kscans

Chapter 1 - Prophecy of Disaster

Beneath the spring sun, the grand gates of the Royal Palace were thrown wide open. In the center of the plaza within the castle walls, a tiered platform had been set up, surrounded by knights clad in silver armor. The highest tier of the platform was draped in a scarlet felt carpet embroidered with gold thread. The second tier featured a deep violet rug with silver thread, and the third was covered in a plain blue cloth. On each tier, twelve chairs awaited their occupants. The scene, which so perfectly visualized the structure of this country on the Royal Capital's most festive day...

"Talk about a blatant hierarchy."

I muttered to myself from within the crowd of commoners gathered before the gate. It was a far cry from the traditional beauty of my homeland. A man next to me with the look of a craftsman gave me a puzzled stare. Of course he would. The word for a tiered doll stand didn't exist in this world.

It was the first day of the first month. In the world where I had lived until fifteen years ago, it would have been New Year's Day. Here, however, the season was spring, about the cusp of March and April in Japan. The event was meant to pray for a bountiful harvest, but in the Royal Capital, where there were no farmers, it carried a stronger meaning of celebrating the new year.

The prosperity of the Royal Capital, with its population of two hundred thousand, was impressive considering the level of civilization. A stable climate, flat lands, and the fact that the last foreign war was fifty years ago were the conditions that allowed the rich agricultural nation of Crownheite to thrive. As far as I could tell from the records, there had never been an earthquake or a volcanic eruption. Furthermore, for the last ten years, they hadn't known a single poor harvest. With the most essential things, food and safety, secured, it was only natural that the citizens' faces were bright.

For that very reason, the country's rigid political system, the very hierarchy before my eyes, was unshakable. The social statuses of royalty, nobility, and commoner were almost entirely fixed, with a clear pecking order within each class. For someone like me, who had lived into his mid-twenties in modern Japan, it was incredibly stifling. And I'm saying that as someone who was rather conservative in my past life, so you know it's true.

What I mean is, when someone like me, reincarnated as the son of a small-time merchant, tries to do things using knowledge from a past life, I'm guaranteed to run into trouble and absurdity. For me, who values self-preservation above all else, it's just too much.

I could concede that a stable government is a good thing. It gets a passing grade on the single point of maintaining order. And since knowledge and skills are passed down from person to person, an emphasis on local and family connections is, to some extent, unavoidable. But for that reason, or perhaps because of it, economic activity should be conducted with a little more flexibility. It is a merchant's role, after all, to take on risk.

They connect producers and consumers to realize stable prices and supply. To that end, they serve as a buffer in the form of inventory. Furthermore, they develop new products and markets to diversify the flow of wealth. Taking risks for the sake of stability, that is the role of commerce. Otherwise, there would be no reason for a merchant, who produces nothing, to potentially acquire more wealth than a minor lord.

And to take on risk, one must be able to move flexibly and swiftly. But there is an entity that obstructs all of that, citing precedent and rank. The heartbreaking part is that this entity is the Commercial Guild, which should be a mutual aid association for merchants.

The lower tier of seats began to fill. Dressed in expensive fabrics were the great merchants who led the various commercial guilds. With their high-collared outfits made of velvet-like cloth, they looked just like nobles. In fact, they held honorary noble titles that lasted for a single generation. They were appointed by the king, upon the recommendation of the high nobles who held interests in each guild. Of course, when a new generation took over a company, the son would be granted a new title, so it was practically hereditary.

I glared at the potbelly of Dorefano, who sat in the center of the lower tier. He was the head of the Food Guild, dealing not only in grains but also in many high-end ingredients for the nobility. He was the man who had subjected our Vinder Company's new honey to every form of harassment imaginable. I could have stomached it if we had been overwhelmed by capital, or lost in terms of advertising power, salesmanship, or connections to the nobility. In a way, those things are a measure of a merchant's strength and credibility. But I would not forgive him for using the fact that defying the guild master was tantamount to rebellion against the nobility.

That's right, I wouldn't forgive him. Not that it was wrong, or that it wasn't allowed, but that I would not forgive him. I pay my respects to business rivals, but I've decided to show no mercy to political enemies. Not that saying so now amounts to more than a loser's bark.

The second tier, for the actual hereditary nobles, was filling up. I was surprised by the person who sat in the center-right seat. It was a woman, and a young one at that, maybe in her mid-twenties. The man sitting next to her was the duke who had served as prime minister for the last decade, which meant she was the head of a noble house of comparable rank.

While I was sifting through my mental list of names, the top tier filled. The king took his seat on the throne. I noticed that the crowd of commoners around me had grown considerably. They were probably here for the ceremonial wine that would be served after this farce was over.

The king handed something to the prime minister, who reverently received it and unfurled it. "People of the Kingdom," he began. His voice carried well, amplified by a magic tool to reach our ears. The content, on the other hand, was utterly uninteresting. In short, it was just "Last year we had a bountiful harvest thanks to the blessings of the gods." To be precise, the east had a great harvest, while the west was just average.

Don't they ever think of adding a little originality or flair? As I suppressed a yawn and looked over the platform again, I noticed an empty seat. The chair, placed a little apart from the royals, was surprisingly simple for one on the highest tier.

Come to think of it, she wasn't here, though she should be. A classmate I'd only spoken to a few times at the academy, Alfina Crownheite. She was the Fourth Princess, I think. Even as the fourth, I recall her job at events like this was to add a touch of grace to the whole charade. As I looked around, the prime minister finished his reading.

As if on cue, a girl in priestess robes appeared. Her unadorned purple vestments were so plain they seemed ready to vanish amidst the glittering jewels and lavish embroidery of the top tier. But that very simplicity only enhanced the girl's pure and clean beauty.

Even from a distance, her hair was a lustrous blue-silver. Her features were well-formed, though they still held a trace of youthfulness. Her figure was slender, not particularly curvy. She was a beautiful girl, like a figurine titled "Saintess" had come to life, no, even more so. She was far cuter than the second or third princess, all decked out in their dresses.

"The Oracle Princess, Alfina-sama, will now deliver this year's prophecy."

Alfina stood up from her separated seat. So she's a member of the clergy, at least in form, having taken vows. Still, a prophecy. This farce was reaching its peak. I couldn't completely deny it in this world where magic existed, but this had to be a mere ritual. Just like the king's speech, the content never changed from year to year. If the king's words were "Last year was a good year," then the prophecy was just "This year will be a good year too."

Besides, if it were a real prophecy, they'd never make it public. What would they do if it predicted the fall of the kingdom or the outbreak of a war?

"This year, too, the land shall bring us many blessings. Especially in the west..."

The girl's clear voice echoed through the venue. The gazes of the common folk were fixed on the fifteen-year-old beauty. She was drawing far more attention than the prime minister's speech. Having a beautiful girl in the role really made for a pretty picture. The commoners were more honest than the bigwigs on the platform.

What she was saying was vague, as befits a prophecy, but it essentially meant the east would have a normal harvest, and the west a bountiful one. The citizens' spirits began to rise. A bright future foretold by a noble beauty on a festival day, I could understand the excitement. Of course, I had no intention of basing my business on something like this.

After stirring up hopes for a trouble-free and bright year, Alfina paused. The crowd braced themselves to cheer. Once the ceremony was over and the castle gates closed, the commoners' festival would begin. I had no interest in this kind of performance, but I figured I could at least give a round of applause for a classmate who had fulfilled her role. It was an unsolicited kindness, but she had defended me once.

Just as I raised my hands to clap, she lifted her gaze, which had been slightly lowered, and looked straight ahead.

"Please, listen."

Her voice, different from before, rang through the venue with desperation.

"The crystal has foretold another future as well... This year, a great calamity from the west shall strike this kingdom."

The crowd looked left and right in confusion. Some had even jumped the gun and started clapping, only to awkwardly stop their hands. Alfina pressed her lips together and looked directly at the people who were bewildered by her words, as if silently insisting that they were the truth.

"Whoa, whoa, is she okay?"

Even I, who can't read the room, could hear the atmosphere freeze. The dignitaries on the platform were clearly shaken. The nobles' faces were taut. The queen and the crown prince glared at her with bitter expressions. The king, as expected, remained composed, but the smile he wore moments ago had become like a Noh mask.

No matter its religious significance, or rather, precisely because of it, there was no way the Oracle Princess's official words would not be checked beforehand.

That meant her statement was not part of the plan. My classmate, so far out of my reach, endured the stares focused on her, her hands clasped before her chest as if in prayer.

"What calamity?" "The west...?" The murmuring of the crowd grew louder. It was only natural, having such an ominous and completely vague statement thrown at them.

It was one thing for someone like me who thought it was a farce from the start, but for the superstitious masses, it was even more unsettling. At this rate, the commotion would only get bigger.

Gaudily dressed ceremonial guards approached Alfina. The prime minister stood up. That noblewoman from earlier headed toward Alfina. The girl made a gesture of resistance, but after the noblewoman said something to her, she seemed to give up and sat back down.

"Even if a calamity should befall us, the Kingdom will overcome it and protect its peace and prosperity. As it always has."

At the prime minister's declaration, the people on the platform applauded loudly. Shouts of "Long live the Kingdom!" rose from the knights surrounding the dais. Spurred on by this, scattered applause began to break out from the crowd before the gate. Bottles of wine for the celebration were carried out from within the grounds. Cheers erupted, and the applause grew louder as if a weight had been lifted.

Amidst the somewhat disjointed atmosphere, the castle gates began to close, as if to seal the trouble within. Through the gap in the gates, I could see a crestfallen Alfina being escorted down the steps by the noblewoman.

I pictured her at the academy. Elegant and calm, with a modest demeanor unbecoming of a royal. She was the person furthest from the type to grandstand. What reason could she have had to shatter the celebratory mood of the New Year...

"Well, it's none of my business. Time to get back to the shop."

I turned my back on the citizens swarming for the wine. The word "west" bothered me, but there was no point in dealing with something as vague as a prophecy. The son of a fledgling merchant company that could be blown away with a single puff has plenty of more realistic threats to worry about, like pressure from the guild. I don't have time to get involved in the "festivals" of the elites.