Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Pauper Lord
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Meanwhile, at the very moment Kyle was supplying the territory with life-sustaining provisions plundered from the bandits, Haban Castle—which had staunchly guarded the north of the Depord Empire—went up in flames. It had crumbled under the onslaught of thousands? No, tens of thousands of elves who swarmed in, encircled the fortress, and laid siege to it over several days.
They looked nothing like the elves seen before. This was an army of a scale no single tribe could muster.
"Y-You barbaric scum!"
Count Haban held onto his pride until the very moment the castle fell. He didn't beg for his life, so just as he had done to the elves' emissary, his nose and ears were sliced off, and his body was hung from the walls. Of course, that didn't mean the nobles who did beg for mercy survived. They met the same fate, strung up beside him.
A sea of corpses and rivers of blood. What else could describe the state of Haban Castle now?
The territory's residents and soldiers who resisted to the bitter end were all slaughtered. The massacre was so thorough that the castle grounds squelched underfoot with blood at every step, and the piles of bodies made it hard to even walk. Thousands of crows circled overhead, their eyes gleaming.
"This matter concerns the war between the Cligrove Count's family and the Sarisa Count's family. My investigation team returned yesterday."
But in the Depord imperial court, where no one could have imagined Haban Castle falling to the elves, discussions were underway about a recent incident.
"The war between the Cligrove Count's family and the Sarisa Count's family... should be seen as a mere dispute between lords. Therefore, shouldn't the territory's ownership remain with Count Sarisa?"
This came from a noble of Duke Northmund's faction, who supported Count Sarisa. At his words, the neutral faction nobles, including Count Cligrove's allies, clicked their tongues in disgust.
"Hah... a mere dispute? Listen here! Count Sarisa—no, that man barely deserves the title—dishonored his nobility! What noble invites another to his castle only to try and kill him?"
"Th-That was..."
The nobles of Duke Northmund's faction, who had tried to shield him, were struck dumb. Even they thought Count Sarisa's actions were so reckless it made them wonder if the man had lost his mind.
Even if they somehow argued to keep the territory from being seized, Count Sarisa would have to live like a mouse in hiding until he died. Never showing his face in the capital again.
The emperor, who had been silently listening to the nobles amid Duke Northmund's quiet demeanor, slammed the armrest of his jade throne.
Thud!
It was a small gesture and sound, easy to miss if one wasn't paying attention, but it instantly silenced the nobles.
If the emperor had simply declared confiscation of a noble's territory for himself or handed it to another, it might have caused issues... but this was clearly Count Sarisa's fault.
"The dispute between Cligrove and Sarisa is unequivocally Count Sarisa's wrongdoing. To invite him to his castle under the pretext of begging mercy for war reparations, only to try to kill him—that's abandoning even the honor of a noble."
"Your Majesty speaks most wisely!"
"Count Sarisa isn't fit to be called a noble!"
Fearing they might be too late, the nobles outside Duke Northmund's faction hurriedly praised the emperor. Naturally, the duke's faction sat with sour faces, unable to utter a word given the count's guilt.
"From this moment, the ownership of the territory held by Count Sarisa transfers to Count Cligrove. Summon the count and grant him the new lands..."
"But Your Majesty... Count Cligrove has collapsed for unknown reasons. Currently, his daughter, the Lady of Cligrove Count, is leading the territory in his stead."
The nobles murmured. The sudden collapse of Count Cligrove had been quite the scandal in high society before.
Some whispered that Count Sarisa had used dark curses amid their feud; others claimed it was a stroke due to overwork. Of course, these rumors stemmed from a masked ball where identities were hidden.
In any case, the emperor nodded upon recalling Count Cligrove's collapse. In that case, his sole heir, the Lady of Cligrove, should come.
"Then it would be best to summon the Lady of Cligrove to the capital. Bring the vassal to whom the territory will be granted as well."
A summons for granting new lands. The emperor's letter was placed in a courier's satchel and departed the capital.
"We're short on funds, my lord."
It was Gringem speaking. The very next day after returning from subduing the bandits. After a pleasant morning teaching Cutter swordsmanship and heading to the manor, Gringem delivered his report with his usual blank expression: no budget left.
No way—the stuff we looted from the bandits was just yesterday. Had he skimmed some off the top? But Gringem wasn't the type.
"Wasn't the haul from yesterday substantial?"
"It was just enough to catch our breath. And only for the castle residents at that."
Gringem said we couldn't just look after the castle folk.
"The villages outside are supposed to harvest and pay taxes, but the army trampled the crops, and the bandits took the rest. If we don't secure funds now and buy grain, we won't survive the winter."
The castle was the territory's heart, where wealth concentrated, but the villages outside propped it up. That's why we'd tried not to kill during the bandit subjugation. Yet now those vital taxpayers would starve come winter?
The territory would be a hollow shell. No money left to hire knights or soldiers.
"...Any solutions?"
To my hopeful question, he shook his head. Unless we dug gold from the ground, no.
I closed my eyes briefly. I'd wanted to avoid it, but it seemed the forbidden measure was our only option.
Better than letting residents starve before winter and ruling an empty shell. I opened my eyes.
"Bring paper and a pen."
[To my sole liege and the honorable leader guiding Cligrove, under the great emperor's grace. In service to your command, regarding the Sarisa territory...]
I'd learned to write, but fancy words were still tough. I could ask Gringem for help, but sincerity mattered in these things. The letter was wordy, but boiled down to a simple plea for financial aid.
Of course, sending a letter wasn't enough. I couldn't keep leeching off the lady forever. We needed real funds to get every village through winter. If the villages all wiped out, we'd be truly screwed.
The lady would probably try to take my head for wrecking her gift of a territory. But I'd saved her life a few times, so maybe she'd spare me. Not the point right now.
"Any sources for quick cash?"
Gringem closed his eyes at my words. When he opened them, he replied indifferently.
"Two options."
Two?
"What are they? Speak."
"First, sell everything in the castle. Count Sarisa left plenty behind. Auction off the manor and castle contents, and we can make it through winter."
"...And second?"
"Borrow from merchants."
"First one."
After hearing both, I chose the first without hesitation. Living over twenty years in this world taught me one thing: the usury here made Earth's look tame.
Interest rates that'd slap Venetian moneylenders twice over sucked borrowers dry to the bone. As a noble now, I couldn't go that far, but still.
"Take this too!"
Once word spread that most bandits were dealt with, caravans poured into the castle. Having received Gringem's letters, their wagons were loaded with grain. Furniture, paintings, decorations—every noble luxury from the manor sold off.
"Three pounds. Anything else?"
Even now, Count Sarisa's goods were up for auction in front of the manor. The manor and castle emptied out as fast as they sold, but the granaries filled proportionally with cheap oats and barley.
Oats and barley were horse feed here, but we needed volume now—no choice but to eat them.
Even on advanced Earth with abundant food, people ate them for health. This was true leadership, caring for residents' well-being.
"Long live the lord!"
"Blessings of the gods upon the merciful Viscount Lucas Kyle!"
See? Even gruel of oats and barley earned otherworldly cheers for welfare and free meals unknown in this era.
If this saved the territory, the sold goods could be replaced anytime. Right now, winning hearts mattered more than wealth.
I comforted myself watching them go, then returned to the now-empty manor. Barely a week as lord, and it was a ghost town.
Anyone would think we'd been looted in the last war. Even surviving this winter, how about next spring, summer, fall? Nothing left to sell.
Sitting in the office with just desk and chair, lost in thought, someone knocked.
"Come in."
"Pardon the intrusion, my lord."
It was George, the guard captain and baron. He glanced at the barren office, then looked at me with pity. Normally, you'd offer tea, but now it'd be boiled barley sprouts.
I spoke quickly before his gaze grew too sympathetic.
"What brings you? Sorry, nothing to offer."
"Lowly mercenaries requested entry to the castle..."
Mercenaries? Not for a few stragglers.
"A company?"
He nodded. Mercenaries and a company were different. Lone mercs were vagrant criminals-in-waiting; a company was an army.
And not in a good way. Dozens of armed pro killers, plus families, made hundreds—terrifying to any. Most lords would bar the gates.
But...
"Meet their leader first. The rest wait outside."
To me, these mercs looked like customers ready to spend coin in the castle. Moments later, Baron George brought one in.