All My Summons Become Divine Girls

Chapter 221: Exclusivity

Hajin woke as the morning light cut through the cracked shutters, throwing pale lines across the maps on the table. He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his face as the bench made its own complaint against his back.

Aria sat on his shoulder in her child form, her translucent blue outline sharp against the brickwork. She projected the regional ledger, the blue digits floating before his face until he swiped them away.

Juna sat by the window sharpening her glaive, her ears twitching toward the street as she refused to look up when he moved.

Ash sat on the floor, his hair messy as he turned a low-grade core over in his small fingers.

The town woke slowly, the sound of wheels and distant shouting filtering through the thin glass.

"The caravan is early," Juna said, her voice low as she checked the weapon’s edge, "the outriders are posting guards at the south gate."

"Greed doesn’t sleep," Hajin noted, standing up to stretch his shoulders, "and she wants to see the gold before the Flints double the blockade."

Vella entered from the small kitchen carrying a clay pot of hot tea, the scent of dried leaves cutting through the dust. She set it on the table without speaking, pouring three cups of the dark liquid before leaning against the ledger desk.

"The old hunter is already trying to stand on that leg," she warned, rubbing her temple, "he will tear the seal before the tea cools."

"Tell him I’ll double his salt if he stays down," Hajin muttered, taking a cup, "we need him standing when the blockade turns into a war."

Loccy tumbled into the room a moment later, her ears drooping as she dragged her hammer behind her. She stopped near the table and yawned loudly, her eyes bright as she spotted Ash playing on the floorboards.

Ash did not wait for her to sit down, blink-stepping across the room to latch securely onto her waist.

"He is heavier than yesterday," Loccy complained, lifting the boy up to inspect his hair, "and he smells like raw iron."

"He ate two low-grade cores for breakfast," Juna noted, setting her whetstone aside, "so he is basically a walking treasury expense."

Marrick came through the door before the tea went cold, his arms full of ledger books and fresh ink pots. He looked like he had not slept since the caravan was spotted, his face pale under the morning lamplight.

He set the stacks down with trembling fingers, his eyes darting toward the window where the outriders were waiting.

"They are lining up the wagons by the gate, my lord," Marrick whispered, smoothing the paper with both hands, "their outriders are already blocking the side streets to secure the loading."

"We have the gold to match her wagons," Hajin said, finishing his tea, "so try not to drop the ink before we sign."

[ GoldRushGamer: ] forty wagons is a huge shipment, he’s about to be richer than the entire capital guild

[ RationalSkeptic7: ] wait, look at the guard spacing on the stream map. They are cordoning the registry, not just guarding the caravan.

[ CringeSlayer91: ] she’s checking the exits because she doesn’t trust the kid who beheaded Vance on day one

[ ashley (Mod): ] Keep Ash away from the outriders, those red coats look like they’re looking for a reason to draw.

Seliza walked in five minutes later, her deep-red skirts trailing across the rough pine floorboards without picking up the dust. The gray man followed a step behind, his eyes scanning the corners before his weight settled evenly over both feet.

Seliza sat down without waiting for an invitation, taking the creaking chair across from Hajin’s table with easy, aristocratic grace.

"Your quarters have a remarkable lack of comforts, Lord Hajin," she noted, her eyes traveling over the bare plaster walls, "though your scribe did his best with the blankets."

"Comforts don’t pay the miners," he replied, keeping his hands in his pockets as he leaned back against the wall.

Ash looked up from his core, his rose-gold eyes locking onto the gray man with that same unblinking stare from the square. The gray man did not look back, keeping his hands clasped before him as he stood motionless in the corner.

[ Loccy_Defense_Squad: ] look at the gray clerk, he is entirely ignoring the baby but his knuckles are twitching

[ ShadowMage44: ] the clerk is keeping his center of gravity low, he probably knows the kid is a threat just by looking at him

[ LoreSeeker99: ] the Serpent Queen brought a hidden bodyguard for dinner, typical noble manners

Seliza spread a sheet of thick vellum across the maps, her fingers long and decorated with the family silver rings.

"My terms are simple," she said, tapping the ink crest at the top, "exclusivity forever, for every ounce of gold that leaves this valley."

"Exclusivity is fine," Hajin countered, watching her smile widen, "but forever sounds like a contract for a dead man."

"You have a blockade at your back, young lord," she reminded him, her voice smooth as silk, "no other house will buy from you."

"The blockade is only as strong as your greed," he noted, gesturing toward Marrick, "and my scribe has the transport ledger."

Marrick stepped forward, his fingers shaking slightly as he opened the regional ledger, "our current extraction rate is rising daily, my lady."

"We can move forty tons a month through the southern pass," he added, his voice shaking slightly, "even with the Flint patrols watching."

[ TaxpayerOnEarth: ] forty tons a month is an insane margin, she’s going to make a fortune on the refining fees alone

[ kernel_panda: ] the blockade is basically a suggestion if she opens that trade lane

[ CringeSlayer91: ] she’s going to squeeze him on the refining fees, watch

Seliza studied the ledger lines, her eyes tracing the numbers with the slow patience of a predator counting cattle.

"Forty tons is a startup, not a trade route," she said, looking back at Hajin, "refining and stamping aren’t free, so the fee is forty percent."

"Twenty," Hajin counter-offered, his tone flat, "and the exclusivity is capped at fifteen tons a month, renegotiated every autumn when the snow blocks the roads."

"Fifteen leaves you too much room to breathe, young lord," she noted, her smile returning, "make it thirty, and we might have a contract."

"Twenty-five," he said, keeping his eyes on hers, "which is still five more than the Flints can afford to watch."

"Thirty-five percent fee," she countered, her smile turning thin, "and we want first refusal on whatever else comes off that mountain."

’So that’s the real trap,’ he thought, glancing down at the child on the floor, ’she wants whatever else the peak is hiding.’

"Thirty," Hajin agreed, leaning forward to tap the vellum, "for the gold only, and the mountain itself remains off the ledger."

Seliza watched him through a long, quiet breath, her fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the edge of the table. Something like a laugh slipped past her lips, her eyes scanning his face with a warmth that was not entirely diplomatic.

"You are remarkably difficult to buy, Lord Hajin," she murmured, gathering her skirts to stand, "but the terms are acceptable."

"Marrick will write the copies tonight," Hajin said, dismissing the interface screen as the stream chat started rolling faster.

"Tomorrow we sign," she agreed, turning toward the door with her outriders, "let us hope your mountain keeps its promises."

The gray man followed her out, his shadow trailing across the floorboards before the door finally clicked shut.

Marrick slumped into his chair the moment the door closed, his ledger slipping from his fingers to slide across the table,"I thought she was going to call the knights," he whispered, rubbing his temples, "she had forty guards outside the door."

"The lady came to buy, not to fight," Juna said, walking over to the table to inspect the vellum sheet, "but she was looking at Ash the whole time."

"She knows he didn’t come from a regular nest," Hajin noted, picking up the boy as he began gnawing on the table leg.

"She wants the mountain," Vella agreed, setting a fresh cup of tea in front of Marrick, "the gold is just her ticket inside the gate."

"Then she paid a high price for a ticket," Hajin shrugged, walking toward the stairs with the child on his chest.

The evening came on slowly, the red outriders setting up camp in the square while the townsfolk watched them from the windows. Hajin sat on the registry roof as the first stars appeared, the wind blowing off the eastern peaks.

Ash lay asleep against his collar, his small chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched the mountain’s breath. Aria materialized on the chimney beside him, her form steady as the stars came out.

"The agreement matches the regional survival projection," she reported quietly, "but the Flints will know about the contract within three days."

"They knew the moment she turned her wagons east," he muttered, staring at the dark line of the trade road.

"We have three weeks before their vanguard reaches the border," Aria noted, projecting a map of the valley pass.

"Then we spend those weeks building a wall," he said, one hand resting on the back of the sleeping boy’s head.

He closed his eyes as the wind picked up, letting the quiet settle over the roof while the town slept below.