The Eve of the Storm (3)
Jeron woke up early in the morning, preparing to head toward the Farrow Forest.
The Farrow Forest.
It was a piece of land that the previous Baron Farrow had quietly absorbed long ago.
Back then, the Farrow family had not hit rock bottom as they had recently, so the Rebion family had chosen not to make an issue of it. It simply wasn't worth starting a territory war over a single useless forest.
But the situation was very different now.
Thanks to Jeron's political maneuvering, the forest had been packaged as if it contained a rich iron mine. With the Farrow territorial army looking like a bunch of weaklings, Viscount Rebion's greed had finally reached its boiling point.
For the past few days, Viscount Rebion had been sending messengers to constantly push for a meeting. Jeron had only agreed yesterday, and the Viscount had immediately sent word to meet today.
Only a minimal escort was mobilized for today's talks, as the atmosphere between the two families was still technically amicable.
The escort consisted of ten knights and two hundred soldiers.
Sir Leila, who was in charge of Jeron's personal security, arrived at the office.
"My Lord, preparations are complete."
"Is that so? Then let's go."
Jeron steeled his resolve.
He had to use this opportunity to shave off as much of Viscount Rebion's territory as possible. Only then would he not have to look at that pig-faced Viscount's face ever again.
"My Looooord!"
Just as Jeron was about to leave his office, Sir Garcia came running in, completely out of breath.
"What is it?"
"A carrier pigeon has arrived from Lady Celia! But the contents...!"
"What about the contents?"
"The King intends to purchase the item coming up in the next auction!"
"What!?"
Jeron's face contorted instantly.
The King was buying it?
If he had gone so far as to send someone to Celia to sound out her intentions directly, it wasn't a simple offer to buy. It was practically a threat to hand it over.
"He says he will pay a generous price, but how should we draft the reply?"
"Are you insane? Selling it to the King for money? Do you want us to be cursed by the entire kingdom?"
"Then... we must present it as a gift?"
"Wow, the King has no conscience. Trying to swallow it for free."
"We could look at this positively," Sir Leila spoke up quietly.
"Positively?"
"His Majesty is the sovereign of the nobility. He must know that if he receives something, he must give something in return. If you win this territory war, my Lord, wouldn't he immediately grant you a promotion in rank?"
"...!"
Jeron and Sir Garcia's eyes widened at the same time.
Why didn't I think of that?
If he gifted another masterpiece to the King, the King would owe Jeron twice. The first debt was the permission for the territory war under somewhat unreasonable conditions, and the second debt would lead to Jeron's promotion.
As Sir Leila said, the King was the sovereign of this country. Even if the princes split into factions and fought, the nobles ultimately had to obey the King's absolute authority.
"Tell her to gift it."
"Yes! I will send word immediately!"
Sir Garcia vanished as noisily as he had arrived.
Jeron took a moment to consider the King's character. The current King was neither a tyrant nor a saint, but he was someone who definitely returned what he received. Leila's prediction was highly likely to come true.
"Not bad at all."
A single tent had been pitched in the Farrow Forest.
The weather was beginning to carry the autumn breeze, making the midday air cool. However, the man sitting across from Jeron, Viscount Rebion, seemed to find it incredibly hot, as he had brought along several maidservants just to fan him.
He was morbidly obese, his massive frame making it look difficult for him to even breathe. Sweat poured down the folds of his skin, creating a rather unpleasant sight. To make matters worse, the odor radiating from him was so foul that it was painful just to sit opposite him.
With superhuman patience, Jeron put on his business smile and greeted Viscount Rebion.
"Good to see you again, Viscount."
"Hahaha! Why call me Viscount? I told you to call me brother. This older brother has always thought of you as a younger brother."
"The hierarchy between nobles is strict, so how could I dare?"
"You really are something else."
Jeron and Viscount Rebion conversed with smiles, but the atmosphere between their knights was quite tense. The two lords had come to discuss a territory war. While the lords themselves wouldn't wield swords in the war, the knights certainly would, which made their silent confrontation fierce.
Viscount Rebion gulped down his watered-down wine. Looking as if he could finally breathe, he began to steer the conversation.
"Personally, I find this whole situation quite regrettable. This older brother has no desire to touch this small piece of land, but my knights and soldiers are clamoring for it, so what can I do? You must know how it is, ruling a territory. We lords have no choice but to be sensitive to the morale of our troops."
"How could I not know? I understand completely."
"Since the situation is as it is, I had no choice but to look for a solution. If I may make a proposal, how about we hold a small contest with this land on the line?"
"A contest? I do not know if the royal court will approve it."
"Assuming it is approved?"
"If we assume that."
This was the main point. Viscount Rebion had been babbling all this time just to say this. However, this entire situation had been engineered by Jeron. It had to look as though Viscount Rebion was the one desperately pushing for it.
"Even if it is approved, wouldn't it be a loss for me? How could I possibly match blades with the distinguished Viscount?"
"It seems you are not pleased with risking a territory war just to have your claim to this single forest recognized?"
"To be honest, yes."
"Hahaha! Right, I underestimated my brother's ambition."
Shhhk!
Viscount Rebion spread out a map of the territory. It was not a military map, so it was roughly drawn, showing only a general outline of the Baron Farrow's territory. It wasn't completely useless, but to Jeron, who knew how precise Earth's maps were, this parchment was practically garbage.
Viscount Rebion drew a thick line across a large portion of his territory. It was a piece of land that included not just a forest, but five villages.
"Would this be enough to satisfy you?"
"Viscount, let's go bigger. We have the title of a territory war on the line, we cannot be this petty."
"I-Is that so? Then why don't you draw it?"
Jeron drew a line all the way to Parean, one of the major cities owned by the Rebion family. Centered around the city were ten villages, representing nearly thirty percent of the Rebion family's total land.
This absurd demand almost made Viscount Rebion's mask slip.
What a greedy bastard!
The Viscount family owned three cities in total. Parean was the most developed city after the capital of the territory, so this proposal sounded completely insane.
Viscount Rebion could not accept this and was about to object immediately. However, Jeron was faster.
"And I will wager Parean."
"What!?"
"Shouldn't it be at least this much to make a territory war worthwhile?"
"If you wager Parean, the Farrow Plains will fall into my hands."
"Fortunately, we were able to expand our territory to the Lamberin River this time. We can always build another city, can we not?"
"Ho."
Jeron's immense boldness momentarily left the Viscount speechless.
If Viscount Rebion took Parean, which belonged to the Farrow territory, he would automatically gain control of a massive granary. By simple calculation, his wheat production would increase by thirty percent.
"Aren't you pushing it too far?"
"I simply dislike looking petty."
"If you lose, you will suffer a devastating blow."
"Hahaha! Even so, the friendship between our families will continue, so it does not matter."
I thought he was smart, but is he just a madman?
Viscount Rebion could not understand Jeron's thinking at all. This reaction came from his absolute certainty that he would win if a territory war broke out.
Jeron decided to egg the Viscount on a bit more.
"I do not believe the Viscount is a man of small caliber. A true man should make a wager of this scale. Otherwise, there is no reason to fight a territory war. A mere mine? Who would care about that?"
"Are you speaking seriously?"
"A man does not speak empty words!"
"Hmm..."
The Viscount fell into deep thought. He tried to figure out what Jeron was relying on.
If he is this confident, has he prepared some special weapon?
The Viscount tried to read Jeron's thoughts, but failed. Jeron was also incredibly sharp, and thanks to his memories of his past life, he was an expert at hiding his expressions.
At this point, the Viscount had no choice but to ask directly.
"What is it that you trust so much?"
"The protection of the Guardian Dragon, of course. If a territory war breaks out, wouldn't it offer some assistance?"
"What!? Hahahaha!"
The Viscount laughed in disbelief. Until now, he had overlooked Jeron's age. Jeron was only in his late teens, a new lord who had just inherited his title this year. It was common for boys to indulge in fantasies.
Viscount Rebion had previously evaluated Jeron as a capable lord, but looking at him now, it seemed he was merely riding on the coattails of the old lord's foundation.
To think he relies on a guardian dragon from legends!
Thud!
The Viscount slammed the table and laughed heartily.
"Bwahaha! This older brother is truly impressed! Yes, a man's ambition should be at least this grand. Indeed."
"Are we in agreement then?"
"Let us make a preliminary agreement first. Once the central government grants approval, we will draft a formal contract based on this. What do you say?"
"Sounds good! After all, even if we write it down like this, we do not know if the central government will approve it."
"You are absolutely right, brother!"
Jeron and Viscount Rebion packaged their nonsense beautifully. The two lords made a preliminary agreement as if it were nothing, but the contents were terrifying. If a city was lost, the Farrow family could face complete ruin. As for Viscount Rebion? He would lose his granary, cities, and villages, collapsing back down to a mere Baron.
Both lords had their own hidden agendas, and because both expected to win, the agreement was finalized quickly. Although the official contract would have to go through a central official, the terms agreed upon here would be carried over exactly.
Although the value of Parean, which Jeron wagered, was 1.5 times higher than what Viscount Rebion put up, both parties signed without hesitation.
After finishing the preliminary agreement, they shook hands. They smiled at each other, but both hid daggers in their hearts.
You brat! Soon, you will lose all your territory and live as a ruined noble.
Viscount, it's time for you to step down to Baron, don't you think? The fact that a guy like you holds a higher rank than me makes me sick to my stomach.