How to Fleece Them Properly
After successfully rounding up the worshippers according to plan, I released the mages on Father's orders.
"Now that the worshippers have been caught, we can hardly keep holding them indefinitely."
"Mm."
Those bastards could stand to suffer a little longer.
The thought crossed my mind, but I decided to obediently follow Father's word.
"You may come out. The worshippers have been apprehended, so you are free now. I apologize for the unintended hardship."
The mages looked more than a little surprised.
And why? Because they had completely misunderstood me.
"So that wasn't just an excuse…?"
"There really were worshippers?"
I felt a bit wronged. I had genuinely only wanted to wipe out the worshippers.
Well. Nothing to be done about it.
This must be the fate of a prophet.
Fat chance.
Anyway, I released the mages.
"What shall we do with the worshippers?"
"Move them to the underground dungeon. Sir Valt, with me."
"Yes, my lord Baron."
The three of us took the subdued worshippers down to the dungeon.
Now came the time for interrogation.
"Khtun, you may go."
"Pardon?"
"This is filthy work. The day will come when you must do such things yourself, but that day need not be today."
"Mm…"
As I hesitated, the Ancestor spoke.
Listen to him. What you'll witness here is a different kind of horror from anything you saw on the battlefield.
Yes, sir.
I had learned that much from the war in this life. "Reality" was qualitatively different from anything imagined, invented, or absorbed secondhand. It lacked dramatic flair, but the chill of it settled right against the skin.
"Then… I shall take my leave."
"Good. Ah — and Khtun."
"Yes?"
I tilted my head, and Father continued.
"I'll leave the matter of the mages to you. The Heart Cores are spoils you brought back yourself, so it's only right that you handle them."
"Mm. Yes."
"And the proceeds as well. Do with them as you see fit."
"…!"
What was he saying?
That the profits from selling the Heart Cores would be entirely mine.
If I play this right… I could walk away with a proper haul.
…? Were you short on money?
No.
Honestly speaking, living on the estate, I never wanted for coin. My spending habits weren't extravagant, and Father always pressed generous pocket money into my hands.
But was receiving an allowance the same as this?
This was money that was truly mine — money I could spend on anything without a second thought!
So then. Let's see.
Ancestor.
Speak.
How do I fleece them so thoroughly that word of it spreads?
…? Isn't that the sort of thing you don't want word of?
Is that so?
I didn't know. For now, I'd focus on the fleecing itself.
If I was going to fleece them, I might as well do it properly, right?
And so the day faded away in the midst of those happy deliberations.
Really, though — how do I fleece them?
In the end, the all-night fretting hadn't meant much.
Why?
Information. I don't have enough information…
To strike a good deal when you already know what the other party wants, you also need to know what they have — and that was precisely the information I lacked.
So I summoned the mages to the castle and gave them a brief account of the situation.
"Last night, we captured a worshipper who had been hiding among the detained mages. The Baron is occupied with that matter, so I have been entrusted with everything related to the Heart Cores."
"Hmm. I see."
"Worshippers, is it… Well, that can't be helped."
But then—
These bastards are acting like hospitality is their due, aren't they?
Think about it. Mages are a privileged class, and some among them will be nobles. Sky-high pride is only natural. Especially…
Especially?
…There's no small tendency to look down on Falaon as a backwater estate of no consequence.
Is that so.
Frogs in a well, the lot of them.
Of course, not all of them were like that.
A prime example being…
"Ah — Sir Zelos, was it?"
"Zelos McMillan."
"Shall we begin your interview first?"
I had assumed every last mage had raised hell in front of the castle — but there had been an exception.
This very Zelos McMillan!
As I understood it, upon being told yesterday to "wait in the village," he had quietly returned there and waited. A true mage of this age, more courteous even than the moderates.
And so, by way of repayment, I had decided to grant him priority.
However—
"Hmm… Last might suit me better. The conversation will run long."
"Mm. If that is your wish."
Setting the gentlemanly Sir Zelos aside for later, I proceeded through the interviews one by one, gathering information.
In truth, they hardly deserved to be called interviews.
"Ah, I believe I heard your name…"
"Majenka. No family name."
"Yes, Sir Majenka. Please write your name, affiliation, the quantity you require, and your hoped-for price here, and also…"
A simple personal survey, purchase volume, and asking price. That was all.
But why make them write their specialty?
Ah, that? The estate mage post is vacant, you know.
Call it scouting candidates while I was at it. Or preliminary research for fleecing their labor.
Having them fill out all of that, I found one common thread among the mages.
Which was?
Most of them listed artifact crafting as their specialty.
I see.
In a way, it was only natural. Rechargeable Heart Cores would be useful to mages of other schools as well — but they were far more valuable for artifact crafting.
A kind of rechargeable battery, then.
Once I roughly tallied the numbers, the volume the mages needed was larger than expected.
About five thousand small Heart Cores and a hundred medium ones, give or take.
A considerable amount for a dozen-odd mages to absorb…
But as it turned out, not all of them were private individuals. Some had come as representatives of workshops.
Those ones demanded enormous quantities — and made one additional proposal.
—If you grant us an exclusive contract, we will pay double the market rate. And if you enter a regular supply agreement, we will pay one and a half times the rate for that volume.
It was a tempting offer in its own right.
And they were the moderate faction, at that.
The ones who had stood quietly watching while the other mages berated the guards.
But I could not forget: the moderates, too, had been the sort content to blend into the loud crowd and skim what advantage they could.
Among all the mages who had come to our estate, the only one with clean hands was Sir Zelos.
Ah — and what of Sir Zelos?
Time to interview him now.
For Sir Zelos in particular, I intended to accommodate his conditions as far as possible.
And so—
"John, would you bring Sir Zelos in?"
"Yes, Young Master."
My personal attendant John escorted Sir Zelos in.
"The interviews finished sooner than I expected."
"Ah, yes. I needed to conduct a preliminary survey before any transactions."
"A preliminary survey… Young Master Khtun is quite thorough."
"Thank you for the compliment. Please, speak freely."
"I shan't refuse."
What is this? He didn't even push back once?
I felt a faint prickle of unease, but let it pass. He was clearly several times my age, after all.
In any case—
"Here. If you would fill this out."
"Hmm."
Sir Zelos took the questionnaire I held out, then fell silent for a moment.
And then — for reasons I couldn't guess — he handed it straight back to me.
"No need for that. Instead, I thought I might tell you something worth your interest."
"Something worth my interest?"
"Indeed."
Mm. What was this situation now?
Had the man of character I took Sir Zelos for turned out to be a swindler?
A wave of disappointment crashed over me!
Still, I carefully kept it from my face and asked,
"May I hear it first?"
"Coming down to the south as I have, I've come to feel the demon crisis will not end as things stand. The Apostle Council lot seem to have set their minds to something serious."
"The Apostle Council?"
"Mm. Don't know them? Something like a coalition of the worshippers. Sounds like a religious order by the name, but it isn't a religion."
"Ah. I see."
I'd file that away for later. I should ask Cardinal Michael or Brother James about it.
Brother James might or might not know — but I doubted a Cardinal would be ignorant of something a mage was aware of.
"Anyway — and so?"
"You did your preliminary survey, so you know most of them were artifact crafters, yes? Simply taking money and handing over Heart Cores is the worst approach. The best is to exchange them for anti-demon tools."
"Anti-demon tools?"
"Precisely."
Oh. Now that was a rather interesting proposition.
Had he read the shift in my expression?
"You've taken an interest, I see."
"Yes."
"Shall I go into detail, then? For reference — what follows is not free."
Mm.
I considered for a moment, then answered.
"Before I listen, there's one thing I'd like to clarify."
"Speak."
"What is it that you want, Sir Zelos?"
I had a feeling.
This man, Zelos—
He didn't come simply for Heart Cores.
He had some other purpose.
But Sir Zelos answered my question with a question of his own.
"Is the answer so important?"
"Of course it is?"
"What you need is reasoning that can persuade you. However truthfully I speak, if I fail to convince you, you will not accept my proposal."
"That's fair enough. So you refuse to answer?"
"No. I simply need a moment to think. Stating my purpose is easy enough — but explaining the circumstances in a way that will satisfy you is another matter entirely. I'm not gifted with words, you see. Bear with me."
"You seem plenty gifted with words already."
"Hmm. That blunt manner of yours is the spitting image of the previous Baron. Not a bit like your father."
"…?"
The previous Baron?
"Do you know my grandfather, by any chance?"
"I do. And since the subject has come up, let us begin there. The previous Baron and I exchanged favors. That is precisely why I sought out Falaon. The Heart Cores matter, yes — but I also know Falaon is about to soar very high indeed."
"How…"
"The mana stone mine. You've begun developing it, have you not?"
"Mm."
How did he know that?
Some of the neighboring nobles had caught a whiff of something, but none of them should have known it was specifically a mana stone mine.
Sir Zelos's next words resolved my doubt at once.
"I was the one who found that mana stone vein."
"Pardon?"
"Surely you don't believe that the Falaon of those days — short of both people and coin — discovered a buried mana stone vein entirely on its own? The estate had been improving little by little since the previous Baron's time, but when I was here, it was desperately poor. Ask your father if you like. Ask him whether he knows a mage named Zelos. Though whether he remembers is another matter."
"Uh…"
Why the personal dig?
No — wait.
This man had found the mana stone mine?
"One moment."
I didn't delay. I called for John.
"John, ask Father whether he knows the mage who discovered the mana stone vein long ago."
"Shall I put it just like that?"
"Yes."
John left, and we waited.
"I could have gone and spoken to him myself."
"Ah. So you could."
I'd been so flustered the thought hadn't even occurred to me.
How long did we wait?
John returned.
Only… he came with Father.
"Khtun — has Sir Zelos perhaps arrived… Oh! Sir Zelos!"
"It's been a long time, Sahad. Ah — or should I call you Baron now?"
What? It was real?