Both Yngvi and Zenjirou were startled by that.
“Pardon, but they wanted your skill with magic writing? So it wasn’t humans getting close to the Jötunn, but the Jötunn needing humans?” Zenjirou asked.
Yngvi picked up the thread. “You’ll be using your skills in magic writing as bargaining material? I heard that the Jötunn were a highly advanced civilization, magically speaking. You said as much as well. Despite that, those skills are still valuable to them?”
Representative Rök replied calmly, “I will answer Zenjirou’s question first. You are right. The relationship between humans and the Jötunn was not human-prompted. The Jötunn put it forward. To speak plainly, the humans were under their dominion. If I were to go further, we were more like livestock with a particularly useful skill.”
There was a fair amount of self-deprecation in his words, but there was no hint of anger or hatred towards the Jötunn.
“Livestock...under their dominion...”
Zenjirou rolled the phrases around in his mouth while the representative explained.
“Of course, I say livestock, but we were not used for meat like pigs, or for wool and milk like goats. Instead, they wanted us to carve magic writing for them.”
His dark gray eyes shifted from Zenjirou to Yngvi at that point.
“The rest of this will answer your question, Yngvi. The Jötunn were indeed extremely advanced magically. They were on the same level as the ancient dragons the church reveres so much. Our skill in magic writing is something they taught us, and is a drop in the ocean compared to their mastery.”
For once, Yngvi was struck completely dumb. There was still a gleam in his blue eyes, though as he waited for the representative to continue.
“However, there are differences between knowing how to use magic writing and actually doing so. The writing must be carved precisely in order to use its effects. Another is that the writing’s size has no influence on its efficacy.”
“Ah, so that’s it,” Yngvi said.
“Oh, that’s why they need humans,” Zenjirou added, coming to the realization a beat later. “If the effect will take place regardless of the writing’s size, so long as it is carved correctly, the humans would be far more suited to the skill than the Jötunn.”
“Exactly,” the representative said with satisfaction.
If humans and Jötunn were as dexterous as each other relative to their size, then when it came to writing smaller text, the Jötunn would never be able to match the humans. Engraving a Jötunn-sized ring with magic writing would—for a Jötunn—be an exceptionally delicate task, beyond most of their kind. It would be the domain of the best craftsmen they had, at the end of years of training. For a human, though, apart from the clumsiest, anyone would be able to do it with some simple training.
“If our histories are correct, there were many who remained in Utgarða. If those lines live on, they would be our trading rivals. However, I would rate our prospects against them as good.”
“Would you tell me the reason for that?” Zenjirou asked.
“It’s simple,” the other man said dispassionately. “While we were under their rule, we constantly engraved magic writing for them. It would be natural to assume the humans who remained are still in that position. Meanwhile, we have improved our abilities for our own sake.”
There was a firm pride and confidence on his face. They had engraved things for themselves, which inevitably meant they had practice in working on items on their own scale. Using those techniques on Jötunn-scale items would allow them to fit far more into the same space.
“I see,” Zenjirou responded eventually. “Utgard has a surfeit of skilled craftsmen.”
The windows of the temple passed through his mind. Although the people of Złota Wolność used glass in their windows, it was warped and murky from a modern perspective. Creating panes of glass and engraving words in tiny text were not one and the same, but both required skill and patience.
“Indeed. We won’t be inferior in skill or number,” said Rök.
There was obvious pride that made up part of that answer, and yet there was definite objectivity in it as well. There was a real possibility that the humans who had remained had also polished their skills beyond those who had traveled to Utgard. The Jötunn might very well see the examples and refuse to trade for something of equal quality. More harshly, it was also possible that the Jötunn had continued to develop their powers and magic writing itself was a thing of the past. Either way, it would be dangerous to stake everything on it.
“Would you tell us of their traditions? There could be things that the Jötunn are likely to want that exist in Capua but not here. I believe there is scope for an agreement there.”
The representative looked shocked by the suggestion. “Are you sure? If our history is correct, they are very advanced and effectively a massive nation-state. You could even consider them divinities beyond this realm.”
Zenjirou’s implication that Capua would trade with Utgarða on Utgard’s behalf was a tacit promise to not directly trade with the former. The reason for the man’s shock was that Utgard wanted the Capuan royal family to establish a route to Utgarða. In other words, when the two related nations were in a position to trade, Capua would be as well. Being in that position but purposefully using Utgard as a go-between for things Utgarða wanted was clearly wasteful. You could even consider it against their better interests.
Of course, despite his relatively low level of statecraft, Zenjirou knew that. Yet he immediately agreed even so. “Of course. However advanced they are—or rather, the more advanced they are—the more risks there are in us directly entering into a relationship with a nation we know nothing about.”
“Hm?” Representative Rök cocked his head at that. There was a logic to it, but it was almost cowardly. Be it domestic or international, all politics carried risks. Zenjirou’s comment meant avoiding both the risk and the reward. Of course, that wasn’t his true goal.
“Therefore, I would suggest that my country’s trade with Utgarða be carried out via Utgard. In return, Utgard would interact with the countries in this world through us.”
“Brother?” the prince prompted him, narrowing his eyes and speaking in a low voice.
Although he had somewhat expected the response, it felt heavier than Zenjirou had expected, so he continued with a slightly hurried voice. “Of course, I wouldn’t ask that you completely drop all trade and agreements you already have. I mean for us to be your go-between to other, new countries.”