Chapter 190 Let’s Talk…
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Salt is likely one of the most essential nutrients humanity ever encountered. Our ancestors, during their hunter-gatherer days, obtained enough salt from the organs and marrow of their prey, so there was no need for additional supplementation.
It wasn’t until the dawn of agriculture, when humans began producing their own food, that the demand for salt emerged. Its history is long—Europe boasts rock salt mines dating back to around 1000 BCE.
By the time civilizations like Egypt and Mesopotamia thrived, salt was already in common use. In ancient Greece, it was considered a shared resource, exchanged as a symbol of friendship or used in purification rituals, much like in Japan. Ancient Egyptians used salt not just for food, but in mummification and other practices.
Interestingly, ancient Rome shared a similar philosophy. Salt was exchanged to symbolize friendship and was always present at banquets. Guests were expected to bring containers—shells or silver salt holders—to receive salt; failing to do so could imply a lack of goodwill and provoke conflict. Thus, in Rome, salt became intertwined with etiquette.
High-ranking Roman officials and military officers even received a salt allowance, the etymological root of the word “salary.” The great river civilizations also shared a common feature: proximity to salt sources like seas, salt lakes, or rock deposits, which was crucial for their prosperity. The Inca civilization, straddling Peru and Bolivia near the Salar de Uyuni, reinforces this point.
To transport salt safely from production sites, towns and roads were maintained by influential figures, emphasizing the commodity’s importance. In ancient Rome, nobles ensured the population had access to salt or distributed “common salt” to curry favor—efforts that highlight the challenges of controlling such a vital resource.
Since ancient times, acquiring salt has been arduous. In China, for example, the so-called “Dead Sea of China” in Shanxi Province saw decades of disputes over salt rights, as documented in historical records. Salt has always been highly valued, sometimes equal in worth to gold. The Kingdom of Ghana even traded salt and gold extensively.
Because of its economic significance, many nations instituted salt monopolies. Korea maintained a state-controlled salt policy from the 900s until 1446. In British-ruled India, Mahatma Gandhi famously led the Salt March to protest colonial salt taxes. In Japan, from the Ritsuryō period onward, salt was collected as part of taxes, and during the Edo period, domain monopolies provided a vital revenue source—Akō Domain being a notable example. During the Meiji era, the government eventually instituted a salt monopoly from 1905 to help fund the Russo-Japanese War after fierce opposition to direct taxation.
China implemented a similar system under Guan Zhong, establishing iron and salt officials; from the early Han period onward, salt monopolies persisted for over 2,000 years, continuing even today under state-owned enterprises. Historically, abuse of this system provoked famous rebellions, such as those led by Guan Yu and Huang Chao, who had backgrounds as salt smugglers.
In ancient Rome, although monopolies were not formalized, authorities manipulated salt prices to fund military expenses. Salt’s history is, in many ways, a bloody one.
Likely, the situation in this world is no different. Today, Ayumu traveled to the neighboring State Capital Livonia, home of Duke Ralka, who held the salt monopoly, to obtain permission for local salt production. Keldan’s salt consumption is enormous. Currently, the region produces drinking water using brine processed via ion-exchange membranes and chlorine generated alongside sodium hydroxide, and industrial production of sodium carbonate for glass using methods like the Solvay Process also requires vast quantities of salt. Salt is also indispensable for food, medicine, soap, and leather tanning.
Despite attempts to purchase or request additional production from Livonia, demand still exceeds supply.
”Of course, we will only produce as much salt as Keldan consumes. Our efforts will not threaten Duke Ralka’s revenue. Rivalry among high nobles is foolish…”
”If national power declines due to this, it would not only worsen the emperor’s perception but also give enemies openings, leading to everyone’s ruin.”
”We intend to cooperate with Duke Ralka in Livonia to ensure mutual economic prosperity.”
When Ayumu met with the duke’s attendants, he explained how seriously he valued economic cooperation without threatening the duke’s interests. Duke Ralka listened intently, never once showing doubt.
His trust likely stemmed from Ayumu’s proven track record: rebuilding slums, crushing criminals, and protecting Livonia from threats, earning a reputation for reliability. Impressed by Ayumu’s logical reasoning, Duke Ralka granted permission for salt production despite the importance of the monopoly.
”Truly? Thank you! Your understanding is remarkable, Your Grace! I will sign the pledge immediately. While I live, I will never threaten your salt rights in Livonia—I promise!”
Though frail and appearing ragged, Duke Ralka was by no means incompetent. Despite being mocked as the “incompetent duke” for misguided policies, he had excelled in economic reform after Yugan’s collapse, reducing tolls among nobles to foster cooperation, helping establish the Yugan Free Cities League under Emperor Yuri. Unlike other bloated, arrogant nobles, Duke Ralka carried a certain gravitas.Ayumu liked the dignified air Duke Ralka carried—it suggested a man of character. He felt confident he could work well with him.
Later, the duke’s wife appeared. “Oh… you must be the Special Honorary Count? Ever since my husband spoke of you, I’ve wanted to meet you,” she said with a practiced smile. Ayumu replied politely, “Is that so? I hope it’s nothing troubling, madam,” while secretly noting how young she looked for her age—around her forties, he guessed.
The meeting with the duke and his wife was cordial from start to finish. They shared coffee, and conversation flowed easily.
”You’ve done well to make your improved crops and fruits widely available… we, and even the minor nobles, are very impressed,” Duke Ralka complimented.
In truth, the situation was more complicated. The minor nobles, largely aligned with the economic faction, had begun cultivating crops and fruits that matured in just a month. How they managed it was unclear, though Ayumu suspected bribery or other dubious methods. He hadn’t personally developed the varieties alone, and as long as total yields increased, he had chosen to overlook their methods.
Since these crops relied on chemical fertilizers, Ayumu had recently been instructing locals on how to produce organic fertilizers and advising fallow periods to prevent nutrient depletion, not out of a desire for thanks but to protect the land. Yet, some nobles seemed to resent him, perhaps jealous of his success, viewing him as a threat to their position.
Given this tension, Ayumu sought Duke Ralka’s counsel. “Your Grace, I must consult you—some minor nobles are making unreasonable claims against me, and I’m at a loss. Could you intervene?”
Duke Ralka frowned. “I’m aware… I can speak to my own faction’s nobles, but these are Minor Nobles’ League members, correct? I’m not sure they’ll listen…”
Ayumu was taken aback. Apparently, the nobles he thought belonged to the economic faction were actually part of a new group, the Minor Nobles’ League, formed by local minor nobles who refused to be absorbed by either the war or economic factions. They prioritized economic prosperity in their lands, disregarding their citizens, and weren’t necessarily aligned with the war faction either.
Violence among nobles of the same country had to be avoided, but when even Duke Ralka had limits, Ayumu felt at a dead end.
Before he could dwell on this, the duchess interjected. Though Ayumu felt the issue was far from trivial, he listened.
To his shock, she said, “Lady Eclea from the Imperial Court is home on leave. You’re unmarried, yes? Perhaps my daughter would suit you—she’s very lovely.”
Ayumu nearly lost it. “What?! You dare challenge me at my own home base?!! No, I’m not ready to marry—I still want… women—if I go along with this, I’ll be married!!!”
He quickly protested, stammering, “N-no! Someone like me, an ugly man, is unworthy of a beauty like Lady Eclea!!!”
”Sanai, what’s wrong? You don’t dislike Eclea, do you?”
Ayumu’s panic escalated when even Duke Ralka’s silent pressure weighed on him. “Ahhh!! My chronic illness!! I must return at once, or I’ll trouble Your Grace!!!”
”Then let my daughter help you recover,” the duchess offered kindly.
”N-no! Thanks to your generosity, my poor health has improved! Perhaps I only felt unwell by mistake? Ahhh!! Speaking of which, I just recalled the urgent matter entrusted by Your Majesty—please excuse me, I must take my leave immediately!!!”
Without giving the Duke family a moment to take offense, Ayumu hurried back to his estate, employing an outrageous and utterly shocking strategy to make a swift escape.
Notes:
• Eclea – Efficient, no-nonsense attendant to Empress Sarendra. All business, little small talk. First appear in chapter 182.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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