The Economy Is Mine
The morning should have been filled with the rich scent of grilling meat and the sweet aroma of cabbage soup, just like any other day. Instead, only cold silence hung over the meeting room table. Between the empty surface—not a single steamed potato in sight—Rodin sat clutching his stomach with hollow eyes. As always, Ivona and Lize had taken up positions on either side of him.
“Saintess, would you kindly move your foot? I have no desire to suffer divine desecration first thing in the morning.”
“My, the Archmage should watch where she swings that staff of hers. The mana waves pulsing against my instep are most unpleasant.”
The two women continued their fierce under-table foot battle to defend their seats beside Rodin. Just as he opened his mouth to grumble, “Don’t bother me,” the meeting room door swung open with solemn grandeur and Veronica appeared.
In her hands she carried a leather ledger thicker than most grimoires and a stack of documents bearing the ornate imperial seal. She sat at the head of the table with a cool smile.
“Effective immediately, the Black Mane Mountain Stronghold is abolishing its free meal system.”
At Veronica’s bombshell, both Ivona and Lize’s eyes widened.
“Points? Wasn’t the Lord’s mercy supposed to be free?! It is only natural to provide meals without charge, like manna falling from heaven!” Ivona thumped her chest in indignation.
Lize slammed her staff against the table. “Don’t make me laugh, Princess. After I reinforced the barrier around the stronghold yesterday and handed over those ancient mana research documents, you’re going to charge for food? This is blatant labor exploitation!”
Veronica flipped through the ledger with perfect composure. “The research materials were already deducted as rent for that luxurious laboratory you occupy. And Saintess, I assume you’ve forgotten that the three bowls of braised ribs you consumed yesterday equaled an entire week’s food budget for our stronghold.”
She pulled a small, glowing rectangular object from her pocket and waved it. It was a meal ticket.
“Only I hold authority over these ‘Stronghold Points’ and the issuance of meal tickets. Those who do not work shall not eat. This aligns with Rodin’s usual philosophy as well, doesn’t it, Rodin?”
“Huh? Uh… Well, as long as the food keeps coming, I don’t really care.”
When Rodin nodded absently, Veronica stamped the document with a triumphant smile.
“You heard him. The owner of this house has given his consent. Now, let’s assign today’s tasks. If you want meal tickets, prove your worth with your bodies.”
In the cabbage field behind the Black Mane Mountain Stronghold, the woman once revered across the empire as its most noble figure was now crawling through the dirt, her pristine white vestments covered in soil.
“O Lord… for every weed I pull, bestow upon my stomach the blessing of one bowl of beef cabbage soup… Ah, is that the scent of meat drifting to me like a divine hallucination?”
Her hands moved beyond human limits. Each time she seized and yanked a weed, the ground exploded with sharp popping sounds and clouds of dust. Her speed surpassed that of most warriors swinging their swords. In her mind, only the vision of today’s lunch menu—‘Hearty Spicy Cabbage Soup with Extra Meat’—floated like a mirage.
Veronica sat elegantly beneath a parasol, sipping chilled iced tea as she observed the scene.
“Saintess Ivona, I see several roots still attached to that weed. That’s a deduction.”
“A deduction?! Lady Veronica! Surely this earns me at least one meal ticket? Consider the soil beneath my fingernails as an offering to the Lord!”
“Still far from sufficient. Clear the entire field across the way and I’ll grant you a ‘Premium Meal Ticket’ with double meat toppings. Oh, and I heard the meat today is from a wild boar that Rodin caught himself.”
“Premium?! Wild boar boiled pork?!”
Ivona’s eyes rolled back. A brilliant burst of divine power erupted from her entire body.
“Ah, do not tempt me! Veronica’s cabbage soup is more fearsome than Satan’s whisper! Lord, grant me sword-master-level footwork!”
Instead of hymns, Ivona chanted “Meal ticket… meal ticket…” as her work song and began tilling the field at the speed of light. The noble Saintess’s pride crumbled pathetically before a single slice of pork.
“Goddammit… Why does the Master of the Empire’s northernmost Magic Tower have to install an automatic irrigation system in this backwater field?!”
Lize gripped her staff with trembling hands. Before her stood Veronica, arms crossed at the hot spring entrance, blocking the way. After overexpending her mana on research yesterday, the stronghold’s mana hot spring was no longer a luxury but a matter of survival for Lize.
Yet Veronica remained firm. “Then don’t. In that case, I’ll take it that you’re surrendering today’s hot spring pass. Rodin mentioned how much he likes the new cypress scent we added and went in already. It’ll be very quiet with him there all alone, won’t it?”
“Rodin’s in the hot spring right now?!”
Lize’s ears perked up. A chance to collect research data, relieve her fatigue, and admire Rodin’s muscles all at once.
“Ugh! Fine! I’ll do it! That kind of thing only takes me a second!”
Lize raised her staff high.
“[8th Circle Magic: Hydration of Gaia]!”
A legendary wide-area spell originally meant to save drought-stricken lands was instead used to water the stronghold’s cabbage field. Gentle mana-infused moisture descended like mist, precisely soaking every inch of the plot. It was a moment of magical engineering perfection being wasted on agriculture.
Rodin, watching from afar, muttered in admiration.
“Oh… that looks convenient. No more hauling heavy buckets of water. Princess, make that mage do more. She’s pretty useful.”
“Hehe, don’t worry. Tonight I’ll have her develop a dedicated field-plowing spell as well.”
To earn a single hot spring pass, Lize had buried the pride of an Archmage deep in the cabbage field soil.
Once the noisy interlopers had been chased off to their respective workplaces, a long-awaited peaceful calm settled over the stronghold’s wooden platform. A gentle breeze rustled the cabbage leaves, accompanied only by the distant sounds of Ivona’s frantic weeding and Lize’s incantations.
Veronica naturally lay down, using Rodin’s lap as a pillow. He clicked his tongue as if annoyed, yet his hand gently stroked her soft golden hair.
“How is it, Rodin? Nice and quiet, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It feels like I can finally breathe without those two chattering beside me. But aren’t you working them too hard? The Saintess was practically crying while pulling weeds earlier. Looked like she was trying to eat the dirt.”
Veronica smiled contentedly with her eyes closed.
“They’re simply paying for the meals they’ve eaten. I need to teach them that there’s no such thing as a free lunch so the hierarchy in our stronghold becomes clear. Besides, managing them this efficiently will make our home even stronger and wealthier.”
She took Rodin’s hand and pressed it to her cheek.
“You just relax and watch your cabbages. I’ll handle the money, the people, and all the bothersome tasks. Understood?”
“Sure… You be the boss. I’ll just farm. Oh, and don’t forget to give me plenty of meat for dinner.”
“Of course. I’ve already set aside the best cuts for my husband.”
Rodin froze for a moment at Veronica’s bold use of the word “husband,” but soon closed his eyes, lulled by the warm sunlight.
Under the rule of the mistress who now controlled the economy, the stronghold’s order was being perfectly restructured.
At long last, the eagerly awaited dinner service began. A strange line had formed in front of the stronghold cafeteria. Ivona and Lize stood holding trays, their bodies covered head to toe in dirt and grime.
Veronica inspected their meal tickets with a stern expression.
“Saintess Ivona. Three sections of the field were found to still contain weeds from this afternoon’s work. You also failed to properly shake the soil from your vestments. One type of meat side dish will be deducted.”
“No! Please! Vegetables alone cannot satisfy the hunger of my soul! Lady Veronica, in the name of the Lord I beg you—allow me at least that one piece of meat!”
Ivona clutched her tray and wept. Veronica coldly reclaimed her ticket.
Next was Lize’s turn.
“Archmage Lize. The mana flow in the irrigation system became unstable toward the end. Ten minutes will be deducted from your hot spring time, and you’ll only receive half a ladle of soup.”
“You… you wicked landlord of a princess…! Do you have any idea how precious my mana is?”
Lize wanted to explode in anger, but the aroma of soup tickling her nose made her look at Veronica with the most pitiful expression she could muster.
“Fine… Tomorrow I’ll control it with 9th-circle precision. So please, just give me some soup…”
Rodin, watching the two from the head table, quietly tossed two large pieces of meat from his own plate onto their trays.
“Hey, good work today. Eat up. You’ll need the energy if you’re working the fields again tomorrow.”
Ivona and Lize looked up at him with tears glistening in their eyes.
“Cult Leader…! You truly are the only one for us!”
“Rodin… I’m genuinely touched. Tomorrow I’ll even cast temperature control magic on the entire field!”
Witnessing this heartwarming scene, Veronica rapped her spoon sharply against the table.
“Ahem! Rodin may be the one providing the food, but I am the one who approves those bowls! Stop daydreaming and eat with gratitude!”
The continent’s greatest talents quietly bowed their heads at the princess’s scolding and began chewing their rice.
Deep in the night, after everyone had fallen into exhausted slumber, Veronica smiled with satisfaction as she reviewed the day’s ‘labor performance metrics’ and warehouse inventory.
The stronghold was no longer merely a hiding place for bandits. It had evolved into a ‘premium cabbage production site’ blessed by the Saintess’s divine power—completely free of pests—and a ‘mana resort’ where the Archmage’s magic provided optimal moisture levels.
“Dagan, Gil. Starting tomorrow, raise the hot spring entrance fee by twenty percent. We’ll also begin pre-order sales to imperial merchants under the brand ‘Cabbage Personally Weeded by the Saintess.’”
“Yes, Sister-in-law! This land really is worth its weight in gold! Are we finally going to be sitting on a pile of money?”
Dagan’s mouth hung open in delight.
Veronica gazed softly at the light going out in Rodin’s room and murmured,
“Hehe. Now we only need to watch out for external enemies. I will protect Rodin’s peace. No matter what it takes.”
As her ambitious plans painted the night sky, a messenger emerged through the thick fog beyond the stronghold’s main gate. In his hand was an official letter bearing a vivid imperial crest. A sinister seal woven with golden thread marked the document.
The Third Princess Veronica is hereby ordered to return to the imperial capital immediately.
The sound of hoofbeats shattered the predawn silence, heralding a new storm that would shake the stronghold’s peaceful daily life to its core.