I Became My Elf King Character In A Game-Like World
Chapter 59: Haggling with a King

Chapter 59: Haggling with a King

Lyanna stood her ground, her chin lifted with quiet defiance. No matter how striking Renjiro’s features were—those sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes—he wasn’t her man, and she’d be damned if she let him snatch her gold mine for a pittance.

"Your Majesty, Elf King," she said, her voice steady as she met his gaze across the shimmering throne room, "our merchant guild once brought in a dwarf master to survey that mine. He swore it holds enough ore to get fifteen million gold coins. Even after the costs—mining, workers, wagons—it’s still worth twelve million. At least." She shook her head, her hair catching the light. Her message was unmistakable: she wasn’t budging.

Renjiro lounged on his throne, his expression smooth as polished stone. "Let’s be practical, Lady Lyanna," he said, his tone calm but edged with steel.

"First, that mine sits in the Mountains. Forget the old tales of a dragon spirit lurking there—it’s right on the beast clan’s border. Orc raids could hit any day, and no one’s promising safety. Second, it’s so far from here. Bandits, stormsetc... anything could derail your ore on the way. Third, only your city capital can mint gold coins. Try it anywhere else, and you’re a criminal. So, you’d have to sell the raw ore to them, and trust me, they won’t pay a coin for it." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting. "With those risks alone, I’d peg that mine at eight million. No more."

Lyanna pressed her fingers to her forehead, smoothing the tension creeping into her skin.

She felt like Gorren, the great mage, must have when he’d faced Renjiro’s relentless logic—like she was drowning in quicksand with no way out.

"Your Majesty," she said, exhaling a weary breath, "I can’t argue your points. If we take your estimate, fine—eight million it is. That still means your offer of six million falls short by two. Or, if we trade goods, we’d owe you just one million four hundred thousand to balance it." Her voice held firm, but inside, she braced herself.

Renjiro’s lips twitched, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "You haven’t started digging yet, though, have you? And I’m guessing it’s not just bad timing."

Lyanna’s stomach tightened. She forced a neutral smile, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "The Ironcrest Merchant Guild simply hasn’t found the perfect moment to break ground. That’s all there is to it."

Renjiro’s smile widened, warm but sharp, like a blade wrapped in silk. "Huh Lady Lyanna, friends should speak the truth to each other."

Her eyebrow flicked upward. Friends? If this was friendship, she’d take solitude any day. Before stepping into elf territory, Gorren had pulled her aside, his voice low and urgent:

"Watch out for this Elf King. He’s not the same anymore. Bold, gold-hungry—some whisper he’s got a dragon’s soul in him." She’d laughed it off then, but now, staring into Renjiro’s gleaming eyes, she half-believed it. Maybe a dragon did lurk beneath that regal facade.

"Your Majesty," she said, keeping her tone even, "I’m being straight with you. It’s just timing, nothing more."

"Is it?" Renjiro’s voice was soft, almost playful. "The Goddess whispered to me just now. She says that mine’s crawling with a kobold tribe. Between your word and her oracle, I’m inclined to trust the divine oracle."

Lyanna’s jaw dropped. "What?"

Beside her, Gorren blinked, his bushy brows shooting up in disbelief. The Goddess—revered by every elf in the realm—had time to gossip about kobolds? Was she bored up there in her divine realm?

Lyanna’s shock lingered, her mouth half-open as she processed it. The idea of a goddess meddling in a trade deal was absurd, but Renjiro’s calm certainty stopped her cold. He wasn’t bluffing.

The mine was overrun with kobolds—she’d known it before she arrived, a detail she’d hoped to keep buried. Renjiro couldn’t have scouted that far ahead.

Which meant... the Goddess really had told him. What kind of king had a hotline to the heavens over something this petty?

Nearby, Elaria, Renjiro’s advisor, widened her eyes for a split second before masking her surprise. She thought to herself, ’His Majesty’s blessed beyond measure. Summoning elves from the divine realm, wielding godly artifacts—chatting with the Goddess is just another day for him.’

Renjiro leaned back, folding his hands. "With kobolds in the mix, I’d say that mine’s worth six million. Take it or leave it."

Lyanna let out a dry, bitter laugh. She’d haggled with the best merchants across the Continent, but this Elf King? He’d taken a twelve-million-coin treasure and carved it down to six with a few smooth sentences.

She couldn’t help but admire the sheer audacity. If he ever ditched the crown for a merchant’s apron, he’d have guilds begging to serve him, and dragons shedding scales to pay his prices.

"If I sell the ore to the capital," she countered, grasping at her last straw, "I’d still squeeze out more than six million."

Renjiro’s gaze didn’t waver. "Sure. And all this—goods, silver, magic cores, gems, even that juicy magical beast corpse—would slip through your fingers to some other guild in the city."

Lyanna’s shoulders slumped. "Your Majesty," she said, a wry smile tugging at her lips, "you’ve got me. You win."

She’d fought hard, but he’d outsmarted her. With four million gold coins in her space ring and the Ironcrest Guild’s coffers nearly dry, she needed his goods—plus a steady alliance with the elves. She sighed and pulled a gleaming stone from her ring, its surface pulsing faintly with magic. "The mine’s location is locked in here."

Elaria stepped forward, her robes whispering against the floor. "Hand it over." She took the stone, her mind brushing over it like a breeze, then nodded to Renjiro. "It’s genuine. The coordinates check out."

Renjiro’s face lit up with a victorious grin. "Lady Lyanna, here’s to a brighter partnership ahead!"

"As you wish," she replied, her smile tight and forced. He was the one beaming—she felt like she’d just handed over her soul.

Renjiro rose from his throne, his movements graceful as he stepped into the hall. "Come with me," he said, glancing back at her. "I know you’re dying to see that magical beast corpse."

Lyanna hurried after him, her pulse quickening. He wasn’t wrong. A beast like that, even dead, was a goldmine of its own. Its magic core alone could craft gear that’d spark a bidding war at the city auction. For all her losses today, at least she’d walk away with something worth more.