Fief Tax (8)
"By the august command of His Imperial Majesty, until a new lord arrives, administration of this place falls to me, Elena Astoria, Minister of the Treasury."
Before the throng that had gathered like a storm cloud before the lord's castle, Elena strode forward with commanding presence and raised her voice.
"From this moment, I shall expose every last one of the countless atrocities Count Richmond has committed. Senior Secretariat Rhea—begin your report."
The instant the words left her mouth, Rhea arrived with the help of the Special Tax Collection Unit, hauling an enormous scale, a set of weights, and assorted sacks of grain dragged out from the storehouses.
"In order to fund his daughter's treatment, Count Richmond not only drained his entire family fortune—he also defaulted on his fief tax and created tax schemes on essential goods such as firewood and salt, exploiting the people of his domain."
"Is Senior Secretariat Rhea's account true?"
Following the script they had prepared in advance, Elena tipped her chin toward the fief's people and asked. Without exception, their faces flushed crimson as they nodded as one.
"It's true! That mad lord taxed firewood so hard that countless people froze to death!"
"We even had to pay a tax just to bury our own family!"
I had assumed Count Richmond must have been a decent lord. Faced with the fury of his people, I squeezed my eyes shut.
"And that wasn't all! He threatened to send every last one of us to the front lines—adults and children alike—if we refused to deal with the demon!"
"The front lines would've been a mercy! He told the bishop he'd kill us and hang our bodies in front of the temple!"
"Kh—! That poor bishop… he gave his life for us…!"
Even the bishop's death—the decisive trigger for the Purification Work—had been the product of the count's threats. If the bishop informed headquarters or called for help, the count would slaughter the people of the fief right in front of him. In the end, the bishop handed over the offerings meant for headquarters to the count, and later traded his own life in a bargain with the demon. Simply having emotions stolen would have produced new victims soon enough; he had meant to buy time with his own life. Thanks to that, no further victims appeared for several months.
My judgment call was wrong.
Demons do not coerce. Humans, however, are another matter entirely. I had overlooked that. My assumption that the people of the fief had willingly bargained with the demon for Count Richmond's sake had been completely off the mark.
If only Phai-ton hadn't cut the Saintess off back then…
This is exactly why you listen to people until they're finished. Damn it—why did he have to interrupt at that precise moment?
"Count Richmond committed countless other evils besides, but the gravest among them is this: he tampered with these weights and collected more grain in taxes than the prescribed amount."
Undeterred by anything around her, Rhea pressed steadily on with her report and pointed to the scale.
"I will demonstrate the evidence here and now, before you all."
Several members of the Special Tax Collection Unit grunted as they heaved a grain sack onto the scale. When the weight that appeared to have been the count's was set on the opposite side, the scale balanced. But only for a moment. The instant they removed that weight and set down one stamped with the imperial crest, the scale tipped hard toward the grain.
"Th-this son of a—!"
"I knew it! We always measured it out exactly, and he still claimed it was short and took more!"
Naturally, the people of the fief erupted. Voices rose; they leapt and shouted as if ready to burn the lord's castle to the ground on the spot.
That was when Elena shot to her feet, as if she had been waiting for exactly this, and cried out toward them in a voice of absolute, solemn severity.
"I, Elena Astoria, will not let this matter pass. If necessary, I will empty my own personal fortune to return every last coin of tax collected by fraudulent means! Remember this well! The Empire is always watching over you!"
The people's rage flipped to joy in an instant. Everyone gathered there clapped without pause and dissolved into cheers.
Everyone except me.
Oh look, Solomon himself has graced us with his presence. Solomon has arrived.
What are you, Judge Bao? And what was that—"empty my personal fortune"? You're going to use the budget and you know it. Spare me the act.
My headache had already been bad enough to drive me insane; now my stomach was twisting too. But it wasn't over. Elena went one better and, for the finishing flourish, went straight for my blood pressure.
"And finally, as interim lord, I extend my deepest gratitude to Special Tax Collector Rohan Blackwood, who uncovered Count Richmond's crimes!"
"Waaaaah!! Long live the righteous tax collector Rohan Blackwood! Long live His Imperial Majesty!"
"Rohan! Rohan! Rohan!"
"Let's raise statues of His Imperial Majesty and Lord Rohan Blackwood right here!!"
Elena and Rhea gazed at me with warm, satisfied smiles. The people of the fief roared my name without pause. My head swam. I could not stand another second of this madhouse. I fled the scene at once.
Righteous tax collector, my ass…
Count Richmond and his daughter, burned black until nothing remained but bone.
Perhaps because the demon had thrashed so violently in its final struggle, the young lady's bones were twisted into grotesque shapes. The count's bones lay draped over her pelvis, as if he had died still clutching her close.
May you both find peace.
I snapped my fingers, kindled a flame, and burned what remained of their bones, closing my eyes as I did.
Count Richmond—a demon worse than any demon. The atrocities he had inflicted on the people of his fief and on the clergy were unforgivable horrors. And yet… if it meant saving a dying child, what wouldn't a parent do? Who could dare claim to measure that kind of heart?
I was not trying to justify his sins. I simply could not help the pity that rose in me.
—Still a foul, troublesome bastard.
While I offered a silent prayer for the dead, Greed—uncharacteristically—spoke first.
"Someone you knew?"
—It would be stranger if I didn't.
"Fair enough. But 'still'? Wasn't Envy burned to ash and destroyed?"
—Hardly. So long as the emotion called envy exists upon this earth, that one will never be destroyed. The same goes for the other demons.
"That's going to be a headache."
—No need to worry. It will take at least another hundred years before that one can appear in the world again. By then, of course, you—being human—will be dead.
Greed continued in a tone that suggested none of it particularly mattered.
—In the place where thoughts and grudges gather. When the emotion called envy accumulates there, piles upon itself, and takes form once more—that is when the bastard will return.
"Your own kind just died, and you don't feel a thing?"
—Why should I?
Greed asked it with genuine, pure curiosity. I could only snort and shake my head. Well—demons were all but immortal. A hundred years would be little more than a blink to them. Even if they possessed some concept of kinship, they would meet again soon enough. Why bother fretting? Not that they were capable of feeling worry in the first place.
"Ahem. So this is where you were."
I had only been lost in thought for a moment when the Saintess entered the room with an awkward little cough.
"I've been looking for you for some time."
"I assumed you had already left. You're still here?"
"Ah. Yes. One thing led to another, and…"
Something dark sat on her face. I studied her for a beat, then let out a sigh. She was almost certainly blaming herself because the Purification Work had cost the people of the fief their homes. But that was purely hindsight talking. Honestly, the fact that their emotions had returned at all had been nothing short of luck.
"Well. I heard there were no deaths."
"Ah. That is—ordinarily, when purifying sinners steeped in sin, we gather them separately and later…"
"……"
"F-fortunately, everyone's emotions returned just before the purification, so…"
"Ahem! How very fortunate."
You absolute lunatics. What kind of "purification" is that? Even Satan would take one look and run screaming.
Humans really are worse than demons, aren't they?
Cold sweat traced a chill down my spine, but I forced myself to look unbothered. At this point, the temple lot and Count Richmond were cut from the same cloth. No—the temple lot were worse. At least Count Richmond had a tragic story. Those people… ugh. Better not even start.
"S-still, headquarters sent word that they'll provide as much support as possible for the reconstruction. That was one weight off my mind, at least…"
"Has some other problem come up?"
"No. Well. Not exactly. It's just that my heart feels heavy."
With an expressionless face, I clapped my hands and stirred up a wind. I watched the ash scatter on the breeze, drift out the window, and dissolve into the air—then asked the Saintess again.
"What I wonder is this: if people's emotions had never returned, and the Purification Work had proceeded as usual—would your heart have been at ease then?"
The Saintess could give no answer at all.
"Well. There's no point dredging up what's already done. I'll take my leave first, then. It was an honor to meet you. If fortune allows, perhaps we'll meet again."
I left the Saintess behind and walked on.
Working with you was filthy. Let's never meet again.
Ugh. I've got enough problems of my own—who's worrying about whom here? Ah, forget the resignation letter. Maybe I should just start no-showing. At this rate I'm going to go bald from stress.