WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Ceaseless

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Medieval Heretic King is Too Good at Developing ◈

Chapter 57: Sternberg's Holy Soap

──────

Following Josef, I moved deeper into the workshop, to a relatively quiet office.

Fresh soap samples straight from the workshop lay on the table.

I picked up a bar of ivory-colored apple soap.

Its surface was hard and smooth, and a faint apple scent tickled my nose.

The finish was exquisite enough to draw gasps of admiration from noblewomen anywhere.

"What's the production cost?"

"I've lowered it as much as Your Majesty ordered."

Josef opened the ledger for me.

"We bought the fat discarded by slaughterhouses for next to nothing, and we're recovering all the salt from wastewater for reuse. The only costs are labor, a little firewood, and apple peels discarded by farms."

He shook his head as if he still couldn't believe it.

"This is alchemy, Your Majesty. It's almost like creating something from nothing. To turn a profit even selling it for one groschen..."

"Good. Very good."

I set the soap down with a satisfied smile.

"Important guests will soon arrive in Prague. Merchants from Venice. They'll come swarming like hyenas once they catch the scent of my steel and cannons. But instead of cannons, I intend to show them these fragrant bars."

Venice.

The greedy merchants of the Adriatic.

They monopolized Mediterranean trade and sucked up Europe's wealth, infamous for making enormous profits from luxury goods such as spices, silk, and glassware.

János Hunyadi, who had been listening beside me, tilted his head.

"Your Majesty, are you planning to sell this soap to Venetian merchants? It's certainly a fine product, but I wonder if it's valuable enough to make them give up their desire for cannons."

"That's right. This is only for commoners. A product worth a single groschen can't satisfy those merchants with their noses in the air."

Weapons were good, and soap was good, but what Venetian merchants truly went mad for wasn't simply a fine product.

It was a product no one else could have.

"Josef. Start up another production line."

"Pardon?"

"But the goods we make this time won't be for commoners. Make a luxury product meant only for nobles."

Josef's eyes lit up at the word luxury.

He had once been a craftsman who made luxury goods, after all.

"Don't spare the materials. Grind the soap base three or four times. Knead it again and again until the particles are as fine as flour. Then add generous amounts of Bohemia's finest honey, and use real fragrances, not apple peels or anything like them."

I counted off the items on my fingers.

"Rose oil, lavender, musk. Pour in the most expensive, fragrant materials we can obtain. Don't package it in crude wooden boxes. Wrap it in silk and gold leaf, and stamp the Bohemian royal lion crest onto the soap itself. The moment they see it, commoners should feel too intimidated to even lay a hand on it."

Josef swallowed hard.

"If we make it that way... the production cost will rise considerably."

"It doesn't matter. The base costs almost nothing anyway. Spending a little more on fragrances won't even show."

Leaning back in my chair, I asked, "How much does Castile soap sell for now?"

"Roughly... one Venetian gold ducat. Even then, it's so rare that it's difficult to acquire, even with money."

The Venetian ducat.

A medieval European reserve currency minted from 3.5 grams of 99 percent pure gold.

In the twenty-first century, it held a status no different from the dollar.

"One ducat... At the current exchange rate, that's worth twenty Prague groschen. But nobles buy it believing it's the best because they have no other alternative."

I tapped the table.

"We'll sell ours for half that."

"H-Half? You mean half a gold coin?"

"Yes. Exactly ten groschen."

Josef's gaze trembled.

Ten groschen.

It was a sum a skilled stonemason would have to save without spending a coin for ten days to gather, enough to buy two plump sheep outright.

Yet to nobles who already believed that high-quality soap cost twenty groschen, ten groschen would feel like an extraordinary bargain, practically a giveaway.

"The quality is far superior to Castile soap, yet the price is half. It even bears the royal crest, showing that it is guaranteed by the Crown. Do you think Venetian merchants will be able to see this without drooling over it?"

"C-Certainly. Even I don't think I could resist buying it."

Josef nodded, but the worried expression remained on his face.

"Still, Your Majesty... there is one concern."

"Go on."

"Venetian merchants are devout Catholics. And Bohemia is currently... forgive me, but hasn't it been branded heretical by the Holy See?"

Josef carefully watched my expression.

"No matter how good the product is, would they really buy a heretic's soap and sell it throughout Europe? They could become caught up in an inquisition..."

I snorted with laughter.

Josef's concern was reasonable.

That would have been true if our counterparts had not been Venetian merchants.

"You think Venetians are too virtuous."

"Pardon?"

"They worship profit more than faith. Did Venice stop trading with the Ottoman Empire because they were heathens? No. Spices made money, so they hid their crosses behind their backs and shook hands. If it made money, they'd haul sulfur from the fires of Hell and sell it."

For Venetian merchants, the Bible was a ledger, and their one god was gold.

Heresy and excommunication were no more than excuses to bargain down the price.

Still, I couldn't dismiss Josef's concern entirely.

"Of course, we must consider public opinion. If rumors spread that nobles use soap made by heretics, those who value appearances may hesitate to buy it."

Venetian merchants aside, Europe's nobles, the final consumers, were people who at least had to pretend to be devout.

If rumors spread that they used soap made by heretics, they might avoid buying it no matter how good the quality was.

"That's why I intend to give this product another layer of packaging."

"Another layer of packaging? What do you mean...?"

I rose from my seat and slowly walked to the window.

The whole panorama of Prague spread before my eyes.

Behind its splendid rooftops lay the true face of the Middle Ages: filthy, foul-smelling, and crawling with every kind of disease.

I intended to exploit the fear carved into medieval people's bones.

"Soap containing God's grace."

"Pardon?"

"Soap that repels the Black Death."

"...!!"

I turned and slowly curled my lips into a smile.

"What do you think? With packaging like that, won't every noble in Europe come running, mouths watering?"

* * *

Old Town Square in Prague.

The square was as lively as always, nearly bursting at the seams.

The sound of butchers chopping meat.

The shouts of women haggling with chicken sellers.

The grinding of cart wheels over stone pavement.

All of it blended into the city's great discordant symphony.

Yet something stronger than the noise filled the square.

The sharp ammonia stench from leather-tanning workshops, the fishy smell from fish stalls...

And the sour odor of sweat and urine from unwashed bodies hung heavily in the air.

Into that chaotic cauldron of odors, a cart creaked its way in.

Jan, a young worker from the Soap Guild, gripped the cart handles tightly, his expression tense.

The cart was covered, but a sweet fruity scent seeped through the gaps, creating a strange contrast with the foul smells around it.

Jan set up at a busy corner of the square where the most people passed through.

Then he yanked off the cover.

Flutter-

As the cover came away, the neatly stacked ivory bricks gleamed in the sunlight.

At the same time, the trapped fragrance burst forth.

The freshness of a May orchard instantly seized the noses of Prague's citizens, weary of rotten fish and sweat.

"Huh? What's that smell?"

"It smells like fruit. Where's it coming from?"

Passersby stopped one after another. Sniffing the air, they searched for the source of the scent.

Jan didn't miss the opportunity and shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Come, see, smell! Prague's pride! Bohemia's miracle! Apple soap has arrived!"

Women passing by stopped. Laborers carrying loads also gathered around the cart out of curiosity.

A middle-aged woman in an apron picked up a bar of soap and asked, "What's this? Cheese?"

"No, ma'am! It's not for eating, it's for your skin. Soap, soap!"

"Soap? This hard, white thing is soap?"

The woman tapped the soap with her fingernail as if she couldn't believe it.

The soap she knew wasn't a smooth rectangular block, but a black, slimy lump like snot.

"Oh, stop lying. Even the soap nobles use isn't this white. Did you harden flour dough to scam us?"

Suspicion rose among the crowd.

Its flawless appearance had become a disadvantage instead.

That was when Jan brought out his trump card.

Flutter-

He prominently hung a sheet of parchment on the stand beside the cart.

At the center of the parchment, the Bohemian royal lion crest had been clearly stamped in red wax.

"Do you doubt it? Look at this certificate!"

Jan puffed out his chest and cried out.

"This is a quality certificate personally granted by His Majesty the King! This soap was made under royal supervision, proof that His Majesty personally guarantees its quality!"

The people murmured.

"A royal crest?"

"It's real? That's a lion."

Most of them couldn't read, but everyone recognized the image of a lion standing on its hind legs.

Once the King's authority became involved, doubt instantly turned into curiosity.

"If the King guarantees it... it must be a truly good product."

"Well, His Majesty wouldn't swindle us."

The middle-aged woman asked again, "So how much is it?"

Jan confidently held up one finger.

"Only one groschen! Normally, you couldn't buy this even for a gold coin, but through His Majesty's generosity, we offer it for just one groschen! One silver coin buys you this miracle!"

One groschen.

Enough to buy a few loaves of bread at the market, or drink one's fill of beer at a tavern.

It was an astonishing price that even commoners could afford if they wanted to.

And it came with the King's guarantee?

Support for the King among Prague's citizens was now absolute.

The King who had defeated the crusaders and relieved their hunger was guaranteeing it. That alone made them believe this product had to be different.

"The scent is definitely nice."

"It feels like I'm in an orchard."

Here and there, people began opening their purses.

Most were curious young people, or women sick and tired of their husbands' sweat smell.

"Give me one. I'll try it, even if it's a scam."

"I'll take one too. I should use it when I wash my child."

Clink, clink-

Silver coins fell into the container as Jan eagerly sold soap.

But that was all.

After the initial interest passed, sales slowed sharply.

Most people still stood with their arms crossed, only watching.

"It looks nice, but do we really need it?"

"For one groschen, I could get several mugs of beer..."

To medieval people, foul odors were as natural as air.

They had little concept of hygiene, so soap was an unnecessary expense no matter how cheap it was.

To people who believed that splashing water over themselves once a week, or even once a month, was enough to live without trouble, soap was nothing more than a luxury they could take or leave.

Jan anxiously bit his lip.

'What do I do? There are still so many bars left in the cart...'

If he returned like this, Guildmaster Josef would surely give him a severe reprimand.

Then the guildmaster's final instruction flashed through Jan's mind.

'If people won't buy them... use the method His Majesty taught us.'

Jan swallowed.

He pulled a large kitchen knife from beneath the cart.

Shing-

The crowd flinched and stepped back at the blade flashing in the sunlight.

"W-What? Why did he take out a knife?"

"Is he going to force us to buy them?"

Instead of answering, Jan placed a bar of soap on a cutting board.

Then, without hesitation, he drove the blade down.

Thunk! Thunk!

In an instant, the hard soap was cut into small pieces like cubed cheese.

As the confused people murmured among themselves, Jan scooped up a handful of soap pieces.

"Everyone! Do you begrudge the expense? Are you hesitant because you don't know what soap is?"

He held out the soap pieces toward the people gathered in the square.

"Then I'll give them to you for free!"

"...What?"

Everyone's minds went blank.

What had he just said?

He was giving out soap for free?

Jan placed a piece of soap into the hand of a stunned porter.

"It's free! Take it home and try it! If you like it after using it, come back then!"

The porter accepted the soap without thinking.

A small, hard piece in his hand.

The sweet apple scent stinging his nose.

'...This is free?'

Jan didn't stop. He gave pieces of soap to a woman carrying a child, an elderly person watching nearby, even a drooling beggar and child.

"Here, take one! A gift from His Majesty! It's free! I'm not taking money! Just take it!"

The destructive power of the word free was truly enormous.

People who had only watched with crossed arms moments before instantly changed expressions and rushed forward.

"Me! Give me one too!"

"Free? Really?"

"Over here! Give me one too!"

The area around the cart instantly became chaos. People stretched out their hands and shoved one another to receive theirs first, making it hard for Jan to keep his balance.

Those holding solid soap for the first time in their lives all reacted differently.

One child tried to put it in their mouth because it smelled so good, only to get smacked on the back by their mother. An elderly person rubbed it briskly against their clothes as though they had received a jewel, then tucked it into their robe.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, the cart that had been full of soap was empty.

There had been hundreds of bars, but less than a tenth had actually been sold for money.

In purely financial terms, it was a massive loss.

But Jan's expression wasn't dark.

Because the King had permitted this.

"That's all for today! I'll return tomorrow!"

Every Prague citizen heading home carried a piece of white soap in hand.

And the apple fragrance spreading from their hands was gradually, ever so gradually, pushing back the air of Prague that had been filled with sweat and urine.

As Jan tidied the empty cart, he felt a premonition.

The people who had received free soap today would return tomorrow carrying silver coins.

Footnotes:

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried