I Fired the Village Chief, Father of the Heroine Jasmine (Part 2)
"He did what?!"
For decades, the village chief had diligently tended to the forsaken lands of Salvatore.
"It's true! The chief's been dismissed!"
Jasmine received the shocking news just as she was returning from outside duties. Her blood ran cold.
This makes no sense! He can't do this! This is unacceptable!
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Predictably, the fiery, rebellious barbarian maiden could not restrain herself.
"Why?! Why in the world was the chief dismissed?!"
She stormed directly into the estate's manor to confront the Lord of Salvatore, Kyle de Rosen.
Under ordinary circumstances, a commoner could never barge in like this. Kyle, however, had recognized Jasmine's vital importance as a master blacksmith and granted her an entry pass so she could bring matters directly to him whenever necessary.
"……"
Pausing mid-stroke above his desk, Kyle regarded Jasmine in silence. Having dashed straight over from hard manual labor, she was a disheveled mess. Yet with news of her father's abrupt firing, she had cared nothing for appearances, charging in like a woman possessed.
"First, take a seat."
Her fury was palpable. She looked ready to throw down right then and there, caring nothing for his status as young master of the ducal Rozen family or lord of this territory. She certainly possessed the mettle for it. Yet Kyle offered her a chair with such cool composure that it threatened to snuff out her burning rage on the spot.
Scraape.
She had no choice but to sit.
Are you finally showing your true colors? Think you've buttered up the locals enough, is that it?
Even seated, Jasmine's eyes smoldered with indignation. Her anger ran far deeper than simple outrage over her adoptive father losing his job. In Jasmine Barbara's eyes, Kyle's initial goal had merely been winning over the populace; now that he had them eating out of his hand, he was sweeping away the village chief—the only other pillar of authority who might pose a nuisance to his absolute control.
Scratch, scritch, scratch.
After motioning Jasmine to a seat, Kyle briskly signed several documents. His demeanor was noticeably different from usual. The warmth he had displayed at the forge and the easy amiability he showed when mingling with the villagers had vanished without a trace.
"I am the lord of this fief, and dismissing a village chief falls squarely within my authority."
Setting down his pen with practiced elegance, Kyle fixed Jasmine with a cool, sharp gaze before speaking.
"Your current conduct borders on blatant contempt of your lord's prerogative."
It was time to establish proper discipline. No subject was permitted to challenge their lord so brazenly.
"I… I apologize for that."
Rebellious though she was, Jasmine was by no means lacking in basic decency, and she bowed her head in prompt apology. Flying into a hot-headed temper only to duck her head the moment her adoptive father scolded her was classic Jasmine Barbara from the original novel.
"Still, your lordship must know why I couldn't stay quiet! Salvatore was abandoned by House Rozen, and the chief was the sole pillar who held this wasteland together all these years!"
Having offered a perfunctory bow, the twenty-one-year-old barbarian bristled once more, demanding answers with a fiery tongue.
"Indeed. I am well aware. In the two weeks I have spent governing and inspecting Salvatore, I have witnessed firsthand what incredible feats he accomplished and how deeply he devoted himself to this land."
Rustle…
"Then why did you—?!"
Kyle rose smoothly from his chair. His affirmation only confounded Jasmine further.
"Calm yourself, Lady Jasmine."
With the poised stride of a fashion model, Kyle paced toward the window.
"Salvatore now has a lord residing within its borders. Were I a lord destined to depart shortly, the matter might be different, but I harbor no intentions of leaving. Thus, that scenario does not apply."
Standing before the window with folded arms, he looked out across his lands.
"Which means…"
"Precisely. So long as a territorial lord is present, the post of village chief is fundamentally redundant."
No matter how dedicated or capable an individual was, organizational hierarchy demanded clarity. Without restructuring the administrative apparatus, chaos was inevitable.
"B-But even so…"
Tremble, tremble.
The logic was sound, yet Jasmine's heart refused to accept it. Her fists tightened upon her knees, trembling with frustration.
"Consider this: moving forward, do you imagine visiting merchants or business partners will answer to the village chief as they once did? Not in the slightest. It would only muddy lines of communication and spawn unnecessary friction."
A focal point of authority that can no longer function properly becomes nothing more than a stumbling block.
But… but my father spent his whole life…
Staring down at the floor, tears welled in Jasmine's wide eyes.
"Father, why aren't you leaving like the others?"
When everyone else abandoned the barren, forsaken soils of Salvatore, her adoptive father, Chief Marcus, had stood firm.
"Hahaha! Because your old man wanted to build a true hometown for our Jasmine. This soil is your home and mine. How could I ever walk away?"
He knew the profound importance of roots. That was doubly true for Jasmine, an orphan taken under his wing, and a northern barbarian living among imperial subjects. Life in any other province would have been far harsher for her.
"Hehe! Then I'm staying right here to protect it with you, Dad!"
In truth, every hour Marcus had poured into his duties as village chief was an act of profound love for his adopted daughter.
Oho… I can feel it… That bottomless sorrow… That nostalgic, misty-eyed gaze…
Kyle, having cleared The Swordsman the Young Ladies Are Obsessed With countless times, could read her like an open book. Right about now, the twenty-one-year-old barbarian maiden's youthful emotions had to be gushing forth like a geyser.
Time to drive it home.
Every single beat of this confrontation had been meticulously orchestrated by the reformed Kyle.
"That is why I had to make a decision."
Swish.
Kyle turned back to face her, revving his engine for the final act. Bathed in the radiant sunlight streaming through the window, he looked nothing short of a divine statue sculpted by the gods.
"Dismissing Elder Marcus was the only way to dissolve the meaningless title of village chief."
And the true purpose behind his dismissal?
"So that I could establish the official post of Salvatore Autonomous Representative, answering directly to the lord."
Rather than leaving him with an informal, powerless honorary title like village chief, Kyle intended to install Marcus into a formally recognized office endowed with genuine bureaucratic authority.
"…What? What did you say?!"
Snap!
Kyle's calculated strike landed with pinpoint precision. Landing like a thunderous body blow, it snapped Jasmine right out of her tearful reverie, her head jerking upward in utter disbelief.
"Exactly as I said. A representative of civic autonomy, endowed with legal executive power under my direct oversight."
Step, step, step.
Basking in the stunned awe on her face, Kyle strolled back toward his polished desk.
"Elder Marcus is an exceptional talent. His administrative aptitude aside, his heartfelt devotion to the people of this fief moves me deeply. In many respects, I consider him a mentor from whom I have much to learn."
Leaning casually against the rim of his desk, Kyle flaunted his imposing 189-centimeter frame as he looked down at Jasmine seated across from him.
"It is my duty to cherish such talent and employ it effectively. To achieve that, he required an official appointment. That is the whole of the matter."
Kyle de Rosen was truly a two-faced rogue. How could a man flip a situation on its head so effortlessly? He had played the cold, ruthless noble early on, only to unveil his true intent draped in lavish praise for Marcus.
"I… I had no idea… and here I…"
"Of course you didn't. Close as you may be, Lady Jasmine, as the territorial lord, I cannot consult you on every administrative reform."
Thud.
He wasn't done yet. Seating himself behind the desk once more, Kyle offered her a taste of lordly benevolence with just the right touch of aloof charm.
"Elder Marcus never abandoned this land. Not when our ducal house turned its back on it. Not when the settlers trickled away one by one. Not when Salvatore was reduced to utter nothingness. He stood guard over this domain."
Now came the finishing stroke to stir her heart to tears.
"To approach such a man now and simply say, 'You've worked hard, so please step down'—no matter how I considered it, that felt entirely shameless."
He added a subtle, sorrowful shake of his head for good measure.
"Therefore, to establish proper protocol, I resorted to a somewhat heavy-handed measure. If this has distressed you, his daughter, I ask that you forgive me with an open heart."
Flawless.
Ah… Ahh…
The gambit paid off immediately.
Was I… wrong to doubt him so quickly…?
The rebellious Jasmine was now drowning in guilt.
Step, step, step.
Overcome with awkward sheepishness and self-reproach, Jasmine timidly approached Kyle's desk.
"Thank you… and I truly apologize, Young Master Kyle…"
Unlike their tense standoff in the forge two weeks prior, she bowed before him with genuine humility.
"Think nothing of it. You may see yourself out."
"Yes, Young Master Kyle…"
Kyle responded with cool indifference, nonchalantly shuffling through his papers. As Jasmine slipped out of the study, Kyle leaned back against his chair, soaking in a triumphant hit of dopamine.
Heheh… She's already calling me Kyle. Isn't this almost too easy?
Jasmine had always referred to him strictly as "My Lord." She had deliberately avoided using his name out of sheer antipathy. For her to adopt such a polite demeanor and address him by name meant her perception of him was undergoing a seismic shift.
Wait a moment…
Kyle's victorious smirk faded into a puzzled tilt of the head.
Even after all this, the notification didn't trigger.
Indeed. Despite executing several calculated maneuvers on Jasmine Barbara, no message stating that the worldline had altered had appeared, unlike with Elena or the Sword Princess.
The method might be different, but this still twists the worldline. In the original timeline, Kyle and Jasmine's relationship was an absolute trainwreck.
With the previous two heroines, he had severed bonds that were supposed to be strong; with Jasmine, he was mending a relationship that was supposed to be ruined.
Hmm… Not enough yet? Has Jasmine not opened her heart fully, or does this lack the weight to warp the worldline?
There was no rush.
I'll just keep working at it. I have plenty of time.
Besides, Kyle was never one to be entirely governed by a status window anyway.
Sigh… Kyle… Just how much are you suffering out in that barren wasteland of Salvatore…?
These days, Elena spent her time writing letters in her mind.
Whenever I tend to the sick, your hardships feel so much closer to my heart…
She had rationalized that Kyle was far too busy for her to disturb him first.
"Now, make sure to take this medicine every morning and evening after meals. You must not skip a dose, understand? That's the only way you'll recover quickly. If you're still in this state next time, I'll know you disobeyed me and refuse to treat you."
"Thank you… Thank you so much, Lady Elena…"
"Take care now. Off you go."
She was on the verge of losing her mind. She desperately wanted to write to him, but her self-imposed rationalization tied her hands. She had penned drafts only to tear them to shreds, over and over again. As a result, she threw herself into volunteering to care for the infirm.
Just as she was packing up bandages to take a breather after attending to the patients, a voice piped up.
"My Lady! My Lady!"
Her personal maid, Carmen, called out in a shrill, excited tone.
"Catch your breath, Carmen. What on earth has happened?"
Carmen had served Elena since childhood and was a remarkably versatile maid. Her greatest specialty, above all else, was—
Whisper, whisper, whisper.
Information gathering.
With the expression of someone who had unearthed a massive secret, Carmen leaned in and buzzed into Elena's ear.
"Is that so? Truly?"
"Yes! The Marquis and the Duke spoke of it directly, so this isn't some cheap tavern gossip!"
The news concerned Kyle de Rosen.
The heir of a ducal house descending to Salvatore had sent megaton-level shockwaves through high society, spawning endless rumors. Some claimed the Duke had cast Kyle out, while others whispered that Kyle had half-lost his mind and gone into convalescence. Being well-versed in socialite chatter, Elena had paid no heed to such baseless slander despite her thirst for updates. But now, her right-hand maid had reeled in a massive catch.
"He's personally managing everything from farmlands to roads and administrative reforms?"
Elena's eyes went round as saucers as Carmen began her chatter in earnest.
Kyle? Really?
The old Kyle had been sharp, but he was a man obsessed with the sword who possessed zero administrative skill. Above all, he severely lacked virtue. In the original novel, his incompetence led him to try crushing Eugene Caesar with the ducal house's wealth and resources, only to orchestrate his own ruin. That was precisely why the Duke had insisted on a year of absence for heir training.
Elena was well aware of this flaw, and fond as she was of her childhood friend, she had harbored quiet concerns regarding his future as a successor. Yet the reports arriving from Salvatore painted a man completely foreign to the Kyle she knew.
"Yes! From the very first day, he joined hands with the settlers to boost their spirits, and work has been progressing at lightning speed! His reputation among the commoners is soaring by the day, My Lady!"
Nothing brought Carmen more joy than watching her mistress eagerly savor the intelligence she gathered. Seeing Elena's wide-eyed fascination, Carmen's excitement spiked through the roof.
He was serious… When he said he wanted to make a fresh start in Salvatore…
With this revelation, Kyle's claim that he was turning down their formal engagement to pursue his dream suddenly gained immense credibility in Elena's mind. It wasn't a cheap excuse concocted just to avoid her.
And he's utterly swamped… It's a relief I held back from sending a letter… How could he have time to spare when he's doing all that work himself?
Furthermore, Elena felt vindicated in her own actions. She had proven herself a thoughtful, supportive friend by refusing to distract him from his passionate endeavors.
A soft, contented smile graced Elena's lips.
"Still… it's admirable that he's working so hard, but I worry he's pushing himself to the brink. I heard he accepted financial aid but turned down personnel—even declining a detachment from the knightly order."
Ever the caring woman, Elena swiftly transitioned into fretful concern for her childhood friend. She ran her own volunteer organization, after all, and understood the delicate balance between manpower and workload all too well.
"The Duke was worried about that very thing, My Lady! But they say the mercenary corps Young Master Kyle personally recruited is astonishingly capable. The Duke was overjoyed, boasting that his son's eye for talent has grown remarkably keen."
The reformed Kyle de Rosen was solving every issue with flying colors. Duke Van Basten had spent the past few days doing nothing but singing his son's praises.
"A mercenary corps? Did he hire a renowned band?"
Having treated injured mercenaries numerous times, Elena was acutely aware of how crude, vulgar, and unruly sellswords could be. Carmen's glowing report struck her as peculiar.
"They call themselves the Red Fox Mercenary Corps. I looked into them, and while the corps itself isn't terribly famous, the commander and chief advisor have quite a reputation."
Carmen had thoroughly assembled her dossier on the Red Foxes.
"The Red Fox Mercenary Corps…?"
Elena paused, a tiny flicker of unease stirring in her chest.
Whenever a mercenary band uses 'fox' in their name…
Without exception, every mercenary company with "fox" in its moniker was led by a woman.
"They say the commander is an extraordinary beauty and an exceptional swordswoman. A fallen noblewoman, no less!"
Carmen, swept up in her own gossip, launched a precision missile that detonated right on target, laying out the profile of Veronica Leopold.
A woman?! A beauty?! A noblewoman?!!
Twitch!
In an instant, the gentle, caring gaze of the supportive childhood friend vanished—replaced by the predatory glare of a thoroughly provoked female.