them the shares of the sheep flocks.”

Seeing that Winters didn’t quite understand, Leo patiently explained, “The wool business is highly risky. Shearing costs money, as does transport and sheep husbandry. Land can be listed for sale, but if the sheep die, all that’s left to sell is the meat. Hence the saying ‘Family fortunes count thousands, yet none in the herd counts for wealth.’ Better to sell off the shares of the sheep flocks and recoup the capital before a plague wipes us out than to risk everything. The gentlemen in The Federated Provinces aren’t in a hurry, time is on their side; they can afford to wait.”

Winters’ brows knitted even more, “But what help could Iron Peak County offer, given its location? This is the extreme southwest of Paratu, insulated from Vineta by the entirety of Paratu.”

“The caravans carrying wool need to enter the buffer zone. I request your permission for that. As for the rest, you needn’t worry,” Mr. Leo said with a polite smile. “It has all been taken care of.”

It has all been taken care of? Winters wondered.

Leaving Iron Peak County to the east is Mont Blanc County, then Riverside County, then further east is Westwood Province, and one must cross Eastern Forest Province before finally reaching Vineta.

This route spanned three entire provinces, taken care of?

But another word in Leo’s statement suddenly struck Winters—”buffer zone.”

The buffer zone referred to a hundred kilometers of uninhabited land west of Paratu’s national border. Further west, that was the territory of the Herders.

Chills ran down Winters’ spine, and he thought to bolt up, but ultimately, he just stayed seated steadily, leaning back in the chair and squinting at Mr. Leo.

“So, you’re entering through the buffer zone? Where does this wool of yours come from?”

From Mr. Leo’s plump face, Winters read many emotions: curiosity, admiration, concern…

Leo met Winters’ gaze, his smile growing brighter. “It comes from exactly the place you’re thinking of.”

If any company commander dared to talk like this, Winters would’ve kicked them already. He very much wanted to grab Leo by the collar and force him to clarify,

But for many, many reasons, his physical reaction was limited to leaning back slightly, resting against the chair’s backrest, and narrowing his eyes at Leo.

“You’re smuggling wool from the Herders?” Winters plainly pierced through the pretense.

“Who’s better at sheep farming than the Paratu People, aside from them?” Mr. Leo’s smile faded, and his demeanor became more reserved and respectful. “It’s not smuggling; it’s a purchase. Last year’s wool is currently stored in the warehouses of Kingsfort. Transporting it directly would not be cost-effective and would alert the gentlemen of The Federated Provinces.”

“Purchasing wool from the Herders,” Winters reiterated. “And transport isn’t a hassle?”

“Please, allow me to explain—much of this year’s wool is still on the sheep,” Leo finally revealed the tip of his strategic iceberg. “If possible, it’s more economical to move the sheep.”

Winters blinked. “You might not know, but the meadows at least a hundred miles west of Iron Peak County… I’ve burnt them all.”

Mr. Leo’s face remained unchanged: “No matter, shearing takes place in the summer, by which time the grass will have regrown.”

Winters considered briefly. Since Leo claimed to have cleared the way, there wasn’t much he needed to do but to allow the wool to enter the territory. Helping the Venetians, while simultaneously courting favor with Lady Navarre, he had no reason to refuse.

“Just wool?” Winters waved his hand, showing a smile for the first time. “Then forget about duties like tariffs and transit fees. Just agree on a time and place, and I’ll send men to erect the Floating Bridge for the caravans to cross the river.”

Mr. Leo’s expression turned oddly amused, “No, you’d best still provide a tariff standard. Because… you’ll understand when the time comes.”

…

…

Winters had neither seen nor shorn any wool. Mr. Leo was merely laying the groundwork; the big play was still to come.

But the portly Mr. Leo had indeed solved a problem for Winters.

The old problem of the guard, the wolf, the sheep, and the rutabaga.