Chapter 362: The Rejected Invitation
“An excellent child.” Priest Agamemnon stood up, watching Klein’s departing figure as he spoke.
“He’s just a little too curious,” Vito added.
Then he crouched down, reached into the fish basket behind the fishing boat, pulled out a fish, and asked, “Would you like to try it? The fish from Odo Village are quite popular in York City.”
Although Priest Agamemnon had come here on official business, it was not so urgent as to rush.
Vito lit a fire. After removing the innards from the fish’s belly, he roasted it directly over the flames, scales and all.
“The Maha fish only needs a simple roasting and a sprinkle of coarse salt to taste delicious,” Vito said as he tended to the fish.
“But ordinary folks don’t have the luxury of using coarse salt like you do,” Priest Agamemnon said, sitting on the edge of the boat.
Two knights serving as guards stood a short distance away, protecting Agamemnon.
As for the nearby area, Vito himself was enough.
“Didn’t the Earls Dailin Butler and Lambert Merrick already open salt fields in their territories? They’re using the scholars’ sea-salt refining method. Even now, can’t the commoners afford salt?” Vito asked with some surprise.
Earl Dailin and Earl Lambert had once been King Pegira’s personal guards. Their territories were located by the sea.
Priest Agamemnon smiled slightly. “The New Testament Era hasn’t been long yet. There are still places that haven’t felt the sun’s light. The places you’ve been able to reach are among the wealthier regions of all Greenwood.”
“Well, looks like you’ve already thought it through,” Vito said, dropping the topic.
When it came to politics, he knew his head wasn’t built for it.
Priest Agamemnon suddenly pointed at the roasting fish and said, “After the Eastern Crusade ended, when Salvador led his kin from this lake toward the sea, the Maha fish multiplied rapidly in Lake Salvador. Now, they’ve become one of Greenwood’s major fish catches.”
Vito was a bit surprised but still replied, “That’s as you say, but for the people of Odo Village, very few actually make a living fishing Maha. Only those like Klein’s father—whose bodies have some old injuries—go out to fish.”
“The able-bodied ones mostly work at the port. Those merchants are generous—helping move cargo for a day earns at least four York silver coins.”
Priest Agamemnon said, “But in previous years, that rate should have risen to six, even eight.”
Vito frowned. “That’s true. Is there a reason behind it? I thought it was just because more laborers at the port made it easier for merchants to lower pay.”
“That’s part of it,” Agamemnon nodded. “But aside from that, there’s also a larger trend—merchants are finding it harder to earn profits.”
“Before the Old Testament, there was large-scale trade dumping toward the Northland. Back then, goods flowed rapidly, and a vast amount of gold coins entered circulation. That was the age when great merchants were born—those who could earn over a thousand gold coins in a month’s journey.”
“But after the New Testament began, Greenwood entered peace. With no wars, and the Northern Wars under His Majesty Aen’s control, commerce was tightly regulated. After all, the Northland’s resources were far less abundant than Greenwood’s.”
“As a result, despite the stability, merchants found it even harder to make gold.”
Vito brushed more coarse salt on the fish, the aroma beginning to rise.
“But what I see,” Vito said, “is that the Adrian Territory grows ever more prosperous, with trade becoming ever more frequent.”
Priest Agamemnon chuckled, his tone somewhat proud. “Haha, this is the ‘Center of the World.’ As long as the world improves, this place will naturally grow more prosperous.”
“However, what you’re seeing is prosperity driven by nobles’ pursuit of luxuries. The commoners merely follow.”
“This is still Greenwood. At least, the commoners of York City don’t starve. Because of that, they have the leisure to mimic the nobles—for both money and vanity.”
Vito frowned. “That’s not a good thing.”
Agamemnon said, “Nor is it the sin of envy. It’s precisely this vanity that gives York City its vibrant atmosphere.”
He turned slightly toward the distant harbor, where several merchant ships were faintly visible.
“Greenwood now has four Marquises, five Earls, nine Viscounts, sixty-eight Barons, and one hundred and seven Lords. Fewer than in the days of the Three Principalities, but today’s major merchants all serve these nobles.”
“Yet as Greenwood stabilizes, the nobles’ needs are gradually decreasing. Merchants have no choice but to turn to the commoners, whom they once disdained.”
“In the Old Testament era, their trade spanned regions and was measured in thousands of gold coins. After the New Testament, noble trade averaged hundreds. Now, with noble demand shrinking, only those with noble ties can still serve them, while the rest are forced to seek business among the commoners.”
“They must keep trading, or their status as merchants loses meaning. They’d be stripped of that title and become laborers like the dockworkers of York City—or farmers like any commoner.”
“So even if they look down on commoner markets, they have no choice but to engage in them.”
“Tell me, Sir Vito—what do you think the unit of trade has fallen to?” Priest Agamemnon suddenly asked.
Vito hesitated. “Perhaps... ten gold coins?”
After a pause, he added, “Klein’s father can earn over thirty gold coins in a year.”
“But this is a prosperous port near York City,” Agamemnon said. “In truth, now that merchants trade with commoners, each deal’s profit is measured in single gold coins.”
Vito’s hand trembled as he held the fish skewer. “But... I’ve heard that a commoner working the fields for a whole year can earn ten gold coins?”
“That’s right.” Agamemnon nodded. “Commoners do have spare coins, but not many. Many goods they can make themselves or get from the village—they won’t buy them from merchants.”
“But more importantly,” he continued, “each noble territory has its own policies and influence, causing vast differences in goods and pricing. Some merchants sell high, others low.”
“At first, commoners bought out of curiosity. But later, they waited for cheaper merchants—until they realized the goods weren’t necessities at all.”
“So they stopped buying, saving their coins instead. They’re not nobles; they don’t care about a few silver or copper coins’ difference. Even if that closes their connection to the outside world, how could commoners truly understand that?”
“As for the merchants—they’re lucky just not to lose money.”
“Yet even so, they dare not stop.”
Vito finally understood. “So that’s why the Senate decided to establish guilds this year—to balance these issues?”
Agamemnon nodded. “Indeed. This is no longer the age of confinement, when a commoner’s entire life was bound to a single village. Now, one can travel across all Greenwood—or even to the Northland.”
“In the Old Testament, there was disorder but survival. In the New Testament Era, there must be order. Only then can every heart be united, and everyone truly feel the Lord’s protection.”
By the end, Priest Agamemnon’s voice was impassioned.
Vito nodded deeply. “As you say, it’s indeed necessary.”
Then he looked at Agamemnon again, remembering he had come for a reason. Hesitating, he said, “But I’m only a Guardian Knight. I’m afraid I can’t help you much.”
Agamemnon shook his head. “The merchants’ matters are for the Councilors. What I wish is for you to serve as the head of the Knight Guild—just as the Scholar Guild has already been established—to bring order among knights, to guide their transformation from the Knights of the Old Testament to the Knights of the New.”
Priest Agamemnon spoke solemnly.
The year he left the Church, both Vito and Leo had reached Tier Five. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come to them.
But Vito refused outright. “No. That’s something I can’t agree to.”
“I am a Knight of the Church. My duty is to guard the Glory Fortress and be ready at all times to fight for the Lord. Besides, I’m certain the Guild won’t be so easily formed. It’ll inevitably involve politics—and I’m not fit for that.”
Agamemnon persisted. “It’s precisely because you’re a Knight of the Church that you can treat others fairly. The knights would respect that.”
“During the meeting, Councilor Puniel said that to manage the Warrior Guild, one must have a warrior’s strength—and to lead the Knight Guild, one must be a knight.”
“Moreover, at least a Tier Five Great Knight. Otherwise, how could they inspire loyalty?”
“But the Knight Guild is crucial—it represents the kingdom’s ultimate strength. And right now, among all the Tier Five Great Knights I can trust, only you and Knight Leo remain.”