The Tax Audit (2)
Illusion magic was an art where the gap in power between ranks was stark and unmistakable.
What a basic illusionist could accomplish was severely limited. At best, they might distort the outward appearance of an object.
With greater proficiency came the ability to lend their illusions depth and to manipulate shifts in light and shadow. Even at this level, ordinary people were easily deceived.
An illusionist at the Qi Condensation stage could layer in auditory elements, doubling the sense of realism.
Cross into Foundation Establishment, and illusion magic truly began its ascent into the realm of art. A Foundation Establishment illusionist could manifest touch.
Silky and smooth, slick and slick, cold or scorching—amid a banquet of all five senses, separating truth from falsehood was all but impossible.
A Core Formation illusionist wove narrative into their illusions. They set countless illusory components moving as though alive, spinning them into a single coherent theatrical performance.
And then there was me.
A Nascent Soul illusionist created laws. Within my own world, the rules of reality could be bent however I pleased.
"Squad Leader, something's off. It feels like we've been circling the same spot for a while now."
"Shut up, you idiot! You're breaking my concentration, so keep your mouth shut."
Birch, the Second Squad Leader of the Orchid Knights, had enough skill to throw her weight around. She was already deploying her Awoken Ability in direct opposition to my illusion.
There were any number of ways to dispel an illusion. You could pierce its flaws through raw instinct alone, or strike the illusionist directly to shatter their focus.
For an illusionist, though, there was an even simpler method. Layer your own illusion on top of someone else's.
The catch was that your illusion had to be of a higher order than your opponent's. That was precisely why I'd been able to shatter the farm's illusion with nothing more than a gesture.
"Kyahaha!"
"Kyihihihihi!"
The inspection team was currently watching a swarm of dwarves performing acrobatics as they scrambled across two-meter-tall stacks of documents, right in front of the 223 bedrooms lining both sides of the corridor.
"Squad Leader, no matter how I look at it, this is an illusion."
"Are we really just going to walk past this?"
"Shut it, you bastards. It'll be over soon."
Birch pointed at the dwarves and deployed a wide-area illusion. She knew the technique of layering illusion over illusion.
"Begone!"
Birch's mana drained away in a rush. Yet even with illusion stacked upon illusion, the scene before them didn't change one bit.
"...That's impossible."
Birch gnawed on her fingers.
She was the self-proclaimed strongest illusionist in the duchy. At Master rank, in terms of raw mana alone, she could be considered equal to a Nascent Soul cultivator.
But sharing the same realm didn't mean sharing the same level. A realm, simply put, was nothing more than a name pinned to one enormous mountain.
She and I were both climbers on the mountain called Nascent Soul.
But just as a mountain was divided into foothills, mid-slopes, and summit by its elevation, a realm was divided into upper, middle, and lower tiers by the depth of one's enlightenment.
I stood at the upper tier, at the far reaches of Nascent Soul, while she was merely at the lower tier, at its very threshold. The gap between upper and lower was as vast as standing at the base of a mountain and gazing up at its peak.
"Kyihehehe! Kkehehehe!"
"Let go, you little shit! That's my sword!"
"Squad Leader, why won't the illusion dispel? Do something about these things!"
The inspection team was plunged into utter chaos. Documents fluttered everywhere, and dwarves bounced about in every direction.
"Begone!"
Birch unleashed her Awoken Ability again. But still, nothing changed.
"Tch...!"
She bit down hard on her lip. In a situation like this, there was one last resort available to an illusionist.
Admitting that you were a rank below your opponent.
By stacking multiple lower-order illusions to build complexity rivaling a higher-order one, you could strip away even an illusion crafted by a superior. Casting several techniques simultaneously drained enormous power, but the goal of removing the illusion could still be achieved.
"Squad Leader!"
"This isn't an illusion!"
Birch shrieked hysterically.
"Listen up! This isn't an illusion—it's nothing but the trickery of a cunning merchant! Don't let the scene before your eyes deceive you!"
"Excuse me?"
"Are you in your right mind, Squad Leader?"
"Do I need to say it twice? Stop dawdling and move!"
Rather than admit she was outclassed, Birch chose to deny reality itself. Once she took the lead and plunged into the pandemonium before them, her subordinates had no choice but to follow.
They pushed past the dwarf show, climbed a vertical ladder dozens of meters tall, crossed an endless swaying bridge, and entered the summer festival section.
I returned to Lucian's desk and took out a teacup and teapot. I poured the tea in a smooth stream, settled into the chair, and took a sip.
A book happened to be sitting right in front of me. It seemed to be something Lucian read in the gaps between work. The title was The Mechanics of the Market...
Having nothing better to do, I began reading this tedious tome from the first page.
The allocation of resources according to supply and demand, blah blah blah...
Government intervention in cases of market failure, so on and so forth...
Information asymmetry leads to inefficiency in transactions...
"What are you reading?"
Lucian asked in a sulky voice. At some point, he had returned to the office.
"Already done?"
"Yes. It's been two and a half hours, hasn't it? I've transferred every record that could pose a problem."
I checked the wall clock. He was right. That was how terrifying a boring book could be. It devoured a person's time whole.
"Then I suppose we can call the inspection team up now."
"You've really been keeping the inspection team trapped downstairs this whole time? Birch, the Second Squad Leader of the Orchid Knights?"
"I told you, I was playing with them for a bit."
"At this point, even my own surprise at your antics is starting to wear thin."
Lucian gave a wry smile. I snapped my fingers and withdrew the illusion. A moment later, the inspection team finally arrived at the guild master's office.
"Haa... haa..."
"My, my legs won't..."
To sum up their appearance in a single word: destitute. Hair sticking out in every direction, bodies drenched in sweat, clothes torn all over, armor with loosened straps jangling around their limbs, and weapons missing entirely—more than half of them were wearing nothing but empty scabbards.
"Lucian Grey!"
Birch shouted through gritted teeth.
"You traitor! Start preparing for a cell!"
"S-Squad Leader."
Her subordinates managed between gasps.
"We haven't even started the audit yet. You're the one who told us not to get worked up...!"
"What? How am I supposed to stay calm? What kind of lunatic builds 223 bedrooms in a place of business?"
So they'd counted them one by one. If I'd known, I would've put more effort into the interior decorating.
"Welcome, gentlemen of the Finance Ministry. And you there appear to be from the Orchid Knights—thank you for coming all this way."
Lucian bowed with impeccable grace.
"All this way? Did you just say 'all this way'?"
"Isn't it? You did take the long way around instead of the nearby stairs."
"That's right, you obstructed the official duties of the Finance Ministry! You do understand how serious a crime that is, don't you?"
Just as Birch was about to have a meltdown.
"I suppose knights these days aren't taught manners."
I stepped forward in front of Lucian.
"We greet His Highness, Prince Iden."
The knights and inspectors bowed their heads in unison. Only Birch remained, neck stiff and rigid, staring at me.
Why was Birch so hostile toward me?
The answer was simple enough to deduce. She was the one who had laid the illusion over Mabel's farm. In other words, she bore the obligation of protecting Mabel's most important asset.
But the farm had been spectacularly robbed blind, and Birch had been torn apart by Mabel for failing at her one job—which, by my hypothesis, was why she now hated me like a mortal enemy.
"Please step aside. This matter does not concern Prince Iden."
"Why wouldn't it concern me? I'm the largest investor in Guildmaster Lucian's operation."
"This is a lawful exercise of official duty! Did you not hear anything? This territory is crawling with thieving bastards!"
"You keep going on about official duty, but you're my sister's knight. That's hardly a position from which to execute official duties."
Birch's face turned red as if it might burst. I smiled pleasantly and looked at her.
She probably figured that if she just created a threatening enough atmosphere, everything would fall neatly into place. After all, Lucian was just a half-baked noble who'd bought his castle with money.
I silently thanked Daphne once more. Thanks to her advance warning, I'd been able to prevent a massacre.
"Prince Iden, I am Opils, Chief Clerk of the Finance Ministry."
A middle-aged man with a grave countenance stepped forward.
"A pleasure, Chief Clerk Opils."
He bowed deeply to me.
"First, I must apologize for Sir Birch's discourtesy. The claim that Grey Merchant Guild and His Highness Prince Iden are uninvolved is by no means the official position of the Finance Ministry."
"Why, you little—!"
Birch seized Chief Clerk Opils by the collar. Glaring at him as if to kill, she spoke in a tone that suggested she might devour him whole.
"Lady Mabel appointed me as leader of the inspection team. Know your place, desk jockey."
Judging by the atmosphere, the words if you don't want to die had been left unspoken. Despite the murderous threats of a Master-rank knight, Opils didn't lose an ounce of composure. Still held by the collar, he enunciated his response clearly.
"It is you who should stand down, Sir—if you're capable of recognizing that this behavior constitutes the true obstruction of official duty."
...What was this fascinating standoff?
Wait a moment...
It did add up.
Mabel had only become acting lord because her father was absent; she had never been formally recognized as the legitimate heir by anyone.
Bureaucrats pledged loyalty to the power of the present and the power of the future. Why would they grovel before Mabel, who would step down the moment her father returned?
"Fine. Go ahead and do as you please."
Birch released his collar. Opils brushed off his clothes and bowed to me once more.
"We are aware that Your Highness maintains a close relationship with Guildmaster Lucian Grey. However, he is implicated in numerous illegal enterprises and stands accused of falsifying ledgers to deceive the Finance Ministry. To realize the cause of tax justice, we respectfully request Your Highness's generous cooperation."
Opils was a far more dignified individual than Birch. I nodded readily.
"Very well. Take whatever you need. Just don't touch anything unrelated to your work."
"Thank you for your understanding."
The inspection team finally got to work. They split into two groups: bureaucrats and knights. The knights spread out wide and began combing the office from top to bottom like men dragging a net.
"Anything over there?"
"No, nothing!"
"Nothing over here either!"
It was clear they'd come looking for something specific. But all they could find were the pristine records left behind after Lucian had thoroughly cleaned house.
As time wore on, the knights grew increasingly desperate. I had clearly told them not to touch anything unrelated to the audit, yet they flipped over everything their hands could reach.
They owed their loyalty to Mabel and needed to bring back results no matter what. The bureaucrats, however, seemed to operate under slightly different circumstances.
The bureaucrats processed everything strictly by the manual. They quietly organized documents, and even remembered to take breaks to chat among themselves.
At this point, I called for Lucian.
"Lucian, do you have 'that thing'?"
"Ah, 'that thing.'"
"Yes, that thing."
"I set it aside in anticipation of your request."
Lucian discreetly handed over a thick stack of documents. I flipped through them briefly to confirm they were what I wanted.
"Good. This will do."
I beckoned to Chief Clerk Opils, who was standing at a distance.
"You called, Your Highness Prince Iden."
"Take a break before you go."
I gestured to the attendant. The perceptive servant swiftly set out a cup and saucer.
"I gratefully accept your consideration."
He sat down before me, looking somewhat awkward.
Power was more terrifying than any boring book. No matter how deep in the execution of official duty you might be, you couldn't refuse when one of the three Esterzy who might one day hold the power of appointment invited you for tea.
"You've been working hard. Preparing for an unplanned tax audit can't have been easy."
Opils's eyes wavered. Wondering how I could possibly know that, no doubt.
"So? Weren't you surprised when they suddenly ordered you to raid Grey Merchant Guild?"
"...As you may be aware, Lady Mabel, the acting lord, is taking the recent events very seriously. With the cause of the famine now identified as a second-grade mana source, her position is that tracing the financial flows of the major merchant guilds will expose the culprit."
"How do Grey Merchant Guild's financial flows look? Notice anything unusual?"
"The details will only become clear once we take the materials back to the Finance Ministry for analysis, but..."
Opils let his words trail off.
"...Guildmaster Lucian has kept his affairs in impeccable order. I doubt it will be easy."
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. Remarkably candid words, considering I was a party with a stake in the matter.
"Here, take this."
I handed Opils the documents Lucian had prepared.
"What is this?"
"You'll see."
Opils began flipping through the pages. With each turn, his brow furrowed deeper, until his eyebrows had drawn together so tightly they seemed permanently fused.
The documents were the product of Lucian having thoroughly gutted the internal records of rival merchant guilds in his investigation of the Scarlet Blaze affair. The corruption of Ravenshade—Chris's guild—was documented in particularly lavish detail.
"From what I saw earlier, things don't seem too friendly between you and the knights."
Opils looked at me with trembling eyes. I gave him a warm smile.
"I figured the Finance Ministry could use some results to save face."