Chief Malik of the Botswana tribe was facing the chiefs of allied tribes.

    Before the aggressive invasions of Nador, they had often exchanged goods, gone to markets together, and traded with Nador’s merchants.

    Because they frequently collaborated, they would greet each other like friends in such gatherings.

    ‘Everyone seems to be stressed due to the Nador folks.’

    Looking around, I noticed that several chiefs from tribes they had previously been close with were missing.

    They must have been raided and enslaved by the Nador people.

    After a lengthy silence, one chief asked in an irritated tone.

    “Why have you called us here? Surely you aren’t just calling us to suggest that we join hands and fight against those wicked Nador people.”

    Everyone here would agree that the allied tribes must unite to drive out the Nador folks.

    Thus, last time, twelve tribes, including the Botswana tribe, banded together to confront Nador''s 7,000-strong army.

    Numerically, the allied tribes had the advantage, but faced with the durability of matchlocks and iron armor, they suffered a miserable defeat.

    Malik and everyone present had not forgotten that fact.

    ‘There’s no chance of winning against those monstrous beings in a direct confrontation.’

    “Frankly speaking, fighting those demons head-on is futile. So, please refrain from making foolish statements about needing to unite and fight again.”

    At his words, the atmosphere in the room became even more somber.

    Everyone had agreed to form the alliance and fight, so no one could point fingers at anyone else.

    However, a defeat is a defeat, and the hundreds of warriors slaughtered in the barrage of matchlocks would never return.

    Among them, only Malik stood tall, exuding confidence.

    “Before I bring up what I want to discuss, let me show you this first.”

    Malik opened a wooden box that he had brought in.

    The chiefs gasped in shock at what they saw.

    “Isn’t that the gun used by the demons?” “Where did you get this? The Nador merchants said they wouldn’t sell anything like this.” “Even for gold, they said they wouldn’t sell it...”

    No matter how obsessed the Nador merchants were with making money, they all believed in the Mahabad religion.

    While they might trade with heathens, they had never sold their key strategic weapon, matchlocks, to the indigenous tribes of western Ifriqiya, who were their adversaries and considered heretics.

    Malik proudly held the matchlock in his hands.

    “The chief of the Granada Kingdom, a very large tribe, has offered to sell us these. He said he would sell as many as we want.”

    Everyone was in disbelief.

    While they were incredibly grateful for being offered such a precious and powerful weapon, they couldn’t help but wonder why they would sell matchlocks to them.

    The chiefs, who believed that there must always be a reason for something given for free, felt even more wary.

    “This is ridiculous. Why would they offer to sell us such a powerful weapon?” “I heard that the Granada Kingdom had fierce wars with those wicked people until just decades ago.”

    Honestly, Malik didn’t have a clear understanding of who the Granada Kingdom was.

    By the way, it’s been over the promised week, and it’s about to reach ten days—why hasn’t the Botswana chief come?

    Could something have happened?

    If problems arise, I would have to find another tribe and head south along the coast.

    No, given the food situation, I should return to Toscana via the Granada Kingdom.

    As I pondered the preparations for the future, the Botswana chief approached me, bringing along several other chiefs.

    “Sorry for being late. But these guys have all decided to buy thousands of matchlocks, so please understand.”

    Matchlocks surprisingly have good liquidity.

    This is because they are difficult to make; in this era, matchlocks aren’t produced in standardized factories, leading to frequent ‘breakdowns.’

    To exaggerate slightly, the Albanian continent is in a state of constant war, where demand exceeds supply.

    So, if they didn’t sell here, I had planned to wait a while and then supply them to another division.

    ‘Could it be that all of them are selling out?’

    “How many do you all intend to buy?” “Altogether, 3,000. They say if they test the effectiveness later and find it good, they will buy more.”

    3,000 matchlocks, which translates to about 60 kilograms of gold.

    Though 60 kilograms of gold may seem small, converting it to gold coins would exceed 15,000.

    The cost of 3,000 matchlocks, bullets, and gunpowder is around 5,000 gold coins, so this time, I would gain 10,000 gold coins.

    ‘If I sell the lion skins or ivory received as part of the payment to the nobles, the profit margin will skyrocket, right?’

    Considering that this is the early stage of trade and the market is small...

    If I happen to discover a new continent here, wouldn’t I be able to easily dominate the merchants?

    “I will sell them all. And as promised, I will return 1.2 kilograms of gold.” “That’s unnecessary. Thanks to you, it seems I can become a king.”

    “Are you planning to go to war?”

    Chief Botswana smiled at me.

    “If I succeed in driving away the Nador folks, I’ll need to draw more people under my wing. If they refuse to join me...”

    What we often misunderstand about the Black trade is that Europeans allegedly exploited Black people unilaterally.

    However, if we delve into the truth, it was widely accepted that, in the early days of the Age of Exploration, trade involved Black chieftains wielding matchlocks to conquer other tribes and sell slaves...

    Could it turn out that way here as well?

    “I wish you the best; that way, I can also expand my business.”

    After concluding the deal, I immediately headed back home.

    On the way back, I thought of a surname to symbolize the path I must take and my determination for the future.

    Well, in fact, it was derived from a certain family’s surname...

    But it aligns with the direction I must aim for now.

    “Baron Medici would be nice, but Baron Rothschild also sounds good.”