Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God
Chapter 395 - 334: So It Was Her_1

Chapter 395: Chapter 334: So It Was Her_1

"Sorry, I do not accept this deal," Gaven declined cleanly, "There’s a dispute over your judgment of Weizemay Manor in Battle Valley as lost territory, please consult with Lord Ilmet. It has nothing to do with me."

Gaven stood up to see his guest out, "The Ghost Grape Wine Auction is imminent, and I have a pile of things to do, so I cannot entertain His Grace any longer. As I said before, if you are here to attend the auction, you are most welcome. If you have other intentions, then I am sorry."

Carter’s words were equally resolute, "If Mr. Gaven does not wish to accept our agreement, we reserve the right to reclaim the territory, including the use of force. Please don’t make a mistake."

If the soft approach does not work, they resort to the hard one.

It is the typical way of Sambia.

"I also have the right to protect my territory, including the use of force," Gaven replied calmly.

The barefoot are not afraid of the shod.

He figured that the other party was using Sambia to pressure him, but they too would have considerable reservations about mounting a large-scale military operation.

A slight misstep could stir up a hornet’s nest.

Not only would the entire Valley react, but Komeer and the Santarin Association would not stand idly by either.

They did not want Sambia to swallow the Valley and grow stronger, which was their fundamental national policy.

"You..." Carter’s face finally changed.

This was the first time he had met such a bold young man who simply ignored threats from a nation. Where did he get his confidence from?

"Does His Grace wish to leave on his own, or should I have someone escort you out?" Since they were no longer on friendly terms, Gaven did not bother being polite anymore.

"I will leave on my own," Carter huffed heavily, "You still have half a day to consider. My earlier proposal remains valid until I leave. I hope Mr. Gaven does not make a decision he’ll regret for life."

"No need to wait half a day; I can give you a clear answer now—my decision will not change. Please," Gaven said, his stance unwavering.

Carter left with a bellyful of rage, likely cursing Gaven a thousand times over in his mind, and vowing to make Gaven pay for today’s rejection.

Even if Sambia was constrained by external factors and could not dispatch a large mercenary force,

There were bandits and gangsters everywhere. How hard could it be to take over a territory with barely a thousand people?

Forget those lords; he could think of several means right off the bat.

After sending off the so-called Sambian representative, Gaven was not the least bit disturbed.

Given the greedy nature of Sambia’s wealthy politicians, it was inevitable that conflicts would arise if he wanted to achieve anything here.

Gaven had been mentally prepared for this when he chose Battle Valley as his new territory.

After a deep talk with the Grand Inquisitor of Valon, this notion became even clearer.

Now was simply the time for action.

All he could do now was to respond to each move as it came. It was pointless to fret overmuch.

Compared to this issue, the severe lack of grassroots management personnel was his current biggest headache.

The young soldiers led by Kopofiel were excellent at handling ships on the water, but they were clueless when dealing with merchants, with no sense of direction.

In the end, it was the Half-Elf girls brought by Regina who were a great help.

Half of them were Bards, and the other half were Druids.

Even the Half-Elf Druids were adept at socializing and being charming, not to mention the Bards, who were known as the professionals best at social interaction.

They were more than capable of dealing with most merchants; their management skills were also decent. As long as Gaven explained things clearly, they could execute the tasks quite well.

At this level, Gaven was already more than pleased—how could he dare to ask for more?

They say the big forces and big shots always enter last.

This Ghost Grape Wine Auction was no exception.

The merchants who gathered three days before the auction were mostly small and medium-sized. By the time the auction began, many deals were already finalized. They were not here for the Ghost Grape Wine but to take the opportunity to promote their own goods.

Three days later, the merchants entering the auction were truly heavyweights. Each name could send shivers down one’s spine.

The Santarin Association and Crimson Feather, the two trade overlords of the Moon Sea Region, needed no further mention, for where there was profit, their presence was a certainty.

Even if Gaven had deep grievances with the Santarin Association and loathed them, he couldn’t close the doors on them in such an event, nor could he make any radical moves. The association was engaged in legitimate trade activities.

He did not yet have the strength to openly break with them and engage in outright confrontation.

The Komeer Royal Merchant Association, as the name suggests, served the Komeer royal family. Because it is state-owned, they did not conduct business within Komeer but focused exclusively on international trade.

The Ser External Trade Association was similar in nature, representing the Red Robe Mages of Ser. The trade enclaves Ser held in various countries and cities were established by this association. Originally obscure, they gained terrifying revenues from Ser’s spread of Magic trade, and their influence in Ser has been rising year by year.

The last six chambers of commerce do not require reintroduction; they are the six major city chambers from Sambia.

Clearly, they had also prepared a two-pronged strategy.

It would be best if they could swallow Weizemay Manor and all the Ghost Grape Wine at once, turning a quick profit using Gaven’s early groundwork.

If negotiations failed, they would certainly not forego the benefits that Ghost Grape Wine could bring.

This isn’t just about profit, it also involves market share.

If they give up on Ghost Grape Wine, it’ll mean forfeiting the market share for such high-end wine, and other merchants will sell this wine in Sambia, taking away even more profit from there.

On the last day of the auction, Regina rushed out of Weizemay Manor, dragging Gaven and saying, "Come on, come on, come on, I have someone to introduce to you."

"When do I have the time now? Don’t you see how busy I am?" Gaven’s eyes were slightly red, as he hadn’t closed his eyes for three days and nights, and hadn’t even found an hour or two to space out.

He swore that once this matter was over, he would immediately train a group of outstanding mid- and lower-level management personnel.

Without a group of capable subordinates to run errands during such large-scale events, personally taking care of everything could exhaust a person to death.

If it wasn’t for the sake of money, he would have long since thrown in the towel.

"If you don’t come, don’t regret it later; this lady, she’s not someone you can meet whenever you wish," Regina said, with a look that meant you’d regret it later if you didn’t come and it wouldn’t be her fault.

Lady? Hard to meet normally?

Gaven keenly latched onto the keywords.

Even when Lord Ilmet came to visit, she hadn’t made such a fuss.

Since she’s a bit excited, it must be someone she admires.

Such people are rare to see in the Valley; it couldn’t be one of the few he was thinking about, could it?

Gaven didn’t dare to be negligent and quickly cast a Vigor spell on himself to perk up his spirits.

He followed Regina at a quick pace toward Weizemay Manor.

But halfway there, Regina changed course and didn’t head to the manor; instead, she plunged into the vineyard.

Outside Grape Village, they met the lady Regina mentioned.

Just a silhouette was enough to send a shiver through Gaven’s body, as he involuntarily thought of a name—it was her.

The woman was clad in silver elven chain mail, a light green elf cloak, and a silver headdress that held up her waist-length silver hair, carrying a silver longsword and wearing a delicate little harp statue on her waist, very similar to Regina’s but even more exquisite, likely possessing similar magic effects, but of a more powerful sort.

From afar, she looked well-proportioned, but it wasn’t until he got closer that he realized she was quite tall, taller than most men, and even with Gaven’s heightened stature, he couldn’t look her in the eyes—she was at least 1.85 meters tall, with long, shapely legs full of endless strength.

Her face showed no signs of age, not a single wrinkle, and she had a perfectly shaped oval face with a healthy wheat complexion, slightly pursed lips, and an inner smile, but when you met her gaze, you would find her eyes deeply profound, as though they contained countless stories.

On the purely facial front, she was slightly less stunning than Regina.

But she had an air of valiance and charisma which Regina did not possess.

In her presence, Gaven didn’t feel any overwhelming aura, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought she was just an ordinary person who hadn’t even unlocked a professional template.

But Gaven knew that the opposite was true—it was a return to simplicity only seen among those who had reached high-level legendary status, a mastery of one’s power that locked all strength within the body, wasting none of it.

She was unimaginably powerful, one who could rank in the top fifty throughout Felen.

Even at his peak as a Legendary Warrior, Gaven might not last ten rounds against her.

Because she was Storm Silverhand.

She wore many hats.

She was the illegitimate daughter and one of the Chosen of the second-generation Magic Goddess Mistela, a co-leader of the Harpists’ alliance, the foster daughter and sister-in-law of Irminster, the ender of tyranny in the Valley, the de facto ruler of Shadow Valley, and one of the Seven Sisters.

In Toril, not everyone might have heard of the Seven Sisters, but they certainly knew this ancient and simple nursery rhyme:

Seven brightest stars in the night sky,

Seven pairs of eyes always gazing at me,

Seven splendid, peerless smiles,

Seven pairs of hands, always ready to soothe troubles away.

"Ma’am, I’ve brought him to you; this is the current owner of the land, Gaven Nort," Regina said. Known for her eloquence, she was much more reserved in front of Storm, and her eyes could not hide the admiration, as if looking at her idol.

In the Valley, idolizing Storm was not an unusual affair, especially among girls, three or four out of ten took her as a role model.

Only then did Storm’s gaze shift from studying the fungi on the grapevines to Gaven, and after examining him thoughtfully for a few moments, she said, "You are even younger than I had imagined, and you’ve done very well. In the past month, all I’ve heard are stories about you; you have managed this vineyard exceptionally well, especially in motivating the Fae Race, which is not something everyone can achieve.

If your Ghost Grape Wine is successful, it will open up a new model for agriculture in the Valley."

Just like Gaven had imagined, this legendary lady had a smoky voice tinged with a hint of raspiness, carrying a natural wildness.

However, her manner of speaking was far from the hearty and unrestrained style of the legends.

Seeming to perceive the puzzlement in Gaven’s eyes, Storm’s face flashed with a bit of embarrassment as she waved her hands dismissively, "Forget it, forget it. The set my sister taught me is just not practical. It’s too awkward."

Then Storm, with her long strides, closed the distance to Gaven in a few steps, and gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder, saying, "Young man, you’ve done a good job, and I really like it. We have high hopes for you.

Regina told me your worries, just rest easy. If you just do your job well, and someone dares to cause trouble, I’ll be the first to chop them down."

Storm’s strength was formidable, on a par with August’s, making Gaven’s shoulder sink with each pound.

But this bold action and hearty manner of speaking really matched the legends.