Chapter 146
Chapter 146
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 146
Chapter Title: Hold It, Sleight of Hand?
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A man who had been diligently scribbling away clicked his tongue in annoyance and tossed his pen down like it was trash.
The documents before him were crammed full of numbers, giving the impression they held some monumental secret.
"Those barbarians, as expected.
They blow through every last coin the second we squeeze it out of them.
This is exactly why they're called barbarians—idiots, the lot of them."
Viscount Gino scratched his head furiously, muttering in a voice thick with irritation.
At first, it had just been following the capital's orders, trading with those loathsome barbarians. But somewhere along the way, time had passed, and it turned out to be a gift from the heavens—like finding gold bars raining from the sky.
From what he could tell, the barbarian tribes had no clue about the true value of the monster byproducts they brought in.
And for good reason: those byproducts from monsters were prime materials for magic.
Yet the barren northern lands were sorely lacking in mana, making it incredibly difficult for mages—who manipulated mana—to even emerge there.
Naturally, no one up there knew just how valuable those monster parts were. That ignorance became a golden river of cash for Viscount Gino and the northern nobles who handled the middleman trade.
'The dumb barbarian tribes hunted like mad when they realized it brought coin, flooding us with supply while demand stayed steady—so we'd just tell them prices were dropping. Then we'd flip it to the merchant guilds for even higher prices!'
It wasn't like the capital sent no overseers at all.
But the North was awfully far from the royal palace.
In other words, one or two officials couldn't keep tabs on everything here. A few well-placed plants to blind them, and it was handled.
Or a bribe, if needed.
That was how Viscount Gino and the northern nobles had amassed a fortune in just two short years.
But they'd squeezed too hard, apparently. Word came back that monster numbers were thinning out among the barbarian tribes.
They should've realized the gravity then and taken steps. Instead, the northern nobles—eyes on immediate gains over the future—slashed prices even lower.
In the end, their golden fishery dried up after a mere three years.
The northern tribes' greed for a little more abundance, piled atop the nobles' greed for kickbacks from undercutting deals, had snowballed into this disaster.
"Idiots.
If they'd just held out another year."
The North had poor land and few visitors—making money there was no easy feat.
The reason they even held these northern fiefs was simply because their roots were planted here.
In this hellish land they couldn't escape even if they wanted to, Viscount Gino couldn't let go of that one ray of light he'd found.
'For people like us with no power or influence, wealth is the only weapon we can wield.
I need more.
More, more, more!
If only to keep my children from being looked down on for living next to barbarians!'
They'd made a killing, but expenses had been massive too.
The kickbacks they'd skimmed weren't pocket change, so silencing mouths and clouding eyes came at a steep price.
If the barbarian trade hadn't withered to dust, they could've expanded without a care by now. Instead, they'd scattered their hoarded funds far and wide, and now that golden fishery was on the verge of closing for good.
But apparently, the world didn't demand they starve sitting on their hands.
As relations between the northern barbarian tribes and the kingdom started freezing over again, the northern nobles saw it as their second chance.
Merit in war would raise their standing in the kingdom. Driving out the barbarians and expanding territory might even create an earldom in this viscount-max region.
And who got named 'earl' would be the real prize.
'The kingdom's held back plenty already.
Keep provoking the barbarian tribes, and they'll choose war. That's when our shot at glory comes.'
He'd already gotten word of an envoy group crossing the kingdom's border into barbarian lands.
Even if the kingdom pushed for peace, the current mood among the barbarians made it unlikely they'd take the hand. So Viscount Gino felt safe hoping for a rift between the kingdom and the northern tribes.
Sure, he and the northern nobles had caused this mess—but loyalty to the kingdom took a backseat to their own futures.
"Viscount, Viscount."
A frantic butler called from outside the study, prompting Viscount Gino to look up.
When he asked what it was, the reply came: guests had arrived in the territory.
Visitors to the North weren't common, but reporting it straight to him—the lord—meant they weren't ordinary.
And when he heard who the guest was, Viscount Gino jolted in shock.
"The heir to the distant Claussen Margrave Territory, Young Lord Sion Claussen, has entered the fief."
"Claussen?
Why would the young lord from that far-off place suddenly come all the way to the North...?"
Then it clicked, puzzle pieces snapping into place.
These days, any rising star from the kingdom mentioned meant Sion Claussen nine times out of ten.
Even in the North, his name cropped up now and then—so in the capital, it went without saying.
And now this man had come north.
Especially after that envoy group had quietly headed to the northern barbarians not long ago.
"...One of the guests who returned from the north?"
"That's right.
He says he's finished his mission, wants some rest, and has urgent business to discuss with you, Viscount."
"Hmm..."
As expected, the one sent to negotiate with the northern barbarian tribes was Sion Claussen.
At the news, Viscount Gino inwardly cheered—Yes!
Word had it Sion Claussen was a war hero.
Send a guy like that north, and nine times out of ten, it ended in war!
That was Viscount Gino's bet.
Unable to hide his glee, he ordered the guest brought to the manor at once.
He neatly stacked his last ledgers and documents, stashing them in his room's secret compartment, then headed to the drawing room to greet them.
'A noble with mannerisms beyond his years, Sion Claussen.
This won't be easy.'
Rumors across the kingdom painted him as no ordinary man.
But even if Sion had sniffed something out, Viscount Gino had nothing to fear.
He'd erased all obvious evidence back when relations between the kingdom and northern tribes went south.
Related parties had been bought off or threatened into silence; holdouts had been eliminated long ago.
'That's why I pulled this off.'
No evidence meant no pushing him around.
He was a viscount appointed directly by the royals—no Claussen heir could touch him lightly.
Unless one of the three great marquises came personally, or a royal VIP showed up.
Plus, the enraged barbarians wouldn't have listened properly to the kingdom's envoys anyway.
Viscount Gino knew the tribes were split and fighting among themselves.
Persuade one faction, and the other might just say 'screw it' and attack—boom, war.
"I played my cards perfectly."
Another scheme courtesy of Viscount Gino and the northern nobles.
Spotting the tribes' tensions, they'd deliberately paid a bit more to some, less to others.
Toss a spark into that powder keg, and they'd erupted into infighting—how they'd laughed.
'That's what split them into kingdom-friendly and hostile camps!'
He'd built plenty of escape routes, plenty of distractions.
If he planned to line his pockets against the kingdom without this prep, he never would've started.
"Viscount.
Young Lord Sion Claussen is entering."
With that, a group filed into the drawing room.
Scanning their faces, Viscount Gino spotted a familiar one amid them and let out a sigh.
'Even Schumacher, vice-commander of the royal knights?
That heavyweight's tagging along?'
The man had started as a knight in the North, transferred to the capital, joined the royal knights, and risen to vice-commander.
He'd visited home on leave occasionally, so northern nobles knew his face and name well.
The royal knight commander never left the king's side, so vice-commanders handled all major external duties.
That meant the royals' full attention was on this noble: Sion Claussen.
'...Gotta play it careful.'
Steel resolve in place, Viscount Gino greeted the striking young man who entered first.
"I sincerely welcome you to my fief, Young Lord Sion Claussen.
I knew an envoy had gone north, but I never imagined you'd go personally.
A war hero of the kingdom, all the way to this remote North."
He watched for the response.
A war hero, star of royal parties, destroyer of slave markets.
Just twenty, but his achievements outshone veteran功臣s.
No room for complacency—though they had zero evidence anyway.
Show nerves, and he'd hand them his throat.
He wouldn't crumble stupidly here.
"Ah, Viscount Gino.
Pleasure, Sion Claussen."
But the young man flashed a radiant smile and a slight bow, and Viscount Gino felt his wariness crack, if only for a moment.
Hard to imagine suspicion hiding in such a bright grin.
Sion's expression had the power to disarm defenses in an instant.
"Have a seat.
You must be worn from the long mission."
"Thank you.
It was a bit of a rough journey, honestly."
Catching a shadow on Sion's face, Viscount Gino wondered if things were going his way after all.
What could be tough about final talks with northern barbarians?
War, obviously!
"Forgive the impropriety of asking—I know it's rude—but as a northern noble, I'm deeply concerned about the situation, so I'll risk it: Young Lord Sion Claussen."
"Ask away, Viscount Gino."
"You discussed ways to resolve the northern barbarian tribes' current stance."
"...Yes."
"And the outcome...?"
Sion let out a heavy sigh.
His face darkened instantly—so much so that any ladies present would've sighed in sympathy without thinking.
Sion glanced back with a nod.
Schumacher and the others who'd entered with him vanished, leaving only Sion and what looked like his guard knight—a man and a woman.
The air grew thick with impending gravity, drawing Viscount Gino's ear despite himself.
"It's not good."
"Not good meaning...?"
"Looks like trouble's brewing soon."
Yes—war!
Viscount Gino barely suppressed a cheer.
They'd already milked everything anyway.
Wipe out the northern barbarians entirely, and their scandals vanished too—plus expanded royal northern territory meant boosted local influence. Win-win.
"So the barbarians are ready for all-out war with the kingdom."
Outwardly, of course, he wore worry and regret.
The natural response.
Wars hit local nobles first and hardest.
If the kingdom told northern nobles to handle it themselves, that'd be trouble—but Viscount Gino doubted the royals would.
'Sion Claussen here is proof!
The kingdom's signaling full, lightning intervention!
Unyielding resolve to show force!'
No way they'd summon a Claussen heir from his margrave seat to the capital just for envoy duty, then send him north.
They'd issued orders for a major decision. With him back from the north bearing bad news, anyone could guess what came next.
"Bad news for the kingdom—and for us northern nobles."
"Ah, no need to worry that much."
Sion waved it off with a reassuring smile.
That trustworthy vibe had Viscount Gino hoping he'd say something like, 'The kingdom will deploy regulars soon and launch a full northern conquest.'
But the words that followed...
"The kingdom's fine.
The trouble just needs to hit the northern nobles—you—alone."
...Shattered his expectations entirely.
"What do you mean... Ugh? Ack!"
Before Viscount Gino could react, Kim Yu-hyun clamped down on his neck and head, pinning him helpless.
"As I said, the journey was a bit rough."
"Wh-what the hell are you... Gack!"
"So we'll push this fast.
Listen up and answer.
If you've done anything your conscience stings over, spill it now.
Anything—just spit it out quick, Viscount Gino."
"Urk!
S-sudden rudeness like th... Ngh!"
"Ah, yes.
I see."
Sion snapped his fingers twice.
Risika, standing quietly beside him, balled up a handkerchief and stuffed it firmly in his mouth.
No sound would get through now.
Kim Yu-hyun then blindfolded him completely with black cloth. Sion propped his foot on the table, chuckling at the viscount's muffled screams of "Mmph! Mmmph!"
"If nothing comes to mind, we'll have to 'help' you remember real thoroughly.
Kim Yu-hyun?"
"Yes, Young Lord Sion."
"Take him."
A good beating makes even forgotten sins spill out—humans being humans.
So take him away.
To the room of truth.