Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Shattered Domain
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“Wh-what..?”
It was the first thing we heard the moment we stepped inside. We passed through the wheat fields and strolled leisurely into the village, only for the peasants to stare at us with panicked expressions. I planted my drawn sword into the ground as I stood amid them.
“I am Lucas Kyle, viscount, newly appointed to govern this territory by the decree of His Imperial Majesty the great Emperor. Where is the village chief?”
In truth, I’d never heard any such decree from the Emperor, but mentioning him was meant to keep these folks from entertaining any foolish notions. In the current situation, they were valuable taxpayers—why risk losing tax revenue and hurting my own interests?
“I-I’ll fetch the village chief!”
Startled by this noble who’d shown up out of nowhere invoking the Emperor and declaring himself the new lord of the domain, one of the villagers bolted off in a hurry.
Not long after, a man who looked to be in his forties or fifties came panting up. Though he appeared at least seventy at first glance. Sunscreen didn’t exist in this world, and people here aged quickly anyway.
“What brings such a noble person all the way out here...”
The village chief glanced me up and down before dropping to his knees. Suspicion still lingered in his eyes, however. And rightly so—I’d arrived without a single escort. I wasn’t even on horseback. For all he knew, I could’ve been some wandering mercenary or rogue knight who’d rolled in from who-knows-where.
“I hear you’ve been engaging in banditry. Pillaging right here in the territory, no less.”
“N-no, that’s...”
The flustered village chief looked up, but I had no intention of sparing him anyway. He still saw the former count as his lord. Replacing him with someone loyal to me would make things much smoother down the line.
“Anyone who wants to be the next village chief, step forward. I’ll appoint you myself.”
That single statement sent murmurs rippling through the villagers encircling us. What was a village chief in this world? The pinnacle of power for a commoner—a ruler of the village.
They received a sliver of authority from the lord, freeing them from farmwork so they could lounge at home managing taxes. Sure, you needed to know numbers, but even if you didn’t, it wasn’t an issue. Just squeeze a little extra from the sheriffs. The villagers bore the brunt of it.
The peasants exchanged wary glances at the prospect of handing that over so easily, but the village chief shouted in denial.
“My family has held the position for generations! And what proof do you have that you’re truly a noble...”
I ignored him and addressed the surrounding farmers instead.
“Word is, you lot robbed a caravan here. There should be captured merchants around. Whoever brings me one gets the village chief’s seat.”
But what if he wasn’t a noble? What about the village chief’s retaliation? They seemed to be weighing those risks, eyeing each other hesitantly. But then—
Slash!
“Arghhh!”
The village chief clutched his severed finger, screaming in agony. As he wailed, I turned to the onlookers.
“What are you waiting for? This is your chance to become village chief. Do it now, and I’ll even commit your name to memory personally.”
My imposing build and armament didn’t look ordinary at a glance. Nor did the village chief’s finger, lopped off in an instant. The villagers hesitated, glancing at one another. Moments later—
“Waaah!”
“Out of the way!”
Men, women, young, and old alike surged toward the village chief’s house. All I had to do now was sit back without lifting a finger and wait for them to retrieve Mr. Gringem. Bonus: I’d install a compliant new village chief in the process.
The man who rose to the position through my power would have no choice but to serve me devotedly, guts and all. At least until his spot was fully secured.
“I’ve brought him!”
The one who dragged in Mr. Gringem was a burly fellow. His clothes were torn to shreds, hinting at fierce resistance from behind. Beaming with excitement at his impending promotion, he handed over Mr. Gringem and the workers with a grin.
“Caravan leader!”
Mr. Gringem and his workers looked just as battered as Rapork had when we first met—thoroughly beaten. Rapork rushed to support Mr. Gringem.
“Rapork... and you’re...”
His face was so swollen, the usual cold composure was unrecognizable. His clothes had been stripped away entirely. Only after Rapork rummaged through the village chief’s house for garments did he regain some semblance of his former self.
Dressed and fed water and soup, he quietly looked me over.
“Magic beast hunter...”
“Now, Viscount Lucas Kyle.”
Mr. Gringem let out a hollow laugh at my words.
“Your sense of humor’s improved in the meantime. Where’d you get that armor?”
He clearly didn’t buy that I’d become a viscount in just a few months. I simply smiled without another word.
“Believe what you want, but let’s head to the castle first. Looks like they took everything you had.”
“Maybe it’d be better to die here. I’ve lost it all.”
His despairing demeanor prompted the new village chief candidate to loot the old one’s house clean—but it yielded only a few pounds. Far short of Mr. Gringem’s fortune. I’d interrogated the chief before killing him, and he’d wailed that the three villages had split the rest before dying.
“Milord... this is everything we received...”
The new chief, sharp enough to cough up his own cut too, still only managed a pittance. In the end, Mr. Gringem had fallen as a merchant.
I took the despondent man with me to the castle. He might want to die from his perspective, but someone like him could rebuild from scratch. Worst case, if he didn’t want to merchant again, I could use him as talent to manage my domain.
He said nothing the entire way, just hung his head and walked.
Regardless of Mr. Gringem’s state, it took another full day’s march to reach the castle. Sarisa Castle bore stark scars of war—craters from trebuchet stones and incendiaries. Listless soldiers sat around aimlessly atop the ruins.
Cutter muttered at the sight.
“Thieves could take this place right now.”
Thieves could take it. Kyle couldn’t argue with that. The castle’s state was utterly wrecked, even to his eyes.
“Who goes there?”
A single apathetic guard greeted them. Looking like he’d pulled a double shift without relief, the exhausted man eyed Kyle, then widened his eyes in recognition. He remembered that face—the one who’d wreaked havoc inside and taken the count hostage.
“H-heck! The Cligrove...!”
But he knew better than to say more. Insulting a noble further could cost him his head.
“P-please wait a moment! I’ll fetch the guard captain right away!”
At that, Kyle dredged up old memories. The Sarisa guard captain had been...
“Was it Hamund Valda, the baron?”
The guard shook his head. Hamund Valda, the baron, had been unlucky enough to get crushed by a trebuchet stone in the last war.
“Baron Hamund fell in the previous battle. Now, Baron George holds the guard captain position.”
“Bring him then. I am Viscount Lucas Kyle.”
“Right away!”
The guard hurried off toward Baron George. Ever since taking the guard captain role, the man had spent most of his time in one place. Today, as usual, he was in the castle’s sole high-end tavern, frolicking with women.
“Oh! James! What brings you here? Isn’t it still your shift?”
“Never mind that! Where’s the baron?”
“The captain? He’s in the back room.”
“Baron! Baron George!”
Baron George scowled at the shouts from outside. Who dared interrupt his fun? The domain was done for anyway. His lord had been dragged off, and everyone knew what he’d done, so George figured his fate ended here.
Or perhaps it hinged on whoever became the domain’s next master after the Sarisa count. But why would a new lord value him? He’d likely be shoved aside to endure scorn from the new lord’s imported nobles.
Thus, he was skimming taxes from the sheriffs and blowing it all now. The castle’s one fancy tavern was thriving off his spending.
“Baron George!”
“Damn it all... Who is it? Hey! Go see who’s out there!”
Irritated by the persistent calls, George beckoned a waiting servant. Moments later, the servant returned with the frantic guard.
“You’re...”
“Guard James, sir! But Baron! Big trouble!”
“You lowly cur... If it’s nothing, your head...”
But his words trailed off.
“Viscount Lucas Kyle is at the gates right now! That monster knight who took the count hostage!”
“......What?”
Baron George’s face drained of color as Kyle’s image flashed in his mind. He remembered him clearly—fighting like a beast amid hundreds of knights and dozens of swordsmen.
He’d been overwhelmed by numbers in the end, but that ferocity wasn’t easily forgotten. And somehow, he’d escaped prison and taken the count hostage.
“That madman’s here?”
His title had jumped ranks, but with merits like that, it was odd Cligrove had let him go. Probably handed him the viscountcy to fully claim that count’s daughter.
Thinking that, he hastily donned his discarded armor. He still held the guard captain post, after all. By the time he reached the gates, he faced the man two heads taller than himself once more.
“A pleasure. I am Baron George Gloomburn, in charge of this castle’s defenses.”
“You’re quite late. I am Viscount Lucas Kyle.”
“I know. You were a baron before, surely...”
“The lady bestowed an undeserved position upon me.”
So why come here? George wondered. Kyle smirked.
“I’ve come to govern this territory at the lady’s command.”
“.....”
The shocking declaration left George speechless. What did this man just say? Govern the domain? Thoughts raced through his head. But he hadn’t kept his barony by accident—his family heir position was secured by pure talent.
He composed himself in an instant and forced a smile.
“Haha! My mistake—I must’ve misheard. What was that again..?”
“I said the lady commanded me to govern this territory. You know Cligrove Count now holds rightful claim to this domain, yes?”