In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

"Let's hope we can navigate this crisis safely," he murmured, stepping back into the palace as the cold rain trickled down his neck. His thoughts, tangled and unrelenting, would not find peace until the war had ended.

Michael was deeply engrossed in selling low grade weapons. Whether to genuinely assist Michael or to line his own pockets, Baron Kensington had introduced a vast network of connections. Among the many visitors drawn by these efforts was Philip, who had come reluctantly, seemingly pushed into it by circumstances.

Regardless of his motivations, a paying customer was still a customer, and Michael never neglected his patrons. This time, Philip was treated with greater hospitality—tea and cookies were served, a marked improvement from his previous visit, which had included the threat of dragons or sphinxes. Unfortunately, Philip was in no mood to enjoy such comforts.

The weapons his father had promised to send had not arrived. Instead, he had received only a letter:

"Dear Son,

I regret to inform you that the royal court has issued a decree. All high quality weapons manufactured by our family have been requisitioned by the crown. Though they claim it is a purchase, it's little more than theft. Alas, we have no choice but to comply. Apart from the initial support I provided, I can offer no further aid. I hope you understand. Stay safe, my son."

After reading the letter, Philip had raged helplessly. He cursed himself for not bringing more weapons when he left, but his baggage had already been overburdened. His family's illicit dealings with Pamir smugglers also left him no choice but to comply with the requisition, lest their secret be exposed.

Desperate to secure weapons, Philip scoured every possible source before learning that the Crassus family was selling low grade arms. Though he initially balked at dealing with Michael, whom he considered despicable, his alternatives were either exorbitantly priced or utterly inadequate in quality. Reluctantly, he turned to Michael.

Having spent tens of thousands of gold on buying serfs from the southern regions, Philip was already stretched thin. He had barely managed to acquire essential artisans through his father's connections, but the lack of settlers remained a dire problem. The only viable solution was to accept refugees displaced by the war. To attract them, however, he would need to make a significant contribution in the conflict and ensure the security of his lands.

Thus, with no other options, Philip found himself humbling himself before Michael. "Honorable Sir Michael, I've heard you're selling weapons. Might you sell some to me as well?"

Michael greeted his valuable customer with a broad smile. "Of course! The weapons are in this warehouse. Feel free to choose what you need. We also offer custom orders. However, as the premier supplier of weapons in the northeastern provinces, we do not cater to small transactions. A minimum purchase of 300 units is required, and we do not offer discounts, no matter the quantity."

Had Philip come with a letter of introduction from Baron Kensington, the terms might have been more favorable. But since he had arrived of his own accord, there would be no such benefits. The thought of being overcharged yet again made Philip seethe inwardly.

"...I understand," Philip replied, gritting his teeth so tightly his words were almost inaudible. Michael's demeanor was more akin to that of a ruthless merchant than a noble. If Philip had any choice, he would have turned around and left immediately.

Unfortunately, he had no such choice. To arm his serf soldiers, he needed at least 500 weapons. As Michael opened the warehouse doors, Philip was momentarily awestruck. Rows upon rows of neatly arranged weapons greeted him. While not of the finest quality, they were serviceable enough.
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"Go ahead and select the items you need. The weapons you see here are exactly what you'll receive," Michael said generously, as if offering a great favor.

Philip examined the materials while discreetly checking the price tags. As rumored, the prices were not excessively high. The cheapest items were spearheads at 5 silver coins each, while the most expensive was a fully iron forged sword priced at 1 gold and 5 silver. Reinforced wooden shields were priced at 1 gold apiece.

Calculating quickly, Philip estimated the cost of equipping 100 elite soldiers with swords, spears, and shields, and 400 regular soldiers with just shields and spears. The total came to 900 gold. Not an unreasonable amount, he admitted grudgingly.

The straightforward transaction, devoid of haggling, left Michael equally satisfied. "Then it's settled. I'll have the items delivered to you by the end of the month. As for transportation, we'll keep it simple—just cover meals for the haulers. Let's say 10 gold?"

Philip's hands trembled as he handed over the payment, his resentment palpable.

Watching Philip leave, his fury barely contained, Michael couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. Perhaps it was lingering bitterness from the forced relocation of his estate.

"[Michael, making a lot of money today too? But when's the bank going to be built?]" came a voice in his mind.

"Ah, sorry, sorry. I've been so busy lately, I haven't had time to dig up the grave. I'll get to it soon."

"[Why a grave?]"

"We need someone who can dedicate themselves entirely to managing the bank and investments. Everyone around me is far too busy."

"[If that's the case, it can't be helped. Is my money being saved properly, though?]"

"Don't worry. Your money, Marcus's money, and the others' are all being saved and managed perfectly."

"[Others' money?]"

"Remember when you bragged in front of the other monsters and knights came swarming in? Thanks to that, monsters started earning annual salaries. Now they ask me to convert their salaries into bonds for investment."

"[Ah, that! Well, we could say we're trendsetters.]" The proud tone of the voice made Michael smile.

Still, the thought nagged at him. He really needed to dig up that grave soon. If he delayed any further, the monsters might revolt.