Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Support Funds
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They weren't ignorant of magic like Berik. These were people who dealt with the Magic Department in the capital while handling state affairs. There was no way they wouldn't know what those shining eyes meant.
Molin and his group stared at Ian with their mouths slightly agape, and the silence was broken by Romandro's hiccup.
"Hic, s-so, you're saying that you..."
"People call someone like me a Mana User."
"No, when exactly did this..."
"I don't know. It's a power that's been with me so naturally for a very long time."
It was a disaster. Molin pressed his forehead with a hand as dry as a tree branch. The sight he'd witnessed before was definitely not an illusion. Mac and Drgor were so shocked they covered their mouths.
"Right now, I can only feel the flow of mana and release it, but someday, I want to be of use to the Bariel Empire."
"O-of course! Of course. My goodness! To think something like this would happen in my lifetime. Seeing a Mana User outside the Magic Department! Haha!"
And that Mana User was the bastard son of an executed count!
Romandro instinctively realized that Ian was at the center of everything. The denunciation, the execution, and even his actions after entering the territory. He'd seemed extraordinary for his young age, and now it all made sense.
"May I shake your hand?"
"Yes? Haha. It would be an honor."
It was a silly superstition. The belief that meeting a Mana User before they officially became a mage would bring good luck. Romandro and Ian shook hands again, and with each handshake, Molin's expression soured further.
'What do I do now?'
Whether Ian's mother was a commoner or whatever, it no longer mattered. Judging by Kakantir's demeanor, he clearly already knew.
'From the way he's showing it off so blatantly in front of Romandro...'
It was obvious he had no intention of returning to the Great Desert. He seemed intent on staying in Bariel, and now that they knew he was a Mana User, all the initiative lay with Ian.
Look at Romandro's flushed, beaming face.
"We can discuss the details over dinner. You've come a long way, after all. Resting your bodies would be best."
"Ah. Is that all right?"
"I'll prepare rooms for your subordinates."
"Thank you. Riding in a carriage for half a month isn't easy."
Having first confirmed the overall situation, Romandro rose with his weary body. They could discuss future plans and the bastard's disposition slowly.
What was there even to discuss? He'd likely just receive a report on the reconstruction progress.
"You, stay here a moment. I need to speak with you."
As they were about to leave, Molin muttered quietly. Ian signaled to Kakantir with his eyes and sat back down.
"Lord Romandro. I'll see you at dinner."
"Y-yeah. Sure..."
"This way..."
Creak.
The reception room was left with only Molin's group. Silence hung in the air. Molin hoped Ian would explain himself and show some goodwill right then and there, but there was no sign of it. Finally, unable to bear it, Mac interjected.
"You. What in the world are you doing?"
"Doing what?"
"Doing what? I'm asking why you're making things so complicated."
"What's so complicated? I gave Lord Molin the denunciation letter, and in return, he granted me my freedom, didn't he? There were no agreements about anything after that."
Clink.
Molin slammed down his teacup roughly and retorted.
"Didn't I ask you back then? Whether you knew anything about mana usage. You said you knew nothing at all. It seems like you're after the Bratz territory, but if you'd been honest then, things wouldn't have gotten so twisted."
If they'd known Ian was a Mana User, they would naturally have tried to install him as a puppet lord in Erika's place. He was a bastard, but he'd earned merit with the denunciation letter, and above all, though his blood was lowly, his talent was rare—they could have found a way somehow.
"Do I have an obligation to be honest with you?"
Ian, who had been listening quietly, countered. It might seem impertinent, but it was purely a question born of curiosity.
"My judgment back then was the best choice at the time. Even if Lord Molin says something now, it has nothing to do with me."
Besides, weren't these people followers of Second Prince Gail? They were scheming to swallow up the borderlands as a foothold for rebellion, and Ian—who had led Bariel as its legitimate bloodline—had no intention of going along with that.
They probably couldn't understand. What it truly meant to plot treason. But he didn't expect them to.
"What do you want?"
"I'd like to ask you the same. What do you want?"
The conversation began to veer off course little by little. It was a dialogue between people each thinking they held the initiative, skipping straight to the point.
"...I—no, we intend to make Captain Erika the lord. If you truly can't give up the lordship, we can find a compromise—"
"Appointing a lord is the emperor's prerogative. How can you speak so irreverently? And it would be better to find someone else anyway. Captain Erika has a rather negative reputation in the territory."
Knock knock.
"Lord Ian. A letter has arrived from Merelrof."
"Got it. I'll be right there."
Ian concluded that further conversation with Molin was unproductive. At the servant's call from outside, he stood without hesitation.
"You three must be tired as well. Please rest. As guests from the palace, I'll ensure everything is prepared properly."
Creak, slam!
"Ha!"
Molin's group let out disbelieving laughs as they stared at the door he'd exited through. But none of them could offer any way to turn the situation around. Ian's offense and defense were solidly in place.
* * *
-To Prince Marib. This is Romandro.
I've just arrived and inspected the territory. The condition is better than expected. There are still common houses needing reconstruction, but hardly anyone sleeps in the streets, and the people smile often.
However, something astonishing. Instead of Captain Erika, the territory is being held by Ian, the bastard of Dergha, alongside the Cheonryeo Tribe. I was taken aback, but he seems friendly toward the palace and genuinely committed to reconstruction. Details are attached in the report.
There should be no issues with overall progress. Additionally, the bastard Ian is a Mana User. Molin says he should be reduced to slavery by law, but what nonsense is that? For now, I
Knock knock.
Romandro paused there. As the door opened and a servant appeared, the smell of food wafted in.
"Dinner is ready."
"Right. I'll head down."
Romandro went down to the dining room on the floor below. Neat dishes on silver trays. He sat and examined them with his eyes first—mostly preserved meats that could be stored long-term, with almost no fresh vegetables or fruits.
'Looks like food supplies haven't normalized yet.'
It was the scorching summer. A time when the territory's labor was needed, but many had died, and the survivors stared vacantly at their ruined fields. And not just that—the central army and investigation team had depleted the stored grain quickly while stationed here.
"Does everyone in the mansion eat like this?"
"Ah... Is there anything you'd like? The same food was served to Lord Advisor Romandro's subordinates."
"No, I was just curious. Where's Ian?"
"He said to eat first. There's a letter from the neighboring territory."
From their reactions, it seemed everyone ate like this. Romandro picked up his fork to sate his hunger first. If the situation were dire, they might have eaten on the floor. That was normal in places touched by the winds of war. But a hot dinner at the table like this!
'I'm lucky. Mm. Good!'
As he nearly finished eating, Ian entered the room.
"Lord Romandro. Is the food to your taste?"
"Oh. Come join me. What about Lord Molin?"
"He's eating in his room as well."
Romandro pretended not to notice the thick stack of documents in Ian's hand and greeted him. Ian smiled brightly and sat nearby. The servants quickly cleared the empty dishes.
"This should help with your future plans."
"Let me see. Mm. Maps and status reports."
"I've compiled detailed lists of reconstruction progress and regional information."
The advisor glanced over the map and asked again. Hadn't the servant mentioned a letter from the neighboring territory?
"Do you have dealings with your neighbors here?"
"During the height of the battle, we kept the outer gates tightly shut to avoid entanglement. But now we're exchanging letters little by little."
"More than anything, it would be good to secure crops that can be harvested before winter. What's the status of food supplies?"
"The central support troops' stay caused heavy consumption. We're emptying the mansion's warehouses, but they'll be completely bare soon."
Ian said that and handed over another document.
"So, I suggest reducing the central tax this winter to about thirty percent of a normal harvest."
"As I said, my goal is to match a normal harvest."
Romandro was a bit surprised. He was handling mansion affairs now, but Romandro hadn't expected him to discuss taxes with such insight. At just sixteen, it wasn't something a border bastard should know.
"Based on the asset lists declared by the territory folk, it's half of last year's. Plus, aside from wages for the few mansion servants, we need compensation for the Cheonryeo Tribe. Calculations show thirty percent is appropriate."
Ian explained as he turned to the next page. It was a decision backed by clear evidence. Dozens of entries and formulas confirmed it.
"But we can't adjust the target."
"That's a shame. If the center waived taxes just for this year, we could go up to fifty percent..."
"Did you calculate all this yourself?"
"Yes."
"Aren't you the bastard son of a commoner?"
"Before crossing the Great Desert, I had a dedicated tutor suited to my hostage status."
Still, this was...
He could be thrown into practical work right away without issue. Romandro couldn't hold back his admiration as he meticulously reviewed the documents. It was then, as he sipped the wine poured by the servant.
"...No helping it. There's a fallback plan. I brought the letter from Merelrof. Take a look."
"Hm?"
Romandro couldn't help but chuckle upon receiving the letter. It was a way to procure food from the neighboring territory.
Romandro's mouth nearly split into a grin at Ian's swift and refreshing handling. If things went well, he might even see Bariel's first snow of the year from the capital.
"I asked Count Merelrof to sell us food, and he sent a list of what's possible and the amounts. Essentials like wheat and corn are plentiful there, but prices will be higher than usual due to their situation..."
Romandro nodded unconsciously as he listened to Ian's explanation.
"...In any case, we need to trade with them. The mansion funds are depleted, so we can probably buy enough for the territory to hold out a week."
"Ahh. Don't worry about that."
He was an advisor sent from the center to stabilize public sentiment. He couldn't adjust taxes for fairness, but he had brought support funds for the advisor's use. He tapped the table.
"Up to two months' worth should be possible. That should normalize things until winter, right?"
"If I may ask the amount..."
At Ian's question, Romandro just sipped his wine. A silent refusal to disclose. It was the one power Romandro firmly held, so Ian could understand.
"Then I'll convey our intent to Merelrof."
"Yes, do that."
"I'll wrap things up shortly..."
Ian signaled the servants with his eyes and left the dining room. Turning the corner in the hallway, Kakantir, Ner Saran, his subordinates, and Berik were waiting.
Ian opened his mouth.
"A problem has arisen."