Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Judgment, and Purification (2)
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No matter how medieval the era, it had always been forbidden for some petty 'noble' to arbitrarily kill people unless they were the ruler or an agent delegated with that authority.
Why? Because a society that allowed people to kill others 'arbitrarily' would become impossible to control.
If such permission were granted, nobles would use 'deprivation of life' as a means to exploit commoners beyond imagination.
There are records of how, when the Belgians ruled the Congo, that mad emperor Leopold pondered ways to legally exploit the Congolese people.
As a result, the kind-hearted little Leopold imposed absurd quotas and, when they weren't met, cut off arms, legs, or heads to instill terror and carry out his exploitation.
Thanks to that, the Congo paid him an enormous amount of tribute in goods.
Legalizing the deprivation of life like this makes such exploitation possible at any time.
Therefore, in most cases, even nobles could only deprive serfs or citizens of life by formally accusing them in court.
Thus, for me, the heir, to kill the bailiff without reporting to the Kroitel Baron, holding a trial, or getting approval was an act that completely ignored this unspoken order of governance.
At first, I had planned to report to the Kroitel Baron and dispatch an 'inspector' to investigate the incident.
After the inspector's investigation, that bailiff would surely have lost his head.
But this territory only had a few years left, and that corrupt official had even tried to throw a serf girl owned by the lord himself, Kroitel Baron, to me as a plaything.
Moreover, he had deliberately worked Ella's younger brother to death in a brutal manner...
I could kill that bastard on the grounds that he had sullied a noble's honor by giving me a serf owned by the baron as a toy.
At the same time, showing such decisive action would make it impossible for the baron to send me to the academy anymore.
Purging corruption is an enormous achievement, after all.
Ah, but if the baron suspects my intentions for ignoring procedure, I could face political purge.
Based on the baron's memories remaining in this body, he wouldn't purge me over something like this, so it should be fine.
For now, I gathered the serfs from the surrounding villages in front of the bailiff's house.
And I said just one thing to them.
No, the memories and emotions of this body's original owner began to cry out.
His regrets, obsessions, resentments, and incompetence.
Was it my imagination, or did I feel gratitude from him for freeing him from those shackles?
I pushed those emotions aside and spoke solemnly.
"I, Siel von Kroitel, as the rightful heir to this territory, learned during my inspection that the bailiff of this village had been illicitly seizing the serfs' property from a serf named Zachry. Until just moments ago, I was at the bailiff's house confirming whether this was true."
As I finished speaking, the serfs began to murmur.
I raised my hand to quiet them and continued.
"As a result, I discovered that he had siphoned off the grain from your blood and sweat, as well as your precious livestock."
As those words ended, a warm, cheerful atmosphere began to spread among the serfs, who had been tense just moments before.
The anxious expressions wondering what the lord's son would do had already turned into ones of anticipation.
I paused briefly to build expectation for my next words and then spoke.
"Though I am a noble with blue blood flowing through my veins, my nobility comes from the contract to protect you. That contract must be upheld, so the bailiff who broke this promise will be purged. And he will return the grain and livestock you were unjustly robbed of."
Silence fell over the serfs as my words ended.
One of them raised a hand.
"Y-Young Master."
"Yes, speak."
The man who had raised his hand hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Will you really return everything?"
"Without leaving a single one out, all of it. That's what Siel von Kroitel must do."
After those words, a brief silence flowed, then the serfs erupted in joyous cheers.
"Hooray!!"
"I don't know how much grain and livestock we'll get back, but this is something!!"
"Long live Baron Excellency Kroitel! Long live Young Master!"
The sight of the peasants rejoicing filled me with pride.
When I first came to this village, it had been out of necessity to find a way not to go to the academy.
But in that process, I witnessed the horrific exploitation of serfs by the corrupt bailiff, and now I was raising the blade of purging corruption that I could wield.
And the sight of these serfs rejoicing so purely felt truly beautiful.
The fact that all this was the result of my own thinking and actions brought pure joy and a swelling pride in my chest.
Ella watched me with sparkling eyes.
Did I already seem like an object of admiration to this girl, a noble acting for people exploited like herself?
Was it megalomania to think I might look like a prince from a fairy tale?
Then I looked at the serfs before me and shouted loudly.
"Follow me! We'll go reclaim the property that was taken from you!"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ As soon as we arrived at the bailiff's house, the serfs smashed down the front gate in an instant.
Next, they dragged the bailiff and his family out into the courtyard.
The bailiff, who had been swaggering in luxury from his ill-gotten gains just moments ago, now trembled before me like a wet duckling.
His wife and daughter beside him gazed at me and the bailiff, their eyes signaling 'Please spare us, we'll do anything.'
I ignored that completely and said,
"Ella, go with Baldt and search places where the bailiff might have hidden things. Half the serfs stay here, the other half find the warehouse locations and report back."
At those words, the bailiff seemed to sense his end and just hung his head, staring at the ground.
Whether regretting his deeds or feeling wronged, he began shedding tears and apologizing before the serfs he had victimized.
It was almost comical, like a minister in a historical drama dragged before the king, crying 'Your Highness, spare me!!'
Moments later, Ella, Baldt, and the serfs sent to find the warehouses returned.
Ella and Baldt brought armfuls of documents the bailiff had hidden.
The documents contained unimaginable atrocities.
Selling widows and orphans who couldn't pay nonexistent death taxes to mercenary bands as playthings, openly bribing certain nobles.
Deliberately indebting some to make them slaves in his household, then having them farm the lord's direct lands and skimming 30% of the harvest.
And under the pretext of the lord's orders, collecting one chicken per serf annually...
Simply lending farm tools, using watermills, and embezzling grain paled in comparison to these crimes.
I had half a mind to order Baldt to kill him with a sword, but no. This trash needed to die as painfully as possible.
After such deeds, he deserved maximum suffering to even begin atoning.
But that's that, and my immediate task was returning the property to the serfs first.
"Everyone, pay attention."
All eyes turned to me, faces full of expectation.
"We confirmed that 90% of Bailiff Mars's wealth was illicitly exploited from you all. This property is rightfully yours, so it will all be returned to you. Moreover, using my father the lord's authority for exploitation is a grave sin. Therefore, Bailiff Mars..."
I hesitated for a moment.
No matter how deserving of death, I had never killed anyone with my own hands while living in Korea.
Saying 'kill that guy' brought not just a slight, but a great hesitation.
Still, I must live here from now on, and this order was a necessary step in that life.
Thus, I spoke in as stern a voice as possible.
"Will be executed here by stoning. His wife Beth and daughter Bella will undergo thorough investigation in the baronial court, their crimes revealed, and punished according to Baron Excellency's command. Does anyone object?"
No serf replied.
Instead, they quietly picked up stones at their feet, signaling no objections.
"Tie Bailiff Mars to that pillar and stone him to death."
The serfs swiftly grabbed Mars's legs, dragged him, and bound him to the pillar.
A silence fell after he was tied, no one daring to throw first.
They too felt aversion to stoning someone to death.
Then I, to start them off and bear the responsibility of living in this world, would throw the first stone.
As I moved to throw, a stone flew from behind me.
It didn't hit hard, but flew toward the bailiff's forehead, struck, and fell.
Looking back, tearful Ella stood there.
"Zack!! Zack died because of you! You bastard!"
This time, someone else threw a stone.
Turning, it was a grandfather who looked about 60.
"Because of you, you Bailiff Mars!! My son died because of you!! You took all the wheat my son worked so hard for, and he starved to death!"
Then, like a dam bursting, stones flew toward the bailiff.
Each time one hit, he cried 'Spare me. I'm sorry. Young Master,' but no one cared.
The stones just flew, struck him, desiring he pay for his wrongs with death.
After 30 minutes of stoning, the bailiff no longer reacted to incoming stones.
Holding a finger under his nose to check, he was still breathing faintly.
I fetched cold water and splashed his face to wake him.
He trembled before me, desperate to live, but of course, I couldn't spare him.
I woke him just to suffer until death.
As I signaled to resume stoning, Baldt approached and said,
"Young Master, he'll die soon. But punishing the last corrupt official disturbing Baron Excellency's territory must be done by a 'noble.' So, Young Master."
Baldt handed me his sword.
I drew it, hesitated briefly, then steeled myself.
To survive here, it was unavoidable. Think of him as a violent sex criminal and human trafficker, scum deserving death...
I raised the sword, feeling it weigh a thousand tons.
And with one strike to the bailiff's neck, I severed it from his shoulders.
Vast blood spurted from the severed neck, soaking my face and clothes.
The wicked man's blood, alive moments ago, was far hotter than expected.
Boiling hot, perhaps that heat was his will to live?
Only he could answer, but he was already dead.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The next day, I declared to the serfs that I would return their extorted property and immediately returned to the baron's mansion.
On the way back, all sorts of thoughts crossed my mind.
Fear of getting scolded by the baron, uncertainty about adapting to this world, modern ethics occasionally tripping me up—those moments were subtly tormenting.
Because another me seemed to keep harassing: 'What right do you have to take a life?' 'Then is it legal for anyone to take yours?'
Anyway, I completed the short but interminably long schedule and returned to the mansion.
Upon return, the baron's steward handed me a letter.
It contained just one line.
[Report to the study tomorrow early afternoon]
A plain sentence, yet it seemed laden with profound meaning.