’The system knows exactly when to throw a wrench into my peaceful afternoon,’ Kane thought with a wry smile, dismissing the prompt with a quick swipe of his hand.
’If we fight two thousand mercenaries in the mountain pass, my vanguard will take serious casualties, and I refuse to let my soldiers die just because an Elven Queen has a full coin purse.’
"Put your knife away, Thora," Kane ordered gently, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder while looking toward the southern horizon where the mountains loomed.
"We are not going to fight the Black Vanguard in the mountains."
"Are we just going to let them reinforce the city without a fight?" Thora asked in disbelief, turning to face him with furrowed brows and clenched fists.
"If they reach Sylvander’s walls, breaking through will cost us hundreds of good soldiers, Kane!"
"We will not lose a single soldier. We are going to buy them out before they ever see an Elven banner," Kane replied with a smirk that made Misha smile in sudden understanding.
"You want to outspend the Elven royal treasury?" Misha asked softly, leaning against his side while her silver eyes faded back to their normal ocean blue.
"Can our new merchant taxes actually cover a contract of that size without draining our reserves?"
"It is not a bribe, Misha. It is an aggressive acquisition," Kane corrected playfully, tapping his temple with two fingers.
"Mercenaries care about gold above all else, and the Elven Queen is paying them out of desperation with a finite treasury that will soon run dry. Thanks to our new trade hub, our income is continuous and growing every single hour, which means we can offer them a long-term contract they would be foolish to refuse."
"Firlia is going to weep real tears when she sees the size of that expenditure," Thora laughed, sheathing her hunting knife with a sharp click.
"Firlia will complain for five minutes, and then she will calculate the profit of owning an eastern mercenary legion and start drafting their tax forms," Kane countered confidently.
"And what happens if their guild master refuses your coin out of some misplaced loyalty to the Elves?" Seraphine asked from the shadows, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.
"Then you and Sira will cut his throat while he is busy counting his Elven silver, and we will offer the same contract to his second-in-command instead," Kane answered without a moment of hesitation, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Let us head back down to the war room so we can check our liquid assets, because we have a major business deal to propose to some very dangerous people before sunset."
’War is expensive, but peace is bad for profit,’ Kane reminded himself, offering an arm to both Misha and Thora as they walked out of the garden together.
By evening, tension hummed inside the central war room, where candlelight flickered across a crowded table draped in maps and supply manifests.
Firlia stood at the head of the board with her stacked ledgers open neatly beside her inkpot, while Thora paced the floorplates in her full battle armor, her boots clicking sharply against the stone with every impatient stride.
Leaning over the parchment, Misha traced the magical ley lines running through the southern border with glowing fingers, and Sira spun a pair of daggers between her palms as she waited for her orders.
Even Seraphine lingered quietly in the corner, leaning against a stone pillar with her arms crossed while she waited to see if Kane’s promised bonus was actually worth extending her stay.
"We should catch them inside the narrow pass before they can deploy their battle formations, because two thousand mercenaries will be helpless if we trap them between the cliffs and rain arrows down on their heads," Thora argued, slamming a gloved fist onto the southern mountain range drawn on the map.
"My vanguard can hold the canyon exit while the archers turn the entire pass into a slaughterhouse!"
"A bottleneck ambush sounds wonderful, and my assassins can easily slip behind their rearguard to slit their commanders’ throats while they are busy looking up at your archers," Sira agreed with a wicked grin, tossing one of her daggers into the air and catching it by the handle.
"We can wipe out half their legion before they even draw their swords, which will send a very clear message to the Elven Queen."
"A mountain ambush puts our Tier III mana-forged weapons at risk of being captured! Not to mention the cost of medical supplies and armor repairs. We cannot afford a war of attrition!" Firlia immediately objected, slamming her open ledger down onto the table to halt their warlike enthusiasm.
"Do either of you realize how much silver it costs to replace a single mana-forged breastplate, or are you both simply determined to bankrupt this fortress for the sake of a little bloodshed?"
"We are warriors, Firlia, and our job is killing enemies before they breach our borders!" Thora fired back, glaring across the table at the accountant.
"You cannot fight a war by sitting in a chair and counting coins while the rest of us risk our necks!"
"You will not have a neck to risk if I stop authorizing the funds for your daily rations and weapon maintenance," Firlia countered, refusing to back down an inch as she tapped her quill against the parchment.
"Winning a battle means nothing if we spend every coin we possess just to bury our dead and repair our shields!"
Slamming his open palm onto the wooden table with enough force to rattle the inkpot, Kane silenced the entire room instantly as all five women turned their attention toward him.
"We are not fighting them in the mountains," Kane declared, his voice calm yet carrying an authority that brooked no further argument.
"Why pay in blood when we can buy their loyalty instead?"
’Mercenaries care about one thing above all else, and that is gold,’ Kane reasoned while looking down at the southern trade routes marked on the map.
’The Elven Queen is paying them out of desperation, but thanks to our new merchant guild, Menual currently possesses more liquid capital than an ancient kingdom teetering on the brink of total collapse.’
"You want me to walk into a camp filled with eastern killers and offer them a sack of coins while they are preparing for battle?" Sira asked, raising an eyebrow as she stopped spinning her daggers.
"I am confident in my stealth, Kane, but mercenary commanders usually shoot intruders first and ask about money later."