Chief Malik of the Botswana tribe was face-to-face with the chiefs of his allied tribes.
Before the aggressive invasion of Nador, they often exchanged goods and even traded with Nador’s merchants at the market.
Because they frequently worked together, they used to greet each other warmly like friends at such gatherings. However,
“Everyone seems to be on edge because of those Nador bastards.”
Looking around, I noticed that some chiefs I had been close to were missing.
They had probably been taken as slaves, plundered by the Nador creatures.
In the midst of a rather lengthy silence, one chief grumbled irritably, “Why on earth did you call us here? You’re not seriously suggesting we simply unite and fight those evil Nador folks, are you?”
Everyone here would agree on the need for the allied tribes to work together to drive away the Nador.
Therefore, last time, the Botswana tribe and eleven other tribes combined their forces to face Nador’s 7,000-strong army.
Numerically, the allied tribes had the upper hand, but in the face of gunpowder rifles and iron armor’s durability, they suffered a miserable defeat.
Malik, like everyone present, did not forget that fact.
“There is no chance of victory if we fight those monstrous beings head-on.”
“To be frank, there’s no chance of winning if we confront those demons. So please, spare me the foolish talk of uniting to fight again.”
His words deepened the somber atmosphere in the room.
They couldn’t blame anyone specifically since everyone had agreed to unite and fight.
However, a defeat is a defeat; the hundreds of warriors slaughtered by the volley of gunfire would not return.
Among them, only Malik held his chest out with an air of confidence.
“Before I share what I want to say, let me show you this.”
Malik opened a wooden chest he had brought in.
The chiefs were taken aback.
“Isn’t that the gun used by demons?”
“Where on earth did you find this? The Nador merchants said they wouldn’t sell something like this.”
“They said they wouldn’t sell it for any amount of gold…”
No matter how crazed Nador merchants were for money, everyone believed in the Mahbad religion.
They would trade with heathens but wouldn’t sell the core strategic weapon of Nador, the gunpowder rifle, to the local tribes of the western Ifriqiya, who were deemed hostile and heretical.
Malik brandished the rifle proudly.
“A chief from the Kingdom of Granada, a rather large tribe, has offered to sell this to us. He said he’ll sell as many as we want.”
Everyone was flabbergasted.
It was indeed a relief for them to be offered such a valuable and powerful weapon, but why would they sell it to us?
The chiefs couldn’t help but feel suspicious, as they believed there was always a reason behind something being offered for free.
“This is ridiculous. Why would they want to sell this powerful weapon to us?”
“I heard that the Kingdom of Granada also waged fierce wars against those evil beings until a few decades ago.”
Honestly, even Malik didn’t quite understand what sort of beings the Kingdom of Granada were.
But if they shared the same enemy, they could trust them.
“They must want to take down the Nador creatures too, so they can sleep peacefully.”
“So it seems they’re hoping to prevent the Nador from growing stronger and want us to keep fighting them.”
Everyone felt a bit dirty, thinking they might be manipulated.
Even though they felt used, they had no choice but to accept the proposal.
To survive and maintain their ordinary lives with their families, they needed the rifles and gunpowder.
“To consider profiting from having others bleed for them is downright monstrous.”
The idea that they would charge money for items that allow them to spill blood on their behalf was simply unacceptable.
“They’re willing to sell gunpowder rifles and ammunition in abundance. We should be able to buy as much as we need.”
Malik looked around at everyone and spoke.
“Honestly, what makes the Nador so strong? Isn’t it because of those damn rifles? Without them, they would be weak compared to us.”
Nador’s soldiers were mostly black slaves, worthless commoners, and peasants.
Those who had never held a spear in their lives wouldn’t make good soldiers.
In contrast, the Botswana tribe and those present were daily hunters of lions, zebras, and buffalo.
Of course, their quality as soldiers would be much higher, specialized in hunting beasts.
“So let’s form an alliance once again and face those evil creatures. And if we win… how about continuing this alliance?”
The local tribes were not ignorant; they weren’t entirely clueless, either.
Once the army was formed, a leader would naturally rise to take command, essentially becoming the chief of chiefs.
Among those present, Malik was the most likely candidate.
Though it wasn’t appealing for someone to stand above them as the chief of a tribe, they couldn’t risk losing their lives and the lives of their people over an ego.
Everyone unanimously agreed with his proposal.
“I agree.”
“The one selling the rifles is among our Botswana tribe. He accepts gold, lion skins, and ivory, so let’s gather as much as we can.”
Having said that, Malik smiled broadly.
The more they bought rifles, the more profit it would bring him…
“If this alliance succeeds, I could become a king.”
It might take five or ten years, but being the chief of chiefs—just imagining it was thrilling.
Chris, Chloe, and I found it honestly tough to be in a remote area of this civilization.
The food was unfamiliar, and since they didn’t farm, we had to chew on the local tribes’ food or meat instead of bread.
However, it seemed the sailors, who could eat ‘meat’ every day, were relatively less discontent.
Or perhaps it was because the longer they stayed here, the more their bonuses increased.
“Anyway, thank you all for hanging in there.”
By the way, it’s now past the promised week and approaching ten days—why hasn’t Chief Botswana shown up yet?
Could something have happened?
If a problem arises, we would have to find another tribe and travel south along the coastline.
No, we would likely need to pass through the Kingdom of Granada and return to Tuscany due to the food issue.
As I pondered future contingency plans, Chief Botswana approached me, leading other chiefs.
“Sorry for being late. But you see, they all agreed to purchase thousands of rifles, so please understand.”
The rifles surprisingly had good liquidity.
This is because they were hard to make; the rifles of this era weren’t produced in standardized factories, and they frequently broke down.
To exaggerate a bit, wars never ceased on the Albania Continent, resulting in demand outpacing supply.
So if they didn’t sell here, I planned to hold onto them for a time and pass them on to another division for military supply.
“Are they all going to sell?”
“Together, 3,000 rifles. They plan to test the effectiveness later and purchase more if they’re satisfied.”
3,000 rifles, which translates to 60kg of gold.
While 60kg of gold doesn’t seem like much, it’s over 15,000 gold coins when converted to gold coins.
The cost for the 3,000 rifles, bullets, and gunpowder was about 5,000 gold coins, meaning the profit this time would be 10,000 gold coins.
“Perhaps selling the lion skins and ivory given as part of the payment to the nobles would increase the profit margins even more, right?”
Moreover, considering that this is still the early stage of trade when the market is small…
What if they discover a new continent here? Wouldn’t the merchants just be overwhelmed?
“I’ll sell everything. And as promised, I’ll return 1.2kg of gold.”
“I don’t need that. Thanks to you, I feel I can become a king as well.”
“Are you planning to start a war?”
Chief Botswana grinned at me.
“If I succeed in driving out the Nador creatures, I’ll need to bring more people under my command. If anyone refuses to join me…”
What we commonly misunderstand about the black trade is that Europeans exploited blacks unilaterally.
However, if you peel back the layers, it was widely accepted that during the early Age of Discovery, it was the black tribe chiefs armed with rifles who conquered other tribes and sold them into slavery…
Would it happen like that here too?
“I hope it all goes well, because that way, I can do some big business too.”
After wrapping up the deal, I returned home straight away.
On the way back, I thought about the path I needed to take ahead and the resolve to give my family a surname.
Well, truthfully, it was inspired by some clan’s surname…
But it aligns with the direction I need to aim for now.
“While the Medici Baron is nice, the Rothschild Baron sounds pretty good too.”
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