Chapter 133
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 133
Chapter Title: There's No Such Thing as a Free Lunch (1)
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"By imperial decree. Based on the aforementioned merits, the Frontera Territory shall be elevated to the status of a county."
A hush fell at the tail end of the solemn proclamation.
No one dared to speak carelessly.
Not the imperial envoy who had read the decree.
Not his attendants.
Not even Haviel, kneeling neatly at his side.
Everyone was the same.
Then, after a moment.
The baron—no, now Count Frontera, newly promoted—began to sob.
"......Sniff, sniff, hic!"
He hurriedly clamped his hand over his mouth.
But he couldn't stop the tears.
The overwhelming gratitude bubbled up no matter how he tried to suppress it.
In that whirlwind of emotion, his shoulders trembled like a balloon figure flapping in the wind.
*The world. The world. How could something like this happen to us...!*
He could scarcely believe it, even hearing it with his own ears.
Yet he had no choice but to believe.
The envoy standing before him.
The decree scroll in his hand.
The solemn declaration ringing out.
It was all real, true, and happening right now.
*Our family... such a blessing...*
Count Frontera fought back his sobs and bowed his head even deeper.
Meanwhile, the envoy continued with the rest of the decrees.
"Decree Number Two. With this elevation, confusion in hierarchy may arise between the Frontera County and the central territory of the existing Creemo region, Creemo County. Therefore, it is hereby commanded that the Frontera County be granted independence from the Creemo region's administrative structure in the form of a special direct-controlled city."
*Oh ho.*
Lloyd's lips curled slightly upward as he listened.
*Independence as a special direct-controlled city. A measure to prevent tangled noble hierarchies.*
It made perfect sense upon reflection.
Originally, the Frontera Territory had been a subordinate administrative unit under Creemo County.
But if it suddenly got promoted to county status?
It would instantly place them on equal footing with Count Creemo.
Having two count families in one region would create an awkward situation.
In other words, it would muddle the hierarchy between Count Creemo and Count Frontera.
*So splitting the administrative districts and granting independence is the smart move. As expected of King Sis.*
She wasn't just a master swordsman; her political acumen was top-tier too.
As Lloyd mulled this over, the envoy began listing the various benefits accompanying the county elevation.
"Decree Number Three. Thereby, the Frontera County is designated as the central hub for the reconstruction of the eastern region. Accordingly, all tax remittances to the royal family are hereby exempted for the next twenty years."
*Oh?*
Lloyd's eyes widened.
But the perks didn't end there.
"Decree Number Four. The royal family hereby announces that it will specially allocate and provide budgets and materials for the Frontera County's reconstruction over the next ten years."
*Heh heh heh?*
His mouth curved up to his ears.
There were more sweet deals too.
"Decree Number Five. The Racona Viscounty, adjacent to the Frontera County, is hereby granted to the special direct-controlled city of Frontera as a subordinate territory."
*Racona Viscount... Kuhahaha!*
At this point, Lloyd couldn't help but shake with laughter.
He nearly burst out.
A slew of other benefits followed.
The right to borrow investment funds from the royal central bank at the lowest interest rates, the authority to attend the House of Nobles meetings, eligibility to form marriage alliances with the royal family, the power to levy troops from subordinate territories, and even personnel authority over the appointment and dismissal of subordinate territory lords.
A string of minor privileges spilled out like Vienna sausages.
Each one was a powerhouse of authority and perks.
Utterly incomparable to their days as a mere barony.
"This concludes the conveyance of His Majesty's congratulations and blessings to Count Frontera. Proclaimed in the capital Magenta, Year 618 of the Public Era, January, by Queen Alicia Termina Magentano."
Snap!
The scroll rolled up.
The envoy smiled courteously.
"My congratulations, Lord Count Frontera."
"Ah, thank you... no, my thanks."
Count Frontera—formerly Baron Frontera—still felt dazed.
Even as he received the envoy's congratulations.
Even as the servants and maids around him cheered.
Even as the jubilant news spread to every village in the territory.
Even as he returned to the mansion for his usual unremarkable dinner.
The daze lingered.
His feet floated.
His mind spun.
He felt like he was drifting on clouds.
In a word, it didn't feel real.
*Me... a count?*
In a stupor, he picked up his spoon.
He scooped mushroom soup, spilled it back onto the plate, scooped again.
*Something I never even dreamed of.*
He'd always thought such a thing would never happen in his lifetime.
Just last year, he'd been drowning in massive debts.
"But that's exactly why we all need to get our heads straight from now on."
"......"
"Um, are you listening to me?"
"Huh?"
A voice pierced through his foggy ears.
Startled, the count snapped to attention.
He looked up at Lloyd across the dinner table.
Lloyd smirked faintly.
"It must feel unreal, hazy, and dizzying. Honestly, even I'm the same."
"Uh, y-yeah, it does."
"Yes. So we all need to stay sharp from here on out. Me included, everyone."
"Stay sharp?"
Lloyd's voice came across with calm composure.
It helped steady Count Frontera a bit.
Lloyd continued.
"Because the intent behind this county elevation is crystal clear."
"Intent? You mean Her Majesty's?"
"Exactly."
Lloyd grinned.
"Countless territories in the Eastern Mountains were smashed by the monster domino effect. Elevating our territory—which is already swamped with refugees—in that situation means they're designating this place as the reconstruction hub."
"The reconstruction hub."
"Which means we'll be busy."
"Right."
Count Frontera nodded slowly.
Listening to his son, it clicked.
"A higher status comes with equally heavy responsibilities. And..."
"No more coasting as rural nobles, sucking up the sweet life in small ways. The game's gotten bigger."
The smile on Lloyd's lips twisted into a wry one.
The Frontera family's promotion to count status was great.
They'd gained tons of perks and powerful authorities.
But that meant more responsibilities too.
They were drifting away from the simple life of enjoying modest rural nobility.
*Of course, no worries about getting tangled in rebellions.*
At least while Queen Alicia held the throne.
Thanks to his praise title, "Bearer of Magentano."
*The praise rank is kingdom legend. The effect? 'No suspicions of rebellion or treason whatsoever.' Insanely good. It covers the entire kingdom territory, and lasts as long as Alicia reigns.*
A tremendous effect, all things considered.
Honestly, the sweetest option among his praises.
*The worst thing for a noble is getting falsely implicated in a rebellion.*
History was full of it.
Even cheesy palace dramas showed as much.
No matter how powerful a noble or elite?
One rebellion accusation, and heads rolled.
Even if it was a false charge or mere suspicion, they might still force-feed you poison.
*This place is no different.*
Being immune to such suspicions was a godsend.
Especially now, with their status skyrocketing to a prestigious count family.
"So that's why I'm saying this. Now that the family prestige has risen and our authority has grown, we should wield that authority properly from here on."
"Wield our authority? Do you have some plan in mind?"
"Yes."
"Very well, what is it?"
Count Frontera asked.
Lloyd organized his thoughts.
Their status had just risen.
Massive authority granted.
Perfect time to savor the sweet taste of power.
"The Racona Viscount to the south."
"Racona Viscount?"
"Yes."
The Racona Viscount who used to torment them.
The one who'd gotten a royal smackdown over capital taxes.
Time to etch the true flavor of power onto that viscount's skull.
With that resolve, Lloyd smiled contentedly.
"For starters, summon the Racona Viscount tomorrow morning."
♣
The next morning dawned.
Racona Viscount literally came dashing in, his mustache fluttering.
He'd already received the envoy's visit last night.
He'd duly received the queen's decree.
He knew the Frontera Territory had been elevated to county status—and that his own territory was now subordinate to the Frontera Count family.
The Racona Viscount, a plump, prosperous local lord.
To him, this news hit like a bolt from the blue.
*What...? That Baron Frontera, with nothing to his name, becomes a count? And my superior, no less?*
He wanted to dismiss it as nonsense.
It was too absurd to believe.
But he had no choice.
A decree was absolute royal command.
It took effect the moment it was proclaimed.
Knowing this well, Racona Viscount hadn't slept a wink all night.
*What happens to me now?*
His usually fluffy, light bedding.
But now burdened with worries, it felt unbearably uncomfortable.
Heavy, unnecessarily hot, cloyingly sticky.
Even the pillow and nightclothes grated.
*Haa. Why the hell did I ever do those things...?*
Sighs poured out endlessly.
He had plenty of skeletons in the closet regarding Frontera Territory.
Each sigh brought a panorama of his past misdeeds flashing in his mind.
Contemptuously dismissing Baron Frontera at every turn was basic.
He'd even insulted him at a banquet hall.
And recently?
He'd stirred up conflict over the Marez Reclaimed Land.
Then polluted the river flowing into Frontera Territory as blackmail.
*What do I do from here?*
The more he thought, the darker his outlook.
He'd tossed and turned all night.
Seriously pondering his next move.
Should he prepare gifts and grovel?
Or apologize again for past wrongs to score points?
That's how he'd spent the night.
But come morning, a messenger arrived from Frontera Territory.
The count was summoning him.
*Gasp.*
His heart plummeted.
So it came this fast.
He dressed in a frenzy and raced over like the wind.
And there he was, bowing before Arkos Frontera, now a count.
"Ahem. Long time no see, Viscount Racona."
"I... I see you, Lord Count."
"But is something troubling you?"
"P-Pardon...?"
"You're sweating quite a bit."
"Ah, no. The clothes are a bit warm... Anyway, my heartfelt congratulations on your promotion to count."
"Hahaha. Thank you. Actually, I called you to receive those congratulations in person."
"I-Is that so?"
"Hoo, as if. Just kidding."
"R-Right! Ah, ahahaha."
He knelt on one knee in formal greeting.
He forced a businesslike smile at the count's lame joke.
Only then did it start sinking in, bit by bit.
Frontera, the pipsqueak noble he'd barely acknowledged before.
Now his superior.
That realization sharpened when he was led to the office and faced Lloyd, son of Count Frontera.
"Long time no see, Viscount?"
"......"
"You look a bit haggard since last time? Sallow complexion, dark circles. Not getting enough sleep lately? Should I sing you a lullaby?"
"......"
"Whoops. Too much chit-chat. Let's get to business. Here, this way."
"Th-Thank you."
He sat where Lloyd indicated.
Unable to lean back, he fidgeted with his hands under the table.
Lloyd grinned at him.
"Nervous, by any chance?"
"No."
"Relax and sit properly. I won't bite."
"......"
"Yes, like that. At least get comfortable in your seat."
Lloyd smiled even brighter.
Racona Viscount grew more uneasy.
*At least get comfortable in your seat?*
That meant a barrage of uncomfortable topics incoming.
His gut screamed it.
And three seconds later, instinct became reality.
"To cut straight to it: we need to raise the capital tax."
"......Pardon?"
"Whoa, don't look so shocked. The reason's simple. Winter's coming, right?"
"Y-Yes."
"When winter hits and it gets cold, the water in the aqueducts will freeze, yeah?"
"Yes."
"And then the pipes burst, right?"
"Y-Yes..."
"If pipes burst? Viscount Racona's pristine dyeing water for the Racona fabric mills won't flow, will it?"
"Pr-Probably not."
"So we'll put extra effort into preventing the aqueduct pipes from freezing. Maintenance is key. But maintenance costs money, doesn't it?"
"......"
"This is all for your benefit, Viscount. Think about it. If I don't maintain the aqueducts, who loses out? Whose tear ducts will gush blood tears? Should I just ignore it? No way. Not between us. Your misfortune is my misfortune, right?"
"I-Is it...?"
"Of course. So the capital tax hike due to rising maintenance costs is inevitable."
"How much of a hike...?"
"Modestly, three times the current rate seems fair."
"......"
*This crazy robber!*
The viscount nearly yelled without thinking.
That Lloyd was the devil incarnate.
Summoning superhuman patience amid his rage, he clenched his fists under the table and rasped.
"Th-Three... times?"
"Surely you don't think that's too much?"
"......"
"Right? You're relieved it's finally a fair tax, not just double or something?"
"......"
"Viscount, I see us as close allies who understand each other perfectly."
Lloyd beamed contentedly.
Watching Racona Viscount's face cycle red-blue with fury was utterly refreshing.
Absurd bullying?
Unfair power trip?
Not in the slightest.
Not just because Racona had tormented them before.
*This is purely pragmatic.*
The sudden capital tax hike.
It wasn't mere revenge or emotional thrill.
It was a cold, calculated response to their reality.
The Frontera County faced endless expenses.
Tax exemption from the royals. Massive aid funds. But money kept pouring out. They'd need to secure revenue desperately.
Then Racona Viscounty became a subordinate territory.
One not burdened by refugees, either.
In other words, safely protected from the monster domino effect thanks to them—sucking up the honey without the refugees.
*Can't let that slide.*
Shared burden.
Mutual aid.
The refugee load they carried.
Subordinate Racona Viscounty needed to shoulder some too.
Pure pragmatism.
Plus, from his intel, the viscounty was financially well-off.
A threefold tax hike?
Tough, but manageable.
"So anyway. Might as well expand our county engineering corps while we're at it. By cherry-picking troops from your viscounty, max numbers."
You don't get to suck honey alone.
If I can't, you can't.
No—if I'm spinning, you spin too.
You spin way more than me to soothe my soul.
Under that ironclad leech motto, Lloyd's orders poured out like machine-gun fire.