Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Going to Meet My Liege, Count Nant (1)
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After receiving the summons from my father, Baron Kroitel, I left Baldt behind in the territory and set off for the Kroitel Barony in a carriage with Ella.
The distance from Windheim, where I was staying, to the Kroitel Barony takes about two days by carriage, so honestly, it wasn't what you'd call close.
Upon arrival, I headed straight to the manor to meet the baron.
The baron was sitting in his study—which contained only a desk and chairs for himself and me—wearing the sternest expression he could muster.
I greeted him with the utmost respect due a noble.
"Lord of Windheim, Siel von Kroitel, has come in response to Baron Excellency Kroitel's summons."
The baron slightly raised his right hand in acknowledgment, then replied with a smile.
"You must be tired from the journey, Siel."
"Thank you."
"So, how's it feel to govern a territory for the first time?"
"I'm still short on experience, so there are plenty of difficulties. But the serfs are following my lead well, which is a relief, since I'm doing my best."
The baron nodded in satisfaction at my words.
"I see. As expected of my son—no, better than me, even. Honestly, when I sent you there, I figured at least a hundred out of the territory's two thousand serfs wouldn't make it through the winter. They wouldn't have had enough food to last till summer, thanks to the bailiff's exploitation."
He was right.
Even after I returned the property the bailiff had seized from the serfs, he'd taken so much—and they'd already used up so much—that they didn't have provisions to last until summer.
In cases like this, even if the lord lifts foraging restrictions in his hunting grounds or cuts taxes, people still starve to death.
That's why that guy Malthus talked about the "Malthus Trap," claiming that as human numbers grow, food shortages will doom humanity.
"And yet, when I heard reports that not only had no one starved in your village, but the serfs were actually living better than those in other territories, I couldn't believe my eyes. Even I—or any lord in the empire—couldn't have achieved what you did in that situation."
For a moment, I considered modestly deflecting the praise.
But my results were so overwhelming that pretending otherwise would just seem ridiculous.
Besides, in this feudal society, a bit of bold swagger—without crossing the line—was seen as a virtue.
Best to just accept it graciously.
"I'm honored."
That must have been the right answer, because the baron smiled warmly and spoke in a pleased tone.
"Good. Not arrogant, not servile—just confidently poised. That's the son of Paul von Kroitel! I'd been worried you seemed a bit timid before, but seeing you act with such assurance now is truly gratifying!"
"Thank you."
A brief silence followed, then the baron asked in a serious voice.
"So, my son. Let me be direct: Can this farming method be rolled out across the entire barony?"
"Of course. But simply explaining it in writing or words won't be enough for the serfs to understand. You'll need to send a few serfs and village heads from Windheim who've already learned the Four-Field Rotation to teach them hands-on. Otherwise, you risk a massive crop failure."
"I see. Is that all?"
"No. You'll also need to pledge your noble honor that if serfs fail with this method, you'll reduce or waive their taxes."
Hearing that, the baron started looking at me strangely.
But it made sense— for a noble, honor was sometimes more important than life itself.
They'd even sell their own homes to fulfill a promise made under contract, that sacred oath.
Asking him to stake his honor was like saying, in modern terms, "Put up your guarantee."
Still, to overcome the coming crisis and save the starving serfs across the barony, this farming method had to be implemented barony-wide as quickly as possible.
I continued in a calm voice.
"Because for serfs, a single year's harvest isn't just about their own survival—it's their family's lives on the line. That's why they stick to what worked last year instead of risking a new method that might lead to loss. One failure means their family starves. So to get them to change, you need a firm promise of compensation."
The baron nodded and replied.
"Makes sense. When Count Excellency marches us vassals off to war against other territories, we don't go unless the rewards are guaranteed upfront. Same principle for the serfs, eh?"
"Exactly. And consider this."
The baron looked at me curiously.
"What?"
"Baron Excellency—no, Father. Imagine the lord himself stakes his honor on this new farming method, and it yields a massive success. How do you think your serfs and vassals will see you?"
The baron closed his eyes, lost in thought for a moment.
Then he smiled faintly and chuckled to himself.
Opening his eyes, he said,
"I see. I'd earn the trust and respect of my vassals and serfs alike. My honor as Paul von Kroitel would rise, and with abundant food, we'd all grow wealthier."
"Precisely. And you'd gain a reputation as the benevolent baron who staked his noble honor to care for his serfs—even your rivals wouldn't dare touch you."
The baron beamed at that.
After about an hour of pleasant conversation with him, I bowed to take my leave.
"Then, Father, I'll withdraw now."
As I turned to go, the baron added casually,
"Oh, Siel. Our liege, Count Nant Excellency, is summoning his vassals in a week. Be prepared to go."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The moment I stepped out of the study, my mind grew complicated.
Yeah, Count Nant first... He's a bit of a mixed bag, honestly.
The current lord of Baron Kroitel, Count Nant, wasn't a bad person.
On the contrary, he treated his vassals decently enough and managed his own territory competently—a solid, unremarkable fellow.
He even had a relatively clean personal life, as nobles go.
Of course, like any noble, he'd taken maids or serfs as concubines more than once, or paid to hush things up.
But if a child resulted, he'd support them in another territory—not acknowledging them as his own, but ensuring they didn't starve, even if not richly.
He never invented extra taxes to squeeze the serfs unless there was a war.
That's why his vassals respected him somewhat, and the territory's serfs didn't hate him.
If I had to compare him to someone in this world, he'd be like one of those middling kings from Korean history books—Joseon or Goryeo—who barely get mentioned.
That might not sound so bad, but rulers like him tend to fumble crises badly when they hit.
And from what I know, in just a few years, the emperor will pass away, sparking a civil war...
Lost in these thoughts, I heard Ella's voice from behind me.
"Master, Master."
"What?"
Ella hesitated before answering.
"I don't want to be apart from you, Master... Do I really have to stay here? If you go to Count Nant Excellency tomorrow, we won't see each other for weeks."
Her eyes held a hint of anxiety as she looked at me.
Having lost her parents young, suffered the bailiff's exploitation, and nearly been forced into sexual servitude at that age—then rescued by me—it was only natural she'd fear being separated.
But taking Ella, who hadn't been properly trained as a maid, to meet our "liege lord" wasn't wise.
In Windheim or the Kroitel Barony, her childish mistakes or immaturity could be overlooked with me nearby—no one would dare criticize her.
Antagonizing me posed a far greater risk to them than fussing over Ella.
But in the count's territory, with countless higher nobles around, her slip-ups could reflect badly on me—and even the baron.
Explaining all that in detail would be lost on her anyway.
Thinking of her as a child to soothe, I placed a hand on her head and stroked it gently.
"I'd be lonely without you too, Ella. But I'm going on important business with Baron Excellency Kroitel, and right now, you can't help me with it."
Ella's face fell.
"So we have to be apart for a bit."
"Master..."
"But when I come back, I'll bring you something sweet you like. They have candy in the castle ruled by Count Excellency—let's eat it together."
Ella's eyes lit up at "sweet candy," curiosity replacing her worry.
"Candy? Sweeter than honey or fruit?"
"Yeah. Probably sweeter and softer than honey or fruit."
She beamed.
"Sounds delicious! You'll get it for me, right, Master?"
"Of course. Just be good while I'm gone."
"Yes!"
After that, with Ella's help, I changed into travel clothes and headed off with the baron to Nant County.
The week-long journey—280 kilometers by carriage—nearly killed my back.
They say a man's life is in his back; I nearly wrecked mine, making me miss modern cars' suspension desperately.
After all that arduous travel—march-like yet not, journey yet not—we finally arrived to pay respects to the lord of Nant County.
"Paul von Kroitel presents himself before the rightful lord of Nant County and my liege, His Excellency Count Halt von Nant."