"Normal. Disasters reduce yields; inflation is also a factor," Ronan said, picking up some wheat. The grains slipped through his fingers like sand. "But it doesn't affect us. Prices are based on macroeconomic factors; this country isn't doing well." He looked at Frieren. "You elves are isolated; don't worry about this. In a century or millennium, even the country's name might change."
Frieren glanced at the wheat in his hands, feeling a slight tug of discomfort at the way Ronan spoke so easily about the situation. She understood that the economic factors he mentioned were beyond their control. Inflation and natural disasters weren't new concepts to her, though she'd never really had to face them in such a direct way. But there was something about the way the market functioned here that seemed off—something that made her uneasy. She could feel a disconnect between the world she knew and the one she was currently in. It made her question how much was truly within their power to change, and how much was just… inevitable.
"Still, I'm concerned. You're the Hero; can't you help them?" she asked, her voice filled with quiet frustration. She looked around at the bustling market, noting the strained faces of some of the merchants, the way they desperately called out to potential customers. She wanted to help, but she wasn't sure how. Could Ronan not simply use his abilities to fix things? It felt so simple, so logical, and yet there was a deeper complexity she couldn't quite grasp. She had seen him do incredible things before, but this was different.
"How?" Ronan asked. "Buy all the grain and distribute it? Sell it cheaply? That helps temporarily, but what about later? Grain runs out. When merchants return with high prices…"
He shook his head. "Impossible. If they can't afford it, merchants will leave. Then what?"
He let the question linger in the air for a moment. Frieren was silent, processing the harsh truth of it. There was no easy solution to the problems of this world. If merchants left, it would be the citizens who suffered, as they would be left with even less. The truth stung. Even with all the power Ronan had, there were some things beyond his control, beyond anyone's control. The real question, Ronan realized, was whether it was worth fighting a battle like this, one where the outcome felt predetermined. He had seen that cycle before, in countless places. People struggled, but never really overcame the structures that held them down. Was this society any different?
Frieren fell silent; the answer was starvation. She didn't ask why Ronan wouldn't stay or continue his generosity. Those questions were foolish. Even virtuous elves wouldn't do that; the Buddha's self-sacrifice was just a story. It wasn't a matter of kindness or compassion—it was a matter of long-term sustainability. It was a cycle she had seen before in her studies of human society. Every act of charity, no matter how grand, could only stretch so far before it lost its impact. The reality was that the people needed more than just a temporary fix—they needed something that could change the structure of their lives. Something that could break the cycle of poverty and hunger. But how could that be achieved?
Ronan saw her silence. "Five hundred copper coins is high, but no one will starve. Disrupting the market only accelerates its collapse. I know what you're thinking. You're young, empathetic, but empathy has its place. Direct purchase and low-price distribution won't work."
He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle in. He had learned, over time, that there were limits to what empathy could accomplish. It wasn't that he lacked compassion—it was that he had seen how quickly good intentions could backfire. It was like trying to patch up a hole in a boat with a piece of cloth; the hole would always grow larger. The bigger issue was the system itself, and until that system changed, nothing would really improve. The market would always swing back to its original state, no matter how much they tried to alter it. That was the nature of these kinds of economies—self-correcting, but often at the expense of the most vulnerable.
Frieren looked up, sensing his meaning. "Then what?"
Ronan smiled, glancing behind him. "Not yet. You'll see. And it shouldn't be me."
He lacked the influence to control prices, and didn't want to be a patsy. He had done good deeds before, but had learned that life was worthless in the face of greed. He wouldn't let merchants profit off the suffering of others. His hand hovered for a moment over the coins in his pocket, but he quickly withdrew it. This wasn't about money. It wasn't even about kindness—it was about understanding the limits of what could be achieved. Giving out money, or grain, or food—it was a stopgap solution. If they didn't change the underlying system, everything would go back to the way it was. He wouldn't throw his support behind something that only worked temporarily.
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