Fief Tax (6)
“Purify every last scrap of sin that clings to this place—leave nothing behind!”
Holy knights, sword in one hand and torch in the other, rolled their eyes back and began setting everything ablaze. Count Richmond went deathly pale, frozen in helpless confusion.
“W-what in the world is this all of a sudden…?”
We were no better off. Elena nearly jumped out of her skin at the holy knights’ abrupt appearance. The musketeers and staff exchanged uneasy glances, equally lost.
Those bastards have lost their minds.
I alone knew why the temple was doing this. I squeezed my eyes shut and hung my head.
“Merciful Eris, forgive them their sins, and gather their souls unto Your bosom.”
“Grant us strength to cast out the dominion of darkness that hangs over this land and to establish Your will anew.”
Even as the village roared into flame behind them, the priests advanced toward us in a body, chanting their prayers. Absolute lunatics.
“Purification Work?! Rohan, what the hell happened here?!”
Elena finally snapped back to herself, seizing my arm in a panic.
“That’s something they only do when a cleric has been murdered or the undead are loose!”
I didn’t even pretend to listen. I bit down hard on my lip and sank into my own thoughts.
If those maniacs burn the lord’s castle too, everything I’ve done goes up in smoke.
Elena was right—there were only two situations in which the temple was permitted to use force: the death of a cleric, or an incident caused by something officially branded heretical. Demons weren’t treated quite the same as the undead, but abnormal circumstances born of demonic influence were another matter entirely. Saintess and Phai-ton had clearly decided to proceed with Purification Work.
And for all the lofty name, Purification Work was nothing more than a scorched-earth operation—people, houses, everything reduced to ash.
Whether he chose it or not, a bishop died because of a demon. That’s more than enough justification.
It was an act of overwhelming violence capable of wiping an entire region clean. That made Purification Work politically radioactive—something both the Imperial Court and noble society could seize upon as extreme and insane. The fact that they were pushing ahead anyway meant they had both the pretext and the resolve.
The problem was that if they torched the lord’s castle along with everything else, my entire plan would turn to ash.
Elena already marched in with the musketeers and turned Count Richmond into a traitor. Now Purification Work on top of that? Damn it all—nothing ever goes my way.
Why had I been crazy enough to throw myself against that shield and stir up this whole mess? So I could take the blame for launching an overly aggressive tax audit driven by personal feelings and needlessly provoking Count Richmond into open conflict. But if those zealots reduced the Richmond fief to a wasteland, it was over. There wouldn’t even be evidence left that I’d cooked up a flimsy excuse for the audit in the first place.
Finish everything before the Purification Work is done.
After a moment’s thought, I raised my voice toward Count Richmond on the palisade.
“Open the gates and cooperate at once! Surrender to us now and I’ll do everything in my power to see that at least your life is spared!”
“Now you say that?! Shut your damn mouth! I’d rather burn to death! No one sets foot inside this castle!”
Count Richmond, far past reason, rejected the offer out of hand. So he was choosing death after all. Fair enough—it was probably too late to turn back.
With the count answering like that, there was only one path left.
“Secretariat Rhea, follow me.”
“Sir…?!”
“We’re going into the lord’s castle and checking the warehouses before the temple burns everything to the ground.”
“W-wait, Tax Collector, what are you saying?! How are we supposed to get inside the castle in the middle of this chaos…?”
“Through the drainage channel.”
“……!!”
While Rhea stammered in pure horror, Elena stepped squarely into my path and shook her head hard.
“Have you lost your mind?! Is that what matters right now? Count Richmond is finished either way! Even if he survives the Purification Work, he’s getting dragged off for treason!”
“Elena, I trust you. Buy me some time.”
“No—what are you even trying to do?!”
“I need to secure evidence at the very least.”
“You—you absolute…!”
Elena’s whole body trembled as she glared at me with bloodshot eyes raw from exhaustion. Then, just as quickly, she let out a resigned sigh and scratched the back of her head.
“Fine. That’s so very like you.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean? Why does she talk like she already knows everything about me? And what exactly is ‘like me,’ anyway?
I was so floored I snorted out loud.
“Imperial Army commanders, listen up! Form a defensive square immediately and seal off the front of the lord’s castle!”
Whether I snorted or not, Elena’s face hardened as she issued orders to the musketeers. The soldiers who had been hanging back waiting for cues locked into a tight square formation—blocking both sides at once.
Just hold on a little longer. I’ll be right back.
Watching Elena’s back as she took the lead of the musketeers, I set off with Rhea at my side.
For someone with a background in the Intelligence Bureau, slipping into a lord’s castle this tiny was child’s play. The trouble was I wasn’t going alone. Bringing Rhea—who had zero experience with this sort of thing—made it considerably harder. Especially when the infiltration route was a drainage channel swimming with every kind of filth imaginable.
“Urgh…! Hk—!”
Rhea followed close behind me, fighting down one gag after another. The way she strained not to make a sound was almost pitiable.
I had no choice but to bring her, but this is turning into a real problem.
I’d considered leaving her behind. But with the temple forces closing in, I simply didn’t have enough time to handle everything alone. And I couldn’t exactly bring someone who knew nothing about fief taxes or tax audits. So Rhea it was—except at this rate we’d be spotted by whoever was still inside the moment we climbed out of the drain.
When it comes to tax law, Rhea knows more than I do. At this point, I’ll just have to buy the time myself.
I decided to be the bait. I needed to make as much noise as possible so Rhea could move around safely.
“Rhea, I’m going out first to draw their attention. You wait here a moment, then come out and gather everything we need.”
“Sir?! I-isn’t that far too dangerous?”
“There’s no other way. And I’m used to this kind of work, so don’t worry too much.”
“Ah. I meant I was worried about you…”
“Ahem.”
“Will there be hazard pay or performance bonuses for this?”
Is that really what matters right now? Good grief. The money demon has her completely possessed.
Caught completely off guard by the question, I sucked in a breath and nodded instead of answering.
“You’ll make sure the travel allowance and overtime pay are covered too, right? And if I die here, will my family receive compensation?”
“Finish the job properly and I’ll recommend you to the Minister for a medal.”
“Just give me any order you want. Should I be the one buying time instead?”
“That… won’t be necessary.”
Money over her own life, is it? They say nothing’s scarier than poverty—this greed is genuinely awe-inspiring.
Shaking my head in disbelief, I climbed out of the drainage channel.
The final destination was the young lady’s bedchamber. Nowhere else would draw eyes quite so effectively.
“Intruder!”
“He’s heading for the young lady’s chambers! Inform the Count at once!”
The moment I strode openly through the castle, the guards who spotted me gave chase in stiff, mechanical voices. Knights in full plate were among them.
A proper count’s household, is that it?
Fighting knights swinging aura blades would take far too long. So I darted this way and that like a flying squirrel, leading them on a merry chase. It wasn’t difficult. I’d done this sort of thing more times than I could count.
Quite a few still left inside. Because of the young lady, maybe.
Like the Pied Piper, I soon had a throng of knights and soldiers trailing in my wake.
—Crash! Bang!
“Rohan Blackwood!!”
Before long, Count Richmond’s bellow joined the din as he came running on the news. Sensing the atmosphere was ripe, I ended the game of tag and made for the young lady’s chambers.
Dodging the soldiers packing the corridor, I vaulted through a window, caught the ivy clinging to the outer wall, and swung through open air.
—Creak!
Fortunately I’d mapped the layout on my first visit a few days earlier, so finding the young lady’s room was no trouble. Through the window I confirmed her peaceful sleeping face, then opened it and slipped inside.
“Youuu basstaaard!!!”
What impeccable timing. Count Richmond burst into the room with his knights right on cue.
“Shh.”
A thin smile on my lips, I set my index finger against the young lady’s throat.
Taking a sick, unconscious little girl hostage. Even I had to admit there wasn’t a more shameless scoundrel alive. But playing the villain was familiar work…
“Y-you—! You! You!”
Count Richmond was so horrified he couldn’t form proper words. His face flushed scarlet as he waved his hands frantically.
“Take one more step and you won’t like what happens next.”
“N-no!”
“You should have listened when I was being nice.”
“Calm yourself! J-just calm down and take that hand away! She’s a sick child!”
“Ah. Do you happen to know I used to work for the Intelligence Bureau?”
“……!!”
“I gave you a chance. You’re the one who threw it away. So don’t hate me too much.”
To buy every second I could, I kept the hostage drama going, mouth running without pause.
Then, suddenly, an unplaceable sense of wrongness wrapped around my entire body.
—Beware the girl.
At the same instant, the demon inside me issued a warning.
I whipped my head around toward the young lady—and froze.
The girl who had been lying there like a vegetable was staring straight at me with eyes of pure black, not a trace of white to be seen.
“Li—Lilia!!”
The count tried to rush to her, tears streaming—only to fall backward at the bone-chilling, metallic rasp that spilled from the young lady’s parched lips.
Damn it…!
Sensing something had gone terribly wrong, I tried to yank my arm free. In that same instant both of the young lady’s hands shot out like lightning and clamped onto my forearm.
“You. Who are you?”
The count’s daughter grinned up at me, mouth stretched so wide it looked ready to tear. The voice that came out was a nauseating blend of a young girl’s and a middle-aged man’s. My face twisted in pure revulsion.