Ch.288Horn of Plenty. Irshem (2)

“Money makes money” was a maxim and proverb that Viktor knew well.

Through what is commonly called ‘reinvestment,’ one could increase production efficiency and earn more money.

As if to prove this, gold was scattered throughout the streets, and merchants were casually tossing gold coins—not copper or silver—while selling their goods.

Considering that even in the heart city of Paerus Veil, copper and silver coins were the main currency, the cost of living here was dizzyingly high.

“The inflation is severe.”

“Ah… you’re quite perceptive. But it’s not all bad. It means there’s a lot of money circulating.”

Viktor nodded.

When the value of money decreases, it means there’s a large amount of currency in circulation, which could also be evidence of the high income level in this place.

“I see… I hope the economy here always remains healthy.”

The fact was that Irshen’s economy was always healthy.

With not just one but ten Apostles of Abundance residing here, if the economy were to collapse, it would mean the God of Abundance would fall to become a pauper god. Therefore, the Council always paid close attention to Irshen’s economic trends, and if growth slowed even slightly, the palace would be turned upside down that very day.

“How old is this place?”

“Well, we don’t know exactly since even we couldn’t find accurate information. What we do know for certain is that it was established near the end of the Eclipse Era.”

“Oh?”

“In a devastated world, people needed a place to trade, and that’s this Irshen, where countless roads converge. At first, this city was nothing special. Walls made of haphazardly collected scraps, shacks built with tattered mats and rotting boards… it was truly a ruin. The foundation of this city was built through the bone-breaking efforts of merchants and travelers.”

“I see…”

Viktor replied while observing the passersby.

None of the pedestrians wore clothes made of rough, coarse fabric, nor did anyone wear single-colored or patternless garments.

The buildings were tall and magnificent, and in the sky, gold-plated airships flew by, releasing silver foil balloons.

Even a place like this had humble beginnings.

“Merchants attracted more people, more people attracted more resources, more resources attracted more entrepreneurs, and more entrepreneurs attracted more merchants, creating a cycle of growth. Even now, this city continues to grow bit by bit. In another thousand years, the population of 30 million might become 300 billion.”

The guide said this with a smile.

His bright expression clearly conveyed his optimism about the future and pride in the place he belonged to.

The smile of an uncomplicated person can truly shine like this.

“It’s good to have hope for the future.”

Unattainable hope is torture, but striving with all one’s might toward achievable hope deserves praise and acclaim.

That was what Viktor thought—a legendary figure who had embarked on an adventure because of that thin hope and became an Apostle of the Sun. The perception of hope varies from person to person; what seems as big as a head to one might appear as small as a millet seed to another.

But as long as it exists, how can one give up?

There were far too many things in the world that were too late to pray for but too early to abandon.

“Here we are. This is the palace of Irshen. Please go in.”

“Aren’t you coming in?”

“Haha… what a thing to say! How could someone without permission dare to enter a space where the Apostles reside? There’s no need to worry about me, please go ahead.”

Viktor thought for a moment, then nodded and led his party members through the palace gates.

According to Simon, the pure gold gate was so extravagantly reinforced with hardening enchantments at the atomic level.

Marveling at how much money one must have to engage in such financial absurdity, the Iron Walker party entered the palace.

*

Inside, they were greeted by decorations so magnificent they made one’s eyes spin, sculptures detailed down to the subatomic level, and platinum chandeliers burning with blue flames.

The paintings on the walls were each worth more than Parcifal’s annual revenue, and even the floor they walked on wasn’t granite but jet—a black gemstone made from processed coal.

“Incredible.”

Viktor’s brief assessment was all he could manage, as the luxurious items in the palace were of such tremendous value that words failed him.

Viktor suddenly realized why Irshen’s economy was always good.

Whenever the economy might decline, they could simply sell a single floor tile and generate money, making economic downturns impossible.

“Welcome, Luminator, and members of the Iron Walker party. Welcome to Irshen. I am Donald, one of the ten council members of this city.”

A brown-skinned man dressed in elaborate attire approached the Iron Walker party, who were gawking at the palace like country bumpkins seeing a city for the first time.

His name was Donald, one of the ten Apostles governing Irshen.

“Donald. Pleased to meet you. We came for a pilgrimage, and I’m at a loss for words at such hospitality.”

Unlike Donald, who used extremely honorific language, Viktor addressed him with minimal courtesy.

This was because while other Apostles had merely “received a share” of divine power, Viktor, unlike them, had actually been a part of a god before being separated and falling back to earth—literally a god incarnate (Arahitogami).

If there were to be a hierarchy, he would be the heaven above heavens compared to the Apostles.

While he could die if killed due to having a physical form, how would one even go about killing him?

“Hahaha. Treating guests generously is the duty of all hosts.”

Well aware of this, Donald joked and then sent a young girl standing beside him forward to Viktor.

She was carrying a large basket containing white bread made from wheat and coarse salt.

“Hmm…”

Viktor took a piece of bread, dipped it in salt, and began eating. After finishing one, he handed salt-dipped bread to each of his party members for them to eat as well.

This was one of the hospitality customs of the Hyacinth continent, where white bread made from wheat and clean salt represented the utmost sincerity toward guests.

As the leader of the group, Viktor demonstrated that he would stay in this city as a “guest,” and that the other party members had also come as “guests.”

To Donald, the “host,” and the other nine council members.

“Is this that salt bread thing?”

“Well… it is salt and bread.”

Ignoring Lucia and Kasia’s quiet voices, another girl approached Viktor with a large bottle of apple brandy.

Feeling sorry for the small girl stretching her arms to hold a bottle that seemed to weigh half her body weight, Viktor quickly took it, poured some into the cup that doubled as a lid, gave it to his wife, and then drank some himself.

He then passed the bottle to Simon, the eldest in the group, so the elves and dwarves could also drink.

Drinking alcohol meant becoming intoxicated, and being intoxicated meant being unable to fight—this was a gesture of high trust, indicating that they were entrusting their safety to the host’s intentions.

“It delights me to see our ‘guests’ enjoying our city’s culture so much. A banquet has been prepared, so please come inside.”

“Thank you, Donald.”

As they entered deeper into the palace, they encountered a feast so enormous that all the banquets they had seen before would look like rural home cooking in comparison.

Each plate had stasis fields and automatic heating functions to prevent the food from spoiling or getting cold, and the drinks and beverages cooled with liquid nitrogen emitted white smoke, presenting an enchanting appearance.

“Huh.”

But Viktor wasn’t particularly impressed.

He merely acknowledged that such a spread was possible even in the current era.

As Viktor was literally Nariakira Saburo himself, he naturally retained much of his memories and knew very well how well his descendants (meaning the imperial family) had eaten.

Compared to that… this hospitality of Irshen was quite…

“Crude.”

“…Pardon?”

“No, it’s nothing. Just reminded me of the imperial days.”

“…Ah. I see…”