Chapter 55
Chapter 55
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: New Lord of the Border Villages
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Having collected the deed and all the other documents he was entitled to, Eugene left Baron Beogalan's castle.
The joint pledge from the neighboring nobles would be sent to the Feilin Merchant Group's branch within a fortnight, they said.
As it was an old family with a title, they had many noble acquaintances, so it would take some time.
“Eek!? What’s this? Ack! Monster byproducts? One, two, three stone raccoon… Too many to count! I’m rich now! Filthy rich! Kee-ee-ek!”
Seeing the spirit of desire frolicking inside the cart piled high with mana stones and byproducts, chanting some bizarre arithmetic, even Eugene felt pleased.
Of course, he’d have to split it with the Feilin Merchant Group, but he’d earned in one go what would normally take five or six subjugation missions to make.
It was all thanks to the byproducts and mana stones from the wyvern, an upper-grade monster.
“Wyvern byproducts are that valuable?”
When Eugene asked, Romari—who had been sneaking glances at the wyvern parts separately packed in the carriage and grinning ear to ear—replied.
“Of course. Roamers have been hunted a few times, but there’s no record of a wyvern ever being taken from the magic realm. And you’re giving me some wing membrane and the tail stinger…”
“I wouldn’t say you did much this time, but a promise is a promise.”
“Thank you! I wasn’t much help this time, but I’ll work really hard from now on!”
Romari was deeply moved.
Byproducts from upper-grade monsters were so precious that any mage, regardless of their school, would drool over them.
Wyvern parts were especially rare, and for her, who aimed to create chimeras, they were worth any fortune.
“Fine, whatever with the wyvern hunt, but who’d have thought subjugating the magic realm would make you a lord? Unreal. Master, you planned this, didn’t you?”
“Not at all. It just happened. Still, not a bad outcome.”
Crema Galpredic burst into laughter as Eugene shrugged.
“Pfft! Not bad? If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t believe it. Any knight who calls himself one—free or landed—would flip out nine times out of ten.”
“You think so?”
“Heh heh!”
Galpredic couldn’t hold back his laughter at Eugene’s nonchalant attitude.
His master, who had saved him and given him new life, was becoming a lord.
He’d thought it likely from the first meeting, but he never imagined it would happen in just a few months.
“Heh heh. Lots more fun ahead, I bet. This is getting exciting.”
“Didn’t you want to rise in the world?”
“This is rising. And at my age, you think I want to hole up in a fief eating good food? A knight seeks honor in battle.”
“I see. But seriously, how old are you?”
“Huh? Didn’t I tell you? Twenty-four.”
“No way, liar.”
Romari, who had been hovering nearby, widened her eyes in surprise, making Galpredic scowl.
“Lady Romari? What’s with that reaction?”
“Oh, sorry. I thought you were thirty-four.”
“What? Where do I look over thirty?”
“Everywhere. Head to toe.”
“You don’t know men. Makes sense, with that figure, you haven’t met many. Even my granny wasn’t that bad.”
“Guh!”
Mark, who had been attending Eugene, hurriedly covered his mouth and turned away. At the same time, Romari’s face flushed red.
“No, comparing me to your grandmother right now…”
“Granny was strict but played with me well. She died just before I became a squire. I miss her.”
“...!”
Unlike his usual brutish knight demeanor, Galpredic gazed at the sky with a face full of longing, shaking Romari’s pupils.
No matter what, she couldn’t get mad at him mentioning his dead family…
“Still, a dog living over ten years is long-lived. Anyway, I used to ask when I was young, but after growing up, it didn’t bark much—probably lost its pep.”
“…Dog? Woof woof, that dog?”
“Yeah. The bitch we raised at home back then. Name was Talrula.”
“No, why would a dog bark…”
“Sir Eugene!”
Just then, the scouts returned, cutting the conversation short.
“What’s up?”
“Some gang’s taken over Raban Village.”
Raban was one of the rough villages on the way to Baron Beogalan’s territory, a place that had become safe thanks to Eugene, like Paranan or Mintan.
“Looks like vagrants crawled in since there was no owner. Master, aside from Mintan and Paranan, the rest are probably a mess. We need food anyway, so why not swing by and clean them all out?”
“Agreed.”
Accepting Galpredic’s advice, Eugene summoned the squad leaders and issued orders.
For the next five days, merciless massacres unfolded in every village and hamlet between Baron Beogalan’s territory and Mopern.
* * *
“What? Recognize the territory with the Mino River as the border? Has this guy lost his mind?”
Sir Pidren scowled deeply at the letter from Baron Beogalan.
Like most nobles, the Pidren and Beogalan families were connected by blood from ages past.
Even with the chaos in the Kalsbagen Peninsula—no, especially because of it—nobles avoided provoking each other and cooperated.
But suddenly asking to recognize a specific area—land right next to Pidren’s territory—as someone else’s fief was hard to grant lightly.
“Yann Eugene? Who the hell is this guy pulling this out of nowhere? Some hidden bastard son? Sheesh…”
Clicking his tongue, Sir Pidren read on, planning a polite refusal.
But then.
“Hunted over two hundred monsters at the Philia Ruins? And a wyvern… a wyvern!?”
Sir Pidren involuntarily shot to his feet.
“Well-armed, organized troops numbering forty, plus another knight? And they’ll grow more? Insane…”
His hand trembled holding the letter.
It would come out eventually, so Baron Beogalan had no reason to exaggerate or lie.
If true, a knight capable of hunting trolls and wyverns was leading elite troops that could crush a small fief, and he’d founded a territory.
“If I pick a fight over legitimacy… No way. If they march here, it’s over.”
Sir Pidren dismissed the instinctive thought.
As a knight himself, he knew full well that thirty leather-armored soldiers couldn’t match elites.
Hiring mercenaries might work, but stationing them indefinitely, paying wages, not knowing when they’d attack? His finances would dry up in a month.
“This isn’t ordinary.”
Feeling his heart pound, Sir Pidren checked the rest.
At the final line, his eyes bulged.
“Gasp? Likely to receive enfeoffment from Count Winslon!?”
The name of the noble among nobles, who held vast lands rivaling a small kingdom, blanked his mind for a moment.
But Sir Pidren snapped to and grabbed the accompanying joint pledge, shouting.
“Ink! Bring ink! And my seal, quick!”
A strong neighbor was bad, but this was different. He couldn’t welcome it, but no need to offend them either.
Especially since Baron Beogalan—the highest-ranked here and sole owner of a magic realm—had acknowledged them first.
“A knight of Count Winslon… Can’t sit idle.”
The baron had only said “likely,” but Sir Pidren took it as fact and grew urgent.
Better more allies knew this shocking news, so he wrote similar letters to friendly nobles.
Thus, the Philia Ruins subjugation spread in a direction Eugene never imagined.
* * *
“S-Sir Knight. This is all…”
The Mopern branch manager couldn’t continue upon seeing the five carts overflowing with monster byproducts.
The shock didn’t end there.
“Sir Knight, who are all those people?”
“New subordinates I picked up along the way. Problem?”
“No, sir! Of course not. Ah, does that mean Veron Nedo too…”
“They said they’d follow me.”
“I see. Congratulations, Sir Knight.”
Stunned but quick as a merchant, the branch manager grasped the situation and bowed deeply.
Losing a capable team like Veron’s was regrettable, but at his level, he saw Eugene bringing dozens of times more profit.
“Anyway, I want to head back to Maren as soon as possible.”
“We’ll arrange a ship within three days.”
“Thanks.”
“With more troops, best to rent out a whole inn for lodging?”
“Hm. Room rates?”
Assuming he’d pay, Eugene skipped “how much?” but frowned slightly at the potential cost.
The branch manager, misreading it entirely, waved his hands frantically.
“Oh no, no need to worry. We’ll handle it from our end.”
“Hm? If you insist, I appreciate it.”
Thinking the Mopern manager as bold and merchant-like as Prechella, Eugene accepted readily.
‘Noble stock alright—threats come so naturally. Pro move, not his first rodeo.’
Hiding his thoughts perfectly, the branch manager beamed.
“Oh, you flatter us. It’s an honor to know a noble, outstanding knight like Sir Eugene.”
Still honey-tongued, but footing the bill was genuinely appreciated, so Eugene replied mildly.
“You’re too kind yourself, branch manager. And I could use your help with something else.”
“Yes? What help?”
Suspicious of more squeezing, the branch manager asked cautiously.
“On the way to Baron Beogalan’s territory, I’ve taken charge of the villages and hamlets along the route. Here’s how it happened…”
Eugene detailed the ambushes and how he’d dealt(?) with them.
The branch manager’s cautious expression shifted, and upon seeing the deed stamped by Baron Beogalan, his jaw dropped.
“S-So Sir Eugene is now lord of four villages and six hamlets?”
“Ended up that way. The joint pledge from local nobles will arrive here soon too.”
“Oh my! I failed to recognize a great noble and committed a grave discourtesy!”
The already polite manager grew even more deferential, bowing nonstop and sputtering.
“I sincerely apologize for not recognizing the future lord before me, Sir Eugene. If I can help in any small way, I’ll do anything.”
“I’m lord now, but short on managers. How about sending capable men from Mopern to handle them?”
“Absolutely. I’ll find the perfect people and send them at once. Thank you for giving us this chance.”
The branch manager’s mouth stretched wide.
Grateful for crushing rival merchants via Philia, now securing the route to Beogalan too!
‘Safer travel aside, tolls from hired mercenaries alone would pay off big. What a golden goose!’
“Then, may our branch use Sir Eugene’s crest? Best way to show you’re backing us for travel or tolls.”
“Crest?”
“Yes.”
“Hm… I’ll provide one before leaving.”
Caught off-guard by the unthought-of request, Eugene brushed it off. He’d need to decide on a design first.
“Yes, sir. Allow me to guide you to your lodgings. The finest in Mopern.”
Praising himself inwardly for following Prechella’s orders to cooperate fully, the branch manager groveled.
(To be continued)
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