Chapter 386 - 377: Patent Tax

Chapter 386: Chapter 377: Patent Tax

Velin and Tristan exchanged a look, each reading the same conclusion in the other’s eyes: the Imperial Faction and the church acting in such perfect unison was anything but simple.

Velin watched the Marquis, quickly piecing together the intelligence from the Royal Capital with what he already knew.

He became more certain of his belief: the Empire, the Imperial Faction, Hector, and the plague were inextricably linked.

And if he wanted to fight this grand conspiracy sweeping the Duchy, the strength of a single person or territory was far from enough. He had to unite all possible allies and bring them into his camp.

After a moment of silence, Velin posed a question to Marquis Pedro.

"Your Excellency, don’t you find it strange?"

Pedro Lorenzo looked at him, puzzled.

Velin continued, "Whether it’s the Imperial Faction’s ’Purification Act’ or the church’s narrative of ’Divine Punishment,’ their objective is not to quell the plague, but to exploit it. One side reaps land and power, while the other reaps faith and souls."

He paused, his gaze turning sharp.

"A natural disaster would never serve up such a perfect feast for two factions simultaneously. The only explanation is—"

Velin’s voice grew heavy. "This plague was intentionally spread from the very beginning."

Velin and Tristan then revealed everything they had discovered about the plague virus, particularly the strange cursed Rune.

After a long moment, Pedro let out a soft breath. The face of this veteran noble, who had weathered the ups and downs of the Royal Capital for decades, showed no trace of shock.

"I had my suspicions as well. The path of this plague’s outbreak is far too... precise."

"It followed the trade routes of Gray Bay, devastating the domains of those who ran local industries. Many families I know have suffered enormous losses. In contrast, the Marquis of the Iron Wall in the Northern Territory and those few families in the Eastern Territory with ties to the Empire haven’t faced nearly as much chaos."

Velin added one final detail. "According to the Golden Sail Commerce Association’s follow-up investigation, just as the plague was first emerging, the Marquis of Black Flame used covert sea-to-land shipping routes to acquire massive quantities of supplies from overseas—far more than he would normally need. He even began stockpiling grain and iron ore in the Northern and Eastern Territories."

Pedro closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

’That young man, who just inherited his title and is renowned in aristocratic circles for his taste in art and business acumen, is actually one of the masterminds.’

’It’s hard not to connect this to the cause of his father and older brother’s deaths.’

’The Duchy isn’t facing a natural disaster at all. It’s facing a long-premeditated war!’

"Two thousand potions aren’t enough." Pedro’s eyes snapped open, and he stared intently at Velin. "The Royal Capital and its surrounding areas have over one hundred and fifty thousand infected, and that number is still growing daily. Two thousand doses will be a drop in the ocean; they won’t even make a ripple."

"That’s why I don’t intend to use them to save people," Velin said, his words utterly stunning.

The corner of Tristan’s mouth twitched upward almost imperceptibly. He knew that the core of Velin’s plan was finally about to be revealed.

Pedro’s brow furrowed deeply.

"These two thousand potions are our foot in the door. They’re the bait." Velin walked over to a map. "They’re the chip that will convince the nobles of the Royal Capital that we have what it takes to upend this entire game. My Lord Marquis, are you interested in flipping the table with me?"

He turned, meeting Pedro’s searching gaze.

"’Upend the game...’" The Marquis seemed to grasp something, but he still looked incredulous.

"I am prepared to sell you the alchemical formula for the Blood Cough Potion."

Having said his piece, Velin smiled and waited for the other man to process the information.

The old Marquis, a man who had spent his life immersed in the vortex of power and intrigue, simply leaned back in his chair, silent. He had anticipated Velin’s decision, yet he was still stunned by the sheer scale of the young man’s ambition.

Then, the old Marquis laughed heartily. "Alright, name your price."

Velin held up a single finger. "I’m calling it a ’patent license.’ You will need to make a one-time payment of five thousand Golden Suns as a technology transfer fee."

"And?" Pedro, of course, didn’t believe the cost would be that simple.

"I am offering two formulas. The first is a ’Potent Blood Cough Potion,’ mainly for nobles and wealthy merchants, with a suggested market price of fifty Golden Suns per dose. For every dose sold, I collect a patent fee of five Golden Suns."

"The second is the ’standard version’ you’ve already seen. It’s for commoners and the army, priced at five Silver Moons per dose. For every one of these sold, I only collect two Copper Leaves."

Pedro understood the logic in an instant. ’Sacrifice a portion of the profit in exchange for a simplified process and a market that’s several times larger... a good deal.’

As if reading his thoughts, Velin played his final card.

"Of course, there is one final condition," he said calmly. "The most crucial ingredient for both potions—the essence of ’Shadow-Grave Herb’—must, and can only, be purchased from me. I will guarantee a sufficient supply."

Countless thoughts raced through Pedro’s mind.

’Velin’s plan is nothing short of brilliant. By partnering with a top-tier noble family like the Lorenzos, he can leverage our established Alchemy Workshops and distribution channels to scale production across the entire Duchy.’

’Not only will this quell the plague in the shortest possible time, saving countless lives, but it will also yield incredible returns for everyone involved. This isn’t just a win-win; for the people suffering from this plague, it’s a win-win-win.’

’What an incredibly intelligent and exceptionally bold young man.’

Then, his thoughts went a level deeper.

’Once this deep cooperation begins, the Lorenzo family will be inextricably tied to this Count from the White Tower. However...’ Pedro didn’t mind Velin gaining this slight upper hand.

’We were bound to stand together sooner or later anyway.’

’As one of the Duchy’s foremost Magic-wielding noble houses, the Lorenzo family controls nearly forty percent of the Magic Materials market. If the Duchy were to be annexed by the Empire, the church’s exclusionary practices and the Empire’s stricter commercial regulations would both inflict devastating losses on our family.’

’Partnering with Velin means siding with this rising resistance. It aligns perfectly with the core interests of the Lorenzo family.’

"I’m in." A smile spread across Pedro’s face. "The Alchemy Workshops of the Lorenzo family are willing to be the first authorized manufacturers!"

A glint of light flashed in Tristan’s eyes.

"Thank you for your support." Velin turned, pulled another pre-written parchment contract from his document case, and slid it across the table. "Here are the specifics."

Pedro accepted the contract and gave it a brief look-over.

He looked at his son—the "Bloodless One" who had once been considered the family’s disgrace. He was now standing quietly beside Velin, and there was a silent, unspoken understanding between them.

"Tristan," Pedro said suddenly, "you have done well."

Tristan’s body tensed almost imperceptibly. He merely gave a slight bow. "It is thanks to the Count’s excellent leadership."

Pedro looked at him, his expression filled with relief. He knew that this eagle, once trapped in the cage of the Lorenzo family, had finally found his sky.

After signing, Pedro handed the contract back to Velin and issued a grave warning. "Count Velin, your plan is nearly perfect. However, if you want to implement this system in the Royal Capital, there is one person you cannot avoid."

Velin secured the contract and raised his head.

"Prince Willandar."