088 - Reclaiming the Overdue Debt (9)
Calix made his proposal to Viscount Servio, who was on the verge of storming out of the meeting hall.
"I'll return the 40,000 gold excluding the 60,000 gold debt. Three years from now, when I inherit the count's title."
"Nonsense!"
"Do you really think so?"
The viscount said nothing.
This is why schemers like him are so easy to handle.
They always weigh gains and losses, moving strictly by cold logic.
If he'd pulled the same threat on a hothead like Marquis Antonio, the man would've declared territorial war on the spot, leaving the aftermath to his vassals.
Nobles born with everything prize their face above all else.
But Viscount Servio, who clawed his way up through sheer ability, swallowing shame and humiliation step by step—he was different.
He just calculated profits and losses with the utmost chill.
"I propose a three-year truce. If there's no hostility in that time, I'll return the 40,000 gold. Of course, the auditors rolling around your territory right now would have to withdraw immediately."
"How can I trust you'll actually return the money?"
"Let's put it in writing this time. That promissory note you already have might as well be scrap paper by now, right?"
The viscount closed his eyes briefly, pondering.
'They desperately want this truce, but it's not a bad deal for us either. With tensions escalating against Count Lander already giving me headaches, no need to stretch the front lines. The kid won the Knight Tournament, so finishing him off cleanly would be tricky anyway. Bickering would just waste resources. But...'
A bitter smile tugged at Viscount Servio's lips.
'Tch, am I getting old? Logically, I should accept this, but it still pisses me off for some reason. The brat's annoying, sure, but... if he won't yield even a speck of profit, no deal's possible. Ugh.'
He'd always chosen cold reason over hot passion.
Letting revenge for stolen silver bars make him miss a chance to recover even part of it would be foolish.
Finally, he opened his eyes and spoke.
"12,000 gold in year one, 14,000 in year two, and 26,000 in year three. We can't skip the interest, can we?"
Calix shook his head.
"No interest. This isn't about repaying a loan in the first place. Remember, dragging this out with baseless demands hurts both sides."
"...Fine. We'll do it that way."
Even as he sealed the deal, Viscount Servio couldn't shake the nagging unease.
He was clearly getting the better end, yet irritation crept into a corner of his chest.
'Hah, am I jealous? Me, Viscount Servio?'
He steadied his mind once more.
This country bumpkin territory's dayfly wasn't worth his time right now.
Win the central power struggle, and he could blow it away with a single snort.
"Don't forget, you have to halt hostilities too."
"Of course. As if I even have the power for that. Haha!"
"We'll see... Well, good luck."
Viscount Servio left the room with a strange expression. Watching his retreating back, Calix let out a deep sigh.
"Ugh, it worked. I thought he'd push back harder... Guess the gap really is that big."
"If we call Szczecin territory's forces 1, Servio's around 2.5 to 3. Marquis Antonio's over 20."
"No matter how I look at it, Count Collin shouldn't have been left in charge. Russell running things would've been better."
"He was always obsessed with the sword. Still, thanks to that, he married into both factions at once and jumped straight from baron to count. Not wrong to say he built the family."
Krout's eyes softened, lost in fond memories for a moment.
"Anyway, we've bought some time from the clingy bastards. Time to focus on real territory development."
"A wise decision, my lord."
Inside the carriage heading back to Szczecin territory.
Calix lounged on the plush cushions, deep in thought.
'Let's see... First, plugged those annoying faction mouths for three years easier than expected. Better to clear another dungeon in that time than bicker with them.'
He had no intention of paying the full 40,000 gold anyway. Stall two years with 20,000, then play dumb when the great war hits.
'Intel to Madam Hari, mercenaries—with Trias's pull, we can mobilize enough to uproot Poznyu's foundations. First raid just happened, so... a bit over three years left?'
Calix pulled up the Eren Continent map in his status window, scanning the board and slowly recalling.
'From game records, next year's big events: two. Rebellion in the Madrosa Desert Kingdom, and skirmishes with the Union Kingdoms.'
He'd already passed the raid intel—the spark of those short border clashes—to Gerard.
No expectations of a proper response amid faction infighting, though.
It'd just widen the First Prince's footing a bit.
'That leaves the Madrosa Desert Kingdom rebellion. Trade cutoff already punched a hole in our finances. Got toll exemptions from the prince, so time to reconnect Eren's Silk Road.'
The ruins he'd targeted next lay right along the route.
'With that armor I just got...'
Thud!
The carriage window flew open, Krout poking his head in.
"Whoa! Why fling the window wide open like that?"
"Aren't you getting too comfy, my lord? You ride well now—no need for this fancy carriage."
"There is. It's cold—close the damn window? Or get in and talk."
"Ugh!"
Krout swung open the moving carriage door and hopped in from his horse.
"Now that you're official heir, you're Baron Szczecin."
"Escaping that half-noble limbo, yeah."
"Congratulations."
"Thanks. Your credit."
"True, I trained you hard, so..."
"Not that—the spirit herbs."
"Oh..."
Calix grinned mischievously.
"Wanna hunt more? They're higher up, but as a Sword Owner, it won't be tough."
"My lord, what spirit herbs? Shortcuts like that hinder real growth. Train properly. Not 'cause I'm scared, no."
Calix dug in his ear, blew on his pinky, and said,
"Yeah, yeah. Sure."
"Really not! I said no!"
"Got it!"
Bantering like that, they took a leisurely month rolling down snow-dusted roads before finally reaching Szczecin territory.
"Huh, weird."
"What is it, my lord?"
"Feels like coming home."
"It is home."
"You know."
As Szczecin Castle drew near, Calix dismounted the carriage and switched to horseback.
The white steed he'd gone to lengths to procure for the victory parade in the capital.
Colorful threads on the saddle added flair.
Calix wasn't one for flashy showboating, being practical.
But this wasn't modern Earth—it was Eren Continent.
Couldn't arbitrarily judge the mindset of folks who'd live and die here.
As their lord, stoking pride and loyalty meant putting on the right show.
"Waaaaah!"
"Long live Szczecin territory!"
"Long live Young Master Calix!"
From the castle gates to the inner keep, the commoners' cheers rang endless.
Calix tried to understand their hearts.
Count Collin had inflated their pride and hopes sky-high, only for it to crash in an instant.
Now, the Knight Tournament win was about to reignite it explosively.
Of course, not everyone got swept up in the frenzy.
"Six months, eh."
"Welcome home, my lord."
"No issues?"
"Come inside first. Reports after dinner."
Russell led Calix to the count's study.
"You'll handle business here from now on."
His tone was utterly detached now.
He clearly didn't know about the capital yet.
"Russell, we need to talk."
Calix slowly recounted his capital exploits: the tournament win, building ties with power players, and the truce with Viscount Servio.
As expected, Russell's reaction was lukewarm.
"Hm... Back when we first met, I'd have been disappointed. But now, I trust your judgment, my lord."
"Thanks."
"That said, delaying the succession by three years is another matter."
"Ugh."
"Your first priority should be claiming the title, marrying a fine woman, and securing an heir."
"Russell. Honestly, I know my sword talent isn't exceptional. This tournament win? Luck and absorbing those spirit herbs let my mana crush the rest."
"My lord..."
"You're saying stable governance beats chasing sword mastery, right?"
"...Can't deny it."
"Overlook this one more time."
"Won't change much."
"What if I make huge progress this time?"
"Huge progress... Not Class 5, surely?"
"Impossible, yeah? Even Class 4 was a miracle."
"You know it."
"But think: if miracles chain together, can we call it mere luck?"
"That's..."
"Plus, our territory needs that Madrosa trade route to grow."
He even meant trekking to the distant desert kingdom.
"My lord...!"
Color drained from Russell's face.
"Got the official heir stamp, so I can name you formal regent. No nobles will gang up against you."
"That was never a real worry."
"Haha, you're too capable."
He closed his eyes, wrestling inwardly.
Wasn't this like caging a bird that yearned to soar?
"Do you trust me?"
"Frankly? No choice. Betray me, and I'm left with my own strength and these companions. Which I'm already building."
"That mindset eases my mind. You're young, untested by the world's storms—I worried. But you're more mature than I thought."
Calix hid a guilty flinch.
"Heh... You're precious to me too, Russell."
"Heh, understood. No worries. What more could I want at my age?"
"Oh! What about Orsel?"
"Summoned back to the capital. Oh—and the Servio truce... You used that thing I gave you?"
"Ah, that... Nah, tossed it."
"Hm..."
Russell meant the crystal orb capturing Orsel and Countess Stera's affair.
He'd recorded it by chance as insurance—for blackmailing Servio in a pinch.
"No dire straits hit, and anyway, Servio wouldn't buckle to that. Ambition trumps fatherly love."
"Understood. If that's your call, it's right."