The Count's Fatal Miscalculation

The Rodrell Count's estate stood in Santrel City. It was an old, deep-rooted noble house that had maintained its lineage for generations—a family of nobles among nobles, legitimate to its very core. Yet lately its prestige and political influence had begun to erode naturally. There were two main reasons. One was the incompetent heir. The other was that the family's reach no longer carried the weight it once had.

Faced with an unprecedented crisis, Count Rodrell had no choice but to act with desperate urgency. No answer to this. He was racking his brains over the situation. His influence was already shrinking, his position weakening, and his sole successor was busy wasting his days on women and luxury. Rodrell wanted nothing more than to throw the boy out, but a family with such deep legitimacy could not simply expel its only heir. On top of that, his connections with other nobles were drying up. Despite being a renowned count house, they were fading into irrelevance.

Seeing his family follow the classic path of fallen houses throughout history, the solution he devised was to bring in an outside force. Overcoming their current predicament would require external help from someone influential enough to lead them forward. The person who immediately came to mind was the Archmage.

That name was almost taboo among the nobility. But for that very reason, it was also their only lifeline right now. The Magic Tower has been expanding into business lately. They were pushing full-scale commercialization and popularization of magic. The most well-known achievement was the development of Communication Orbs—devices that allowed instant long-distance communication regardless of distance—and the production of a massive quantity of them. Even with just that public information, every noble knew the Magic Tower was simultaneously launching multiple magic-related ventures.

If those businesses could take root in Santrel City, where he held power, and if he could forge a solid connection with the Tower, a rapid rise wasn't impossible. But first he needed a reason for the Magic Tower to establish operations in his city. The method he settled on was to destroy the factory currently running in Bestia City.

If problems arose at the Bestia factory, the blame would naturally fall on its lord, Count Reborn. Even if the Magic Tower's business seemed unrelated to the local lord on the surface, the sheer name value and influence of the Tower meant that merely hosting one of their factories granted the lord enormous sway. Knowing this, Count Reborn had poured his heart into supporting the project, building a deep relationship. But when trouble struck, suspicion would turn toward the lord. The Magic Tower, now distrustful, would surely withdraw from the area.

That was when Rodrell would approach them and lure the operation to Santrel City. Of course, the key question was exactly how to create problems at the factory. On that front, Count Rodrell already had a plan. The method was to bribe a vassal who had served the Reborn family faithfully for thirty years.

He knew it was nearly impossible, but he had taken the man's family as leverage. It might look cowardly and petty, but Rodrell felt no guilt. His only goal was to revive his declining house. He had ordered the vassal to make it look like every important item inside the factory had vanished—hiding them all in one location—and then waited impatiently for news.

It'll work. It has to work. Count Rodrell repeated the words like a mantra, believing without a shred of doubt that success was certain. As far as he could see, the plan had no flaws.

What he had overlooked, however, was that the Archmage—who hated anyone touching what was his more than anything, and flew into a rage at the slightest interference with magic—had decided to handle the matter personally. If the Archmage had been the type to shrug it off or remain indifferent, things might have ended with a simple factory withdrawal, just as Rodrell hoped. Instead, the scheme had provoked the Archmage himself.

And the result was—

A cataclysmic disaster descended upon his mansion.

"W-what's going on?!"

The enormous roar shook the entire building. As Count Rodrell shouted in confusion, the office door exploded inward with another deafening BANG! and a figure stormed in.

"What does it look like?"

A man casually answered the count's own question. Black hair, blue robe—the Archmage was staring straight at him. The moment Rodrell recognized the intruder, he sucked in a sharp breath. The being every noble feared had appeared in his home. D-did he find out?

His face drained of all color as the worst-case scenario flashed through his mind. The Archmage's presence here was proof that he had uncovered everything.

"M-Master of the Magic Tower! Please, just hear me out! I can explain!"

"Hmm. Even if I listen, I doubt I'll be convinced. Why would I bother listening to some bastard trying to sabotage someone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠else's business?"

"I-it's a misunderstanding! I wasn't trying to—!"

The count's words were cut off as Leon grabbed him by the throat.

"Urk...!"

"To be honest? I'm in a pretty shitty mood right now. I absolutely hate it when people mess with anything connected to me. Especially when they do it with that smug, brazen attitude."

"T-that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wasn't my intention...! I just wanted to... relocate the factory...!"

"Relocate it?"

Leon released his grip. Freed from the chokehold, Count Rodrell gasped out his explanation in a rush.

"I-if something happened at the Bestia City factory, they'd have to shut it down. Then I planned to approach carefully and convince them to build the new one in Santrel City instead."

"On purpose?"

"R-recently my house has been on the verge of collapse. I determined that external help was necessary to pull us back up."

Leon immediately saw through the count's scheme. "So you mess with my business to force the factory here, naturally creating ties with the Magic Tower's operations, and use that to revive your failing house. That about right?"

"Y-yes, exactly."

"So in the end you did touch my business. Correct?"

"The goods are perfectly fine! I only hid them temporarily!"

"That doesn't erase what you did."

Leon had never let anyone who touched what was his get away unscathed. He wasn't some spineless pushover. If he lacked power, maybe he could endure it—but he didn't lack power. At this point, there was practically no one in the world who could touch him. Not even the Emperor could pressure or force him; their relationship was closer to the Emperor making polite requests backed by funding. If even the Emperor couldn't strong-arm him, there was no chance he'd tolerate some minor noble brazenly interfering with his affairs.

Yet here that very noble stood, bold as brass. From the count's perspective it might have seemed like a clever plan, but to Leon it was irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was the single fact that this noble had dared to meddle in his business.

Normally he would have crushed the man so thoroughly not even bones remained. But It's kind of annoying. The situation had turned unexpectedly bland. The nobles who'd challenged him before at least provided some educational entertainment. This one hadn't tried to obstruct or destroy the business—he'd caused trouble hoping to receive help instead. His current attitude was utterly submissive.

Of course, that didn't erase what he'd already done. Still, compared to the nobles Leon had destroyed in the past, this was enough to warrant some leniency. Besides, there wasn't even any satisfaction in stomping him into the ground.

After a brief moment of consideration, Leon nodded. He'd made his decision regarding the count's punishment.

"I'll let this one slide."

"R-really?!"

"Yeah."

The usual reason for crushing people like this was to deliver a clear warning and lesson. Since that wasn't necessary here, there was no real point in going hard. So he decided to show mercy—but not without compensation.

"That doesn't mean I'm letting you off for free."

Because of this one idiot, Leon had been forced to interrupt his research, endure the annoyance of traveling here, watch a perfectly running factory come to a halt, and witness ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an innocent man—Count Reborn—along with his loyal vassal get blackmailed with their families and driven to betrayal. That kind of trouble deserved appropriate payback.

"A count's house should have quite a few valuable things lying around, right?"

No matter how much money he had, the Magic Tower's budget was always insufficient. Leon looked at the count and smiled.

"You have a treasure vault, don't you? Let's open it."

The factory theft incident in Bestia City wrapped up quickly. Using the event as leverage, Leon squeezed an enormous sum of money out of Count Rodrell, and the factory resumed normal operations.

For the record, there was a little behind-the-scenes story to all this.

Right before heading to the Rodrell estate, I had sent a letter to the Emperor. The content was simple: the Rodrell family had messed with my business, so I was going to deal with them—please handle the cleanup.

But things didn't go exactly as I'd planned. In the end I settled for wringing a fortune out of them. The problem was that I forgot to update the Emperor on this new development.

Not knowing the full story, the Emperor saw that the Rodrell family was still intact and assumed I'd left the final blow to him. So he proceeded to utterly demolish the entire house. What's more, since he knew exactly how much effort I'd poured into that business, when he heard that he'd crushed them so thoroughly they could never recover, he grew somber.

Even so, that was a bit much... It's unfortunate, but what can you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do? If you think about it, he brought it on himself. Still, if there's one thing I learned from this whole affair, it's that people really should live kindly.