Bear School Astartes

Chapter 444. The Empire in the Eyes of the Aibin People

"I am not a Niflgaard!"

A man with a cock pheasant tail feather pinned to his velvet hat muttered impatiently. As an afterthought, he spat into the swirling water at the rear of the barge.

"You see, a self-proclaimed Niflgaard wouldn’t do what I just did. Spit, puh."

As he spoke, he leaned with his elbows on the barge’s railing and spat even farther, showing it off to the person who had just questioned him.

Lann, Ged, and Regis stood a short distance away.

The higher vampire pulled out a handkerchief from his shoulder bag and wiped it across his M-shaped hairline.

"Mr. ’Not a Niflgaard’, with the wind and waves as they are, I’m a bit uncertain whether the splash that just hit my face was from the stern or your saliva. In other words... could we maintain a bit of civility here?"

The barber-surgeon’s manners never failed to amaze Lann and Ged; even in such a scenario, his tone was slow, unhurried, and steady.

The velvet hat man smiled sheepishly at Regis and then led his companion a little further away.

In truth, they couldn’t move much further, given that the ferry on the Yaruga River was notoriously overcrowded.

"Hey, Regis," Ged leaned over from the side. "Although it’s a bit embarrassing to admit, I was quite interested in hearing him continue."

"Indeed!" Lann also leaned over; since they were all next to the railing, Lann had to stretch his head further out than Ged so Regis could see him.

"To express the difference between Niflgaard people and others in such succinct terms — I find his linguistic artistry quite intriguing."

Regis scratched his head, although Lann had already put his hood back on, he could still imagine the curious little face beneath it.

"If you both still want to listen, why not use your talents?"

The higher vampire said helplessly.

"We were just about to." Ged closed his eyes, heightening his Demon Hunter senses towards hearing.

"It’s just that we were worried you wouldn’t be able to hear," Lann said in agreement.

"No, that’s the one thing you don’t have to worry about," Regis said helplessly.

So, the three of them, at a distance safe from being ’sprayed on’, resumed listening to the ’eloquent discourse’ of the man in the velvet hat.

"Your home is in Aebin, your goods come from Aebin, and the money from selling your goods goes to an Aebin bank."

The velvet hat man’s companion recited as if listing from memory.

"Although I’m a Bruges person, we’ve traveled together several times, so we know each other. You are an Aibin person, essentially a person from Aebin of the Niflgaard Empire, an affiliated kingdom. Is calling you a Niflgaard wrong?"

"Don’t call me that!"

The man in the velvet hat rebuffed fiercely, as if insulted.

The three of them heard the sound of a cock pheasant tail feather brushing across the barge’s wooden rail, suggesting the man may have taken off his hat in agitation.

"What do you know? Do you think just because you live within Niflgaard’s territory, you can call yourself a Niflgaard? Let me tell you, northerner. Only those born on the banks of the Alba River, around Golden Pagoda City, can be called ’Niflgaard’."

"Want to call yourself a Niflgaard? Hmph, ever look at which mud pit you were born in? Do you deserve it?"

Even though he was sarcastically addressing his origins, the man’s tone in the velvet hat made one grow resentful of those ’genuine’ Niflgaard on his behalf.

The noise on the boat was deafening.

The horses crowded in the middle of the barge snorted, their hooves clattering loudly on the deck. The boat floated in the center of the water, shrouded in dense fog. The barge’s bow cut through the green duckweed on the water’s surface.

None of this could hinder the hearing of the three men.

The man in the velvet hat continued.

"You know, I’m in business in Aebin. But aren’t you curious? The things I can sell are often just a few: basic agricultural products and handcraft materials. Do you think there’s a reason I only have these things to sell?"

"Hard to understand, right, northerner? How could you grasp the methods of the Merchant Guild headquarters in Golden Pagoda City?"

The man in the velvet hat snorted coldly.

"That’s because there is no more handcraft industry in Aebin! Cheap industrial products from ’genuine’ Niflgaard regions are being sold in Aebin without restraint. No tariffs, no local product protection policies... their products, shipped from afar, are better and cheaper than ours! Who would buy local products anymore?"

"Now, Aebin can only supply Niflgaard with grains and raw materials. Originally, my goods were also headed to Niflgaard, but I just hate them so much I’d rather take the long way around to sell them to the north."

After that, there wasn’t much substance.

The man in the velvet hat was advised by his companion to watch his words, given that Niflgaard’s spy network is as renowned as their military system.

The man in the velvet hat, while still feeling resentful, had been through so many years, with Aebin annexed by Niflgaard for over two decades. He had gone through the most tumultuous period emotionally, now just snidely remarking as a habit.

Soon, their conversation shifted to a nice bathhouse in Brugge City, and the fiery, bold attendants inside.

"Uh, I have to admit, I didn’t understand it,"

Ged looked around at Regis and Lann, a bit puzzled.

At the onset of the risqué topic, the three of them concluded their ’walls-have-ears’ session.

"A flood of cheap goods into the country is not a good thing? How come this guy talks about it as if it’s a catastrophe?"

"Hmm, it indeed is difficult to explain..." Regis pinched his chin between his thumb and forefinger, with a thoughtful and cautious expression.

"Oh, please don’t misunderstand, Ged. It’s not that I don’t understand like you; I’m just contemplating how to explain the concept of ’product dumping’ and its detrimental effects to you."

The tall Bear Demon Hunter smacked his lips, seemingly wanting to say something, but ultimately realized he did indeed not understand what ’product dumping’ meant, so he resignedly closed his mouth again.

Meanwhile, Lann’s elbow rested on the wooden railing, his fingers absentmindedly picking at a raised wood chip, playing with it with his fingertips, while his cat-like eyes absentmindedly gazed at the swirling water.

Up until today, he had thought the Niflgaard Empire would be a Western version of the Great Qin Empire, given it sounded like it had grand aspirations to unify the continent.

It was just tinged with a whiff of Western theocratic flavor.

But listening to the grievances of these affiliated nationals, it felt less like an empire aiming to unify the world, akin to the Great Qin Empire, and more like the Sun Never Sets Empire, which sought out colonies everywhere, dumping goods to exact an industrial scissors difference combo.

It’s only because the colonies are geographically connected, unlike the Sun Never Sets Empire’s overseas ones, that gave Lann the impression of it being akin to the Great Qin Empire.