"Normal. Disasters reduce yields; inflation's a factor," Ronan said, letting wheat grains slip through his fingers like sand. "But it doesn't affect us. Prices reflect macroeconomic factors; this country isn't doing well." He looked at Frieren. "You elves are isolated; don't worry. In a century or millennium, even the country's name might change."
Frieren felt a tug of discomfort at Ronan's casual assessment. She understood inflation and natural disasters, but the market felt off, unsettling. It made her question how much was truly changeable, and how much was inevitable.
"Still, I'm concerned. You're the Hero; can't you help them?" she asked, frustrated. She looked at the strained faces of merchants. Could Ronan simply fix things? It seemed logical, yet a deeper complexity eluded her.
"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?"
Frieren was silent, processing this harsh truth. If merchants left, citizens would suffer even more. Even with Ronan's power, some things were beyond control. The question was whether fighting this battle, one with a predetermined outcome, was worth it. He'd seen this cycle countless times.
Frieren's silence spoke of 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 kindness or compassion , it was long-term sustainability. They needed a change to the structure of their lives, not a temporary fix.
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 limits. Direct purchase and low-price distribution won't work."
He paused. He'd learned that empathy's limits were real. It was like patching a hole in a boat with cloth; the hole would grow larger. The bigger issue was the system itself. Until that changed, nothing would improve. The market would always swing back.
Frieren looked up. "Then what?"
Ronan smiled. "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'd done good deeds before, but life was worthless in the face of greed. He wouldn't let merchants profit off suffering. This wasn't about money or kindness , it was about understanding limits. Giving out money or grain was a stopgap. If they didn't change the system, everything would revert. He wouldn't support something temporary.
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