I Got Isekai'd, Well Shyt!

Vol.4 Chapter239 That’s A Lot Of Dough.

Vol.4 Ch.239 That’s A Lot Of Dough.

Everyone in the chamber focused intently on Rya as she hurriedly wrote on the parchment, her quill moving swiftly with urgency. The soft murmurs of the audience receded into silence. Each stroke of her pen created an ink trail that mirrored her thoughts, adding a tangible tension to the atmosphere.

"By the Goddess! She's weaving a curse!" one of Duval's aides shouted, his voice trembling with fear.

"If you accuse my fiancée one more time, I will send you to the dungeon... Do you hear me?!" Quinus spat as the man slumped down in his seat.

Quinus, Johan, Douglas, Tayna, Nieren, Yuliana, and several Royal Knights glared at the man who was now trying to hide while Rya blocked out the distractions, concentrating solely on the parchment in front of her.

"Earl Nathaniel... What are the market prices for your goods?" she inquired, her pen gliding swiftly across the paper.

Nathaniel's heart raced at the unexpected attention, shock flashing across his face for just a moment. Yet, he quickly masked it, determined not to reveal any sign of vulnerability.

"The cost for a bale of wheat stands at 60 Fiafyrian silver, while a bale of cotton commands a price of 800 silver pieces," Nathaniel explained with a hint of pride in his voice. "We also grow some specialty crops that our farmers cultivate, but those are only sold within our own Kingdom."

Rya nodded thoughtfully, her quill scratching fervently against the parchment as she absorbed every detail.

"How much do you export in a year?" she inquired, looking up with keen interest.

"Well, our fields yield an impressive 120 million bushels of wheat and 5 million bushels of cotton," Nathaniel replied, a smile spreading across his face as he considered the bounty of their land.

Rya leaned in, curiosity piqued. "And how much of that do you manage to ship out through William's ports?"

Nathaniel hesitated, his brow furrowing as he weighed the numbers in his mind.

"We try not to use his ports much due to the high tariffs and shipping fees. Plus, there's only so much we can sell to our northern neighbors before we oversaturate the market. So, we send out 23 million bushels of wheat and 900,000 bushels of cotton annually through the city of Solace. We barely make any profit from the Viscount's ports, and the prices of goods are so high that I fear that the countries in the Wasser Continent would be less likely to purchase our goods. It's getting to the point where it might be better to let our surplus rot rather than attempt to sell our goods by sea."

'Well, it looks like William's tax revenue from Nathaniel's goods isn't enough for him... This greedy bastard is going to feel the hurt. Hehehe.'

Rya had a glint in her eye as she double-checked her math and entered a variety of percentages for using their neighbor's port. She envisioned both a best-case and a moderate scenario. She was glad she had asked Zellin Cordforge how his domain generated its income.

Rya's day job back on Earth was as a consultant, a role she had assumed would define her career for the foreseeable future. However, after her unexpected teleportation to the vibrant and dangerous new world of Tertius, everything changed. In the bustling town of Ironside, the relentless demands of her former life—grappling with BPRs, dissecting Value Stream Mapping diagrams, tracking KPIs, and laboring through endless spreadsheets—became distant memories. The tranquility of her new surroundings allowed her to breathe deeply, shed the weight of corporate jargon, and embrace a simpler existence.

As days turned into weeks, Rya immersed herself in the enchanting environment of the Mage's Library. The shelves were lined with ancient tomes, each one brimming with wisdom on the fundamental Elemental incantations and the art of crafting intricate artifacts. The soft glow of floating candles illuminated the intricate illustrations, and the faint scent of parchment and aged leather filled the air, creating an ambiance of magic and possibility. Yet, despite the allure of this fantastical realm, Rya felt an old familiar itch creeping back—an insatiable desire to consult, strategize, and navigate the complexities of problem-solving that had once defined her existence. So, she asked Baron Zellin Coldforge to provide her with the details of his territory's finances. After several sessions of intense study, she began to understand how this Kingdom functioned.

Rya never expected to enjoy returning to her old way of life, yet a small part of her had longed for the challenge. As a consultant, she could apply the knowledge she had gained from her work in a way that felt more meaningful, impactful, and far more interesting. She had never viewed herself as a businessperson, but the more she learned, the more everything seemed to fall into place. Plus, she didn't want her MBA to go to waste, even though she no longer needed to pay back the loans—or should we say she couldn’t.

"And how long do you think it takes for your goods to reach the Kartoll Kingdom?..."

Nathaniel didn't know if Rya was testing him or simply curious, but the question made him confident in his answer. He leaned back and began thinking out loud.

"It would probably take two to three weeks. But that depends on how easily my goods can get through the borders of the other Domains," said Nathaniel.

"Ok!... I have a basic idea now. But what is the quickest way to New Larna?" Rya asked as she glanced over to Nathaniel.

Baron Thaddeus's interest piqued when he heard Rya inquire about one of his cities, while Duval felt irritation that his emergency meeting was being overshadowed. He was ready to cut in on the Dark Elf until he noticed something unusual. As he scanned the room for clues on council members' allegiances, he usually overlooked Alaric and his supporters, who constantly hindered him. However, from his peripheral vision, he observed William’s expression of concern or confusion, paired with Alaric’s evident discomfort. After a moment of scrutiny, Duval concluded that Alaric was attempting to undermine this discussion. Duval remembered only once seeing Alaric so defeated: when his assassin turned against him and eliminated all his spies within the palace. King Cyndre's fury had erupted when Alaric tried to murder Quinus as a baby, leading him to contemplate immediate execution. At that time, Duval feared that executing the Arch Duke would ignite an uprising among the Minor Noble Families. He believed that a civil war would undoubtedly provoke an invasion from neighboring kingdoms. Thus, Duval devised a swift strategy to sway the King's decision and punish Alaric by depleting his wealth and imposing a ten-year wage garnishment. He was certain that if Alaric lost all his fortune and title, the minor nobles would rally to his cause, and both Alaric and his son would forfeit their claim to the throne, causing Alaric's supporters to gradually abandon him.

Duval was convinced that his elaborate plan was impeccable, a carefully crafted scheme that would surely sway the loyalties of the Minor Nobles. However, to his utter dismay, a majority of them remained steadfastly loyal to the Duke, resisting the allure of the substantial bribes he dangled before them—money drawn directly from Alaric's own coffers. It became one of the most significant blunders of his life, an unexpected turn of events that left him reeling. In hindsight, he realized he should have anticipated this outcome; the Minor Nobles had always shown disinterest in his cause, preferring the stability and prestige that came with their allegiance to the Duke.

So now that the Prime Minister saw the Duke uncomfortable, he decided to stay quiet and see where the conversation was going.

'Is he acting dumb, or is he just an idiot? All that jerk knows is how to pray and try to kill non-humans. If anyone is pitiful, it's him.'

"I mean, does the Alliance have paved roads that connect all the Kingdoms? What's the quality of the docks? Do you have warehouses that can store the goods?" Rya asked with a mocking grin.

Terenthiel sat up in his seat and stared down at this smug Dark Elf, "Our churches are the envy of the continent."

There was an audible groan throughout the chamber. Rya kept her poker face as she tried not to laugh in the idiot's face.

"Yes, Terenthiel, your churches are the pride of your kingdoms. But they are not what I asked. So, I'll ask again: what is the quality of your roads?"

Terenthiel narrowed his eyes and didn't blink once as he stared at the dark elf.

"Our roads are as the Gods intended..."

Most of the nobles looked at Terenthiel in disbelief while Quinus tried to hold back a smirk. Rya stared at Terenthiel with an unamused look.

"So... Your country has unmaintained roads that are most likely dirt, and your ports are much further away than Cresmond... So, how is this beneficial to Fiafyr, exactly? Unless you are not planning on taxing our goods once they reach the Holy Alliance's territory..."

Rya gave the Prince a smug smile and watched the veins on his forehead begin to bulge.

"We do not tax... But we do demand that you donate to the church," Terenthiel seethed with hatred as he looked at Rya.

Rya pretended to be amazed when she heard that. "Sorry... I must be ignorant, but what's the difference between a forced donation and being taxed?"

"I SAID WE DEMAND DONATIONS! NOT FORCE, YOU WITCH!" Terenthiel yelled as he slammed his fist on the table.

"Terenthiel... You must calm yourself," Quinus said in a condescending manner.

"Y-You are blind, Prince Quinus! She's nothing more than a heretic that's fooled you into doing her bidding! And this is her bidding... Trying to turn us away from the church!" Terenthiel screamed in anger.

Quinus let out a heavy sigh as he looked at the foreign Prince.

"It seems you lack the ability to negotiate when no one fears you, Terenthiel. You came in here thinking you could push us around because of your Paladin. But now that everyone realizes we are stronger than you, that fear has vanished. Let me remind you that the only reason you’re still here is that the Prime Minister allowed it. Otherwise, you and your Paladin would have been kicked out a long time ago," Quinus said in a bored and indifferent tone.

"How dare you speak to me like that! I am the Fifth Son of the Holy Order!"

"That means absolutely nothing in my kingdom, Terenthiel... The Prime Minister can only do so much to keep you here... So you better learn how to play nice... Or you will find out the hard way how much stronger Fiafyr is," Quinus said in an annoyed tone.

Duval felt a tightening knot of panic in his stomach as the Crown Prince's ominous words echoed in his ears, hinting at the onset of war with the Alliance. He had been anxiously watching, waiting for Rya to unleash her financial strikes against William, but now Quinus was poised to draw swords instead of coins. The stakes had never been higher, and the impending chaos threatened to engulf them all.

"Prince Quinus, please do not threaten our guests," Duval said with a pleading look.

"Guests, Lord Prime Minister? They are here for their own gains and have insulted me, Rya, and Fiafyr," Quinus said as he glared at the Prime Minister.

Duke Alaric found himself in a perilous game, desperately seeking a way to thwart the Dark Elf who threatened to unravel his ally’s standing. William had been his lifeline, supporting him through the financial turmoil that followed after the disastrous assassination attempt on his own nephew. Now, Alaric understood that he needed to provoke Quinus into revealing weakness—enough to make the other nobles doubt the Crown Prince and rally against this insidious Dark Elf.

His most potent leverage lay in a tragic secret: the death of his only son, Marcus. Alaric suspected that Duval and Sebastian were aware of his son's fate, yet the other Major Nobles remained blissfully ignorant. So, he set to work, plotting a strategy to plant seeds of doubt within their minds. His goal was clear: to depict his nephew as an ambitious tyrant, a puppet manipulated by the Dark Elf. If he could twist the narrative just right, he might just turn the tide of power in his favor.

And so Alaric finally saw his opportunity to strike. All he needed to do was get under his nephew's skin and, in the heat of the moment, claim he had evidence to support his lies. He just needed Quinus to lash out to make him appear guilty, which wasn't much of a problem since getting under people's skin was one of his talents.