Game of Thrones: Holy Flame King

  Chapter 162 Territory matters

   呲味味味—Puff!

  Samwell looked at the "firework" in front of him, and the corners of his mouth twitched a few times.

  Bachelor Keben rarely blushed, coughed lightly, and said:

"My lord, at present, it can only do so much. Although the power is not as great as you said, it is still a relatively good kind of igniter. Although it is not as good as [Wildfire], it is better than creating Convenient and inexpensive."

  Samwell sighed, but didn't criticize too much.

  In order to prevent the Bachelor of Science from being unable to fiddle with in vivo experiments, he set up a research topic for the other party - black powder.

  Of course, his own knowledge in this area is actually at the level of a keyboard warrior.

  Bachelor Keben really made black powder according to the specious tips given by Samwell, it is power...

  It’s similar to fireworks, it can only be used as a decent igniter.

   It is still far from the big killer on the battlefield.

   Fortunately, Samwell didn’t hold out much hope. Without a system and without knowledge, it was too difficult for him to climb the technology tree. With this skill, it’s better to build a dragon.

   It's time to get a dragon, Samwell suddenly thought, after all, Red Comet's time is coming soon.

  However, this research still needs to continue, no matter how bad it is, it will give Bachelor Coben something to do.

"Well, it's not bad." Samwell encouraged, "you can continue to research, the ratio of gunpowder can be adjusted, and see if you can come up with a more powerful formula. Also, you can study how to create a confined space , so perhaps the power of the explosion can be even greater.”

  Bachelor Coburn nodded thoughtfully: "Yes, my lord."

  Samwell looked at the pensive Bachelor Coburn, and suddenly felt that maybe one day this person could really surprise him.

  After all, this guy can even make a cyborg, so he might be able to take out a TNT one day.

  Leaving the Bachelor's Tower, Samwell came to the first floor hall of the castle, where a dozen brightly dressed businessmen were already sitting.

  When they saw the baron enter the door, they quickly stood up and saluted.

   "Sit down, gentlemen." Samwell waved his hand and came to the main seat to sit.

  The maid filled the wine glass in front of him, then walked lightly to the side.

  Samwell took a sip from his glass and said:

   "Gentlemen, I know that you are all well-known grape merchants, so I invite you to discuss a big deal."

  A chubby businessman said: "Master Baron, I heard that you want to buy fresh grapes, right?"

   "Yes." Samwell nodded.

There is no way, the grapes in the territory grow too slowly, but brandy has already become famous in Westeros at this time, and Arbor Island, Old Town, and Highgarden have sent letters many times to urge him to speed up production. Earl Leighton Hightower let go of his rhetoric, saying that he would accept as much as he wanted.

  But Yingzui Island's brandy production is severely limited.

  Although there is no shortage of labor in the territory, and the manufacture of distillation equipment is not a problem, there is a shortage of raw materials for brewing.

  The grapes planted on a large scale have not yet matured, and at present, it seems that Samwell still underestimated the enthusiasm of the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms for brandy, and the previously planned planting area is still too conservative.

   Therefore, he can only solve the shortage of raw materials by purchasing grapes.

  Although the cost will increase in this way, fortunately, there is still money to be made.

  As long as there is something to earn, why hesitate.

   "I need a lot of fresh grapes. Currently, it is tentatively set at 50,000 pounds per month. This number will increase in the future, so I need a stable partner." After speaking, Samwell slowly swept across the audience.

  The merchants all showed surprise and greedy expressions.

   THIS IS A BIG SALE!

   "My Lord Baron! The grapes on our Arbor Island are the best in Westeros! Choose us, you will never regret it!"

   "Master Baron, the grapes in our wine hall are the best quality and cheapest!"

   "Master Baron, the grapes in our Golden Tree City are picked by the girls themselves!"

  …

  Samwell smiled and pressed his hands, stopping everyone's yelling:

"Everyone sitting here has already passed the preliminary screening. The quality and yield of the grapes must meet my requirements. However, because I want to find a long-term stable partner this time, there are some additional requirements. "

   "My lord, just tell me!"

   "Okay." Samwell straightened his face, and his tone became serious, "First of all, since it is a long-term cooperation, I require the payment to be settled every six months."

   "Half a year?"

  Businessmen immediately talked about it.

  Of course they understand that this is equivalent to having to purchase half a year's grape production with their own money.

   This is not a small amount.

   "Yes, it is settled every six months. If anyone has any objections to this, they can quit now." Samwell said lightly, picked up his glass and took another sip.

  When he put down his wine glass, he saw that there was no shortage of people on the field.

   After all, with such a big benefit, what if the settlement is done every half a year.

  And now Samwell Caesar is considered a little famous, and businessmen are willing to take some risks for him.

   "Very good, it seems that you still believe in my reputation." Samwell smiled slightly and waved to the maid behind him, "I only plan to choose three partners this time, but how to choose these three..."

   Waiting for the maid to deliver a piece of parchment to each merchant, Samwell continued:

   "Please write down your supply prices on paper. At that time, I will choose three partners based on your prices. Please note that you only have one chance to bid."

  Hearing this, the merchants froze for a moment, and then their faces changed.

   "Quiet!" Samwell interrupted before they could speak, "This process must not speak. Let's begin."

  The merchants were like ducks whose necks had been strangled, but they were frightened by the authority of the lord, so they could only sigh and lower their heads, looking at the parchment in their hands, falling into hesitation.

  Of course they understood the plan of the young lord, which was to let them undercut each other.

  But although I understand, there is nothing I can do about it.

   While secretly cursing how the **** baron would come up with such a bad idea, he gritted his teeth and wrote down his lowest price.

  After the maid collected the parchments, Samwell removed the two bids that were obviously too low, and then took out the three with the lowest bids from the rest, and handed them to Gavin.

   Gavin immediately read the names of the three merchants above.

  The businessman whose name was read had a complicated expression. He was happy that he had won the order, but he also began to wonder if his quotation just now was too low...

  As for those whose names were not pronounced, they all showed disappointment.

  Sam Welllang said:

"Very good. Next, my manager will sign the supply contracts with these three companies. As for the rest of the gentlemen, although the sale cannot be made, you are still friends of Yingzui Islet. I will present each of you with a barrel of brandy. As a reward for your travels here."

  The merchants' faces softened a little, and they all praised the lord's generosity.

   After explaining a few words to Gavin, Samwell turned and left the hall.

  As soon as he went out, he saw a middle-aged man in a monk's robe walking towards him.

   "Master Caesar, I am the servant of the Seven Gods, Ivan."

   Sure enough, it’s still here.

  People from the Church of the Seven Gods.

   "Brother Ivan." Samwell squeezed out a polite smile, "Did you just arrive today?"

   "I arrived half a month ago. During this period of time, I inspected your territory. I just returned to Yingzui Island today."

   "Okay, I hope you enjoy your life here." Samwell said casually before preparing to leave.

  Unfortunately, Brother Ivan obviously does not intend to let him go so easily: "Lord Caesar, I need your help."

   "What help." Samwell said patiently.

"I have to say, Sir Caesar, your territory is expanding at an unprecedented speed, but because of this, I'm afraid you have overlooked a serious problem. Those savages, who believe in all kinds of messy false gods, are devout to you Defilement is a blasphemy against the Seven Gods."

  Samwell glanced at the monk expressionlessly, and said lightly:

"Your Excellency Ivan, let me just tell you straight. When I first recruited these savages, I promised them that I would not force them to change their beliefs. It is precisely because of this that my territory can grow at such a fast speed. Develop and grow. So, if you want me to issue a decree and force the unification of beliefs, sorry, please forgive me for not being able to break the oath I made before."

   "Master Caesar, I did not ask you to issue such a decree." Brother Ivan said with a smile.

  Samwell was slightly surprised: "Then what do you want?"

"My request is very simple. First, you must build a church dedicated to the Seven Gods in your territory and allow me to spread the gospel of the Seven Gods freely. Second, you must attend church services regularly. Third, you must Pay the donation regularly according to the standard, of course, if you want to contribute more, the Seven Gods will give you more."

   After listening silently, Samwell suddenly felt that the conditions of this monk were really not too much. These are the most basic requirements.

  Except for the northern border, which lord's territory does not have a church? And what knight does not attend church regularly?

   As for donations, the standard for a baron is ten silver stags per month.

  It's really not a burden for Samwell.

   Originally, he was worried that people from the church would grab his braids and make some excessive demands.

  Samwell glanced at the monk before he noticed a small lantern hanging around his neck.

  Each monk will dedicate himself to a certain form of the Seven Gods, and the lantern is a symbol of the old woman.

  It seems that this Brother Ivan may have really inherited the wisdom of the old woman.

   "As long as you don't force my people to believe in the Seven Gods, I can agree to these conditions." Samwell actually doesn't want to have conflicts with the church, and it would be best if he could get along peacefully.

"Of course not. Faith can never be forced. What is forced is definitely not piety." Ivan showed a vicissitudes of life smile, "Lord Caesar, as long as you allow me to preach in your territory, I believe that one day, your The citizens will spontaneously gather under the light of the Seven Gods."

  Samwell pouted secretly, noncommittal.

  Just as he was secretly glad that he had passed the test of the church, he heard Brother Ivan say again:

   "By the way, Lord Caesar, there is one more request I hope you can agree to."

"Tell me."

   "I want to enlighten the children in the orphanage."

  Samwell took a deep look at the monk, but shook his head and said:

   "Thank you for your kindness. However, I have arranged for someone to enlighten the children."

  Ivan smiled slightly, but he didn't bother, just nodded his head.

  (end of this chapter)