Chapter 122
Chapter 122
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 122
Chapter Title: Saint's Appearance (3)
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Rokan’s negotiations with the lord of Linaie proceeded immediately.
Whether it was Rokan’s persuasion that worked, or because the lord of Linaie was in a state of near surrender, he expressed his intent to sell the territory.
On top of that, when Rokan offered him the position of security captain in exchange for not exploiting the territory’s residents, the sale price dropped even below Rokan’s expectations.
For Rokan, who had been willing to pay double, this was great news.
He immediately drew up the contract and signed it.
[Linaie Territory is now under Rokan’s ownership.]
[You may now use the Territory Management window.]
[All races are paying attention to you, the first noble Visitor.]
Once the contract was finalized and the agreement was sent to the council and the emperor, a second letter arrived from the lord of Remington.
“As expected.”
“Indeed.”
The lord of Linaie—no, the former lord of Linaie, Decarn—had completely shed his noble pride in a short time.
Though they shared the same baronial rank, he decided to focus solely on supporting Rokan and protecting the Linaie Territory and its people that his family had guarded for generations.
He even used honorifics with Rokan and pondered the provocation from the lord of Remington alongside him.
“It’s too predictable.”
But unlike the worried Decarn, Rokan grinned broadly as he read the letter.
A proxy war. Or as it was also called, a knight tournament.
The lord of Remington had declared war to protect the lives and honor of his territory’s residents, claiming they had been insulted and threatened in Linaie Territory.
It was faster than expected, likely because the Linaie Territory he had his eye on had fallen into Rokan’s hands.
‘He’s gotten hasty.’
That was clearly why he had rushed into this.
If he stirred up trouble amid the chaos of the territory transfer, it might slip by unnoticed, but attempting it after things settled would draw eyes.
Moreover, the one who had acquired the territory was Rokan—the very man he had made a secret pact with. There was no reason not to hurry.
“Is this okay?”
“Of course.”
Even so, Decarn didn’t fully trust Rokan yet. The lord of Remington had proposed not a one-on-one proxy war, but a 5-vs-5.
Even if Rokan had ulterior motives, or even if he somehow won once by sheer luck, this ensured no issues.
It was a shallow ploy, easily seen through by Rokan.
“This should do it.”
After reading the terms to the end, Rokan picked up his pen and wrote a reply. He accepted the knight tournament but added one condition.
Winner stays.
They would use a team format to determine the victor, but the winner would remain and continue fighting.
The reason was simple. Besides himself, the lord, Linaie Territory had not a single knight-level fighter. And if he won them all, that was that. The opponents would charge in without realizing it was a trap.
The reply arrived soon after.
[The knight tournament between Remington Territory and Linaie Territory has been established.]
[In three days, the knight tournament will proceed under the supervision of observers.]
[The winner will acquire ownership of the loser’s territory.]
[The loser will lose ownership of their territory.]
The knight tournament was accepted! Naturally, it included the condition Rokan had proposed.
Given the vast difference in development and potential between the two territories, it was a far more disadvantageous condition for the lord of Remington—but it also showed his confidence.
If he won, he could swallow an entire territory without spilling a drop of blood.
It was a miscalculation born from not anticipating how much Rokan, a mere Visitor, could grow in such a short time.
‘It’s too late to back out now anyway.’
Once the knight tournament was established, the process was out of the two lords’ hands.
It fell under the emperor and council’s jurisdiction, so canceling midway required massive compensation or incurring the emperor’s wrath. A mere baron overturning what the emperor had approved.
In the worst case, all assets and territory could be confiscated, making cancellation practically impossible.
“Heh heh heh heh!”
Following Linaie Territory, Remington Territory next! And if he swallowed up the minor territories effectively under the lord of Remington’s control, Rokan could command a viscount-level domain.
It would also secure a major foothold for even greater growth.
‘Three days ahead.’
Plus, three days was plenty of time to get a lot done.
Unless the lord of Remington caught on and hired a master-level mercenary, there was no way Rokan could lose.
Not that he had the funds to move a master-level fighter anyway.
“Don’t worry—just focus on managing the territory.”
That was why, even as he reassured Decarn, Rokan couldn’t suppress his leaking grin.
“Territory management.”
[Territory Management mode is now open. You can manage operations, growth direction, appointments, taxes, and more.]
After sending Decarn away, Rokan immediately manipulated the Territory Management window.
He wasn’t one for the headache of micromanaging, but in his previous life, Rokan had obtained noble status too, so he knew the basics.
First, appointments.
He gave Decarn a preferential promotion as per his contributions, then carried out one more action.
“Mine development.”
This was the third mine development.
Not blind digging this time—he specified a known location. One where resources would pour out after just a few pickaxe strikes.
With the territory’s finances short, he covered the development costs from his own pocket. When guaranteed income awaited, what were a few hundred gold?
Others might call it madness, risking the territory on the line, but it was the bold move only Rokan could make.
‘He’ll suspect something, but it doesn’t matter.’
Even if the lord of Remington heard, he’d realize Rokan wasn’t playing along—but there’d be nothing he could do.
Objectively, stopping Rokan now required a level 300 master-class fighter, and masters were rare even in viscount or earl territories, let alone baronies.
That’s why the grandiose title “master” existed.
“Alright, let’s get started.”
But Rokan had no intention of getting complacent, not even a speck. Just three days, but he planned to upgrade his specs in that time and crush them thoroughly.
So they couldn’t complain, couldn’t resist or rebel.
That way, even after the knight tournament, he could swallow Remington Territory without a peep.
Instead, for the sake of victory and beyond, he began grinding.
“Third Hand.”
As Rokan focused, a mana-formed hand emerged from his chest.
Unlike Rokan’s own rough, burly hand, this one was delicate and feminine, caressing the small parts laid out before him.
[You have crafted a Crude Clock.]
[You have crafted a Crude Bomb.]
[You have crafted a Crude Mechanical Rat...]
Leveling up was fine, but Rokan’s goal was one thing: Mechanical Engineering proficiency. And the various devices it unlocked.
Mechanical Engineering’s utility was well-known in his previous life, but Rokan had hit limits raising it.
His hands were too large and thick for delicate work, restricting proficiency gains.
But with this skill, Third Hand, it was different.
Just imagine and focus, and delicate work became possible—complex and difficult tasks included.
Of course, it would consume significant mental power and mana, but overcoming innate limits was plenty appealing.
‘Not Gnome-level Mechanical Engineering, but usable at least.’
He’d already used mechanical rats multiple times, but higher proficiency would allow more varied, easier ways to deal with enemies. Some devices were one-use consumables, others reusable.
Some were too underhanded to use lightly, but their effects were superb.
[Mechanical Engineering Proficiency: 43.4%]
‘First, to 50%.’
That should allow attempting “that thing.”
‘Fill the low success odds with money.’
Even at 1% chance, make it a hundred, a thousand times—something would stick.
With player influx to Taimura booming and gambling as a fun revenue stream, funds were plentiful.
The grind began.
* * *
Two days. Through relentless focus that could make eyes pop and heads split, Rokan achieved his goal.
[Mechanical Engineering Proficiency: 51.3%]
He finally hit 50% proficiency and succeeded in crafting the item.
Even after meeting the proficiency requirement, the success rate was so low that crafting one raised it by 1.3%.
The material costs weren’t trivial, but Rokan smiled contentedly.
“Preparations are complete.”
Still over half a day until the appointed time.
The knight tournament would take place at a neutral third location to prevent foul play—not Linaie or Remington—so no special prep was needed. He’d be summoned on time if he just waited, no risk of being late.
“Ah...!”
So what to do with the remaining time? Thinking briefly, Rokan recalled something he’d forgotten.
A loose end he’d thrown out bait for but couldn’t collect due to the territory war: the saint’s existence.
“Hmm...”
Opening the homepage to check reactions, Rokan scratched his head with an inscrutable expression.
The response was explosive. For pocket change worth less than a potion, full HP recovery and buffs—now a pre-hunt essential.
Plus, the saint’s buffs had special power, far superior to those from massive temple donations.
“It’ll be fine.”
Gauging the situation roughly, Rokan muttered to himself—who he was talking to unclear—and tore a scroll.
Destination: Cocomoro. Where the saint resided.
He should’ve moved regions by now, but the village’s size and the flood of users kept him there, too busy with village affairs.
Tilting his head to listen and scanning the village, Rokan pinpointed the location and strode toward it.
Pushing through the crowd lined up for the saint’s heals and buffs, scattering the queue, he approached.
“Hey, who the hell—!”
“Damn it, cutting in line...”
The waiting users naturally protested, but soon fell silent. They recognized the intruder.
Even those about to snap were silenced and restrained by nearby friends or allies, averting disaster.
“What brings you here? If it’s a blessing...!”
Screeech!
Exhausted from nonstop casting, the saint was startled as Rokan, ignoring the line, lunged forward with a shocking move.
A straight-up preemptive strike!
The sharp blue axe blade plummeting mercilessly was no joke—the saint flailed, unleashing power, but lost balance and tumbled over.
“W-What the...!”
“Cutting in line and now this?!”
“Guards! Call the guards!”
Before the stunned, sprawled saint could react, the users screamed first.
Seeing Rokan’s sudden action as a petty, desperate “if I can’t have it exclusive, no one will” move, they bellowed for guards.
But contrary to their hopes, no guards appeared.
Not because the attack failed. The conditions simply didn’t match.
“What is the meaning of this! My life is no great loss, but I still have people to heal...”
“Healing my ass. That’s what you think, Mr. ‘Necromancer Who Wants to Be a Priest.’”