The Continent's Richest Man
"The residence for His Imperial Majesty the Emperor... How about the Palatium, the one the Grand Bishop used during his last visit?"
"Hmm... Good idea. It's been vacant for quite a while, so I'll send people right away to clean it up."
"Considering we have to feed and house the accompanying officials, servants, and merchants, and all that..."
After meticulously calculating every little detail, a staggering figure appeared before the officials. It wasn't just money—it accounted for all the supplies, time, and security costs. The total easily surpassed a small territory's annual budget.
For a brief moment, pride swelled on the faces of the officials, who had trimmed every unnecessary expense and scrimped as if it were their own money. But that pride quickly faded, replaced by the chilling reality of the homework ahead.
"So... we have to report this result to him..."
Their faces twisted into expressions like indigestion from lunch pie, stubbing a pinky toe on a desk corner, or realizing too late—upon arriving at the lodging during a blizzard—that they'd left the office keys behind. Each imagined their own personal worst-case scenario.
"He won't just sign off on this amount, right?"
"No choice. If we sit on our hands and pretend it doesn't concern us, who knows what might happen."
"Whether it's my money or someone else's, money's always the enemy..."
"But... who has to report it?"
The youngest official's question plunged the meeting room into silence. Sharper than ever, glances darted between them. Some thought of excuses, others of weaknesses to exploit, and a few of seniority.
"Ahem. I need to go tally the warehouse inventory now."
"The warehouse goods aren't going anywhere—shouldn't we report first?"
"Hey now! Those goods are practically Lord Byeon Gyeongbaek's property. How could I delay? Oh, and you! Forgot how I covered for you breaking that bow at the training grounds last time?"
"Wh-what does that have to do with now?!"
One official watched the messy squabble between the logistics manager and the finance officer, then quietly added as if struck by a thought.
"By the way... doesn't our youngest usually step up with 'I'll do it' at times like this?"
The logistics and finance managers' faces lit up, while the youngest's darkened instantly.
"Come to think of it, isn't it shameless? Finance officer? We're all racking our brains here, and the kid's just hiding quietly in the corner."
"Heh heh. Mistakes should be made young to be forgiven, right? Be generous, logistics manager."
"Hmph. Well, if the youngest volunteers to report to Lord Byeon Gyeongbaek, who am I to argue?"
Everyone except the youngest swiftly reached a consensus and fled the meeting room like escaping prisoners. In the suddenly empty room, the youngest official—duped in broad daylight, or rather, saddled with the report—blinked back tears of injustice.
"Money?"
Pigeons perched here and there on the wide open ground inside Utopia's premises. Cynthia scattered finely crushed feed for the messenger birds, feathers fluttering in her hand's wake.
"Yes. Money."
No one knew how she trained them, but the pigeons seemed to have their own order. Flocks swooped in sequence to peck at the feed.
Cynthia flashed a light smile, amused by Seolhwa's fascinated stare at the messenger birds.
"Hmm... I don't know how much you need, so I'm not sure what to say."
With a deft wrist snap, she tossed feed left and right simultaneously. The waiting pigeons moved in perfect unison to snatch it up. It was a circus-worthy sight, and Seolhwa unwittingly clapped.
"And from what I hear, Vice Warden, you've padded your pockets nicely with your 'side hustle' at the Academy?"
"Beats me... No idea what you're talking about."
The scions of prestigious houses sent to the Academy were essentially hostages. For families granted hereditary succession through merit, too many heirs meant headaches over succession. And the shakier the family from internal strife, the more vultures circled for scraps.
The insecure imperial family bound local lords with fragile feudal oaths. Prestigious houses wanted to avoid heir infighting. And the sidelined young masters and ladies had their reasons too. The Academy perfectly satisfied them all.
It gave the imperial family solid hostages in the lords' children. The houses a way to offload excess heirs who were a burden just by existing. And the young ones a shot at high imperial office, even if not lordship.
Plus, admitting talented commoners regardless of status sprinkled in the dream of dragons from mud puddles. The Academy's 'true' founding purpose neatly solved everyone's problems.
"I just couldn't ignore my classmates on the brink of grade repetition or expulsion."
"Oh my. I haven't even said what side hustle yet... Feeling guilty? Hehe."
But the sidelined heirs rarely buckled down to studies. They hid behind their future-high-official status, indulging in playboy antics.
The Academy's rules weren't lenient, though—cumulative failures at year-end exams led to departmental review and expulsion.
To students backed into that inevitable cliff, Seolhwa would whisper in passing: 'Ah, this exam's past papers are all~ out there, but I can't just hand them over, huh...'
That sparked a money tree so lucrative he could've bought a capital house. Overflowing, even.
'Most went to sourcing Utopia intel, though.'
"Ahem... Well, seems pointless to hide it. But I need way more than that."
"How much?"
"An army... Say, Lord Byeon Gyeongbaek's forces. How much to hire them?"
She grabbed all the remaining crushed feed and flung it at once. The pigeons scattered like wind in a rage.
"That's a very dangerous thing to say. So you've decided to trust me a little now?"
"I'll just say the intel you gave me has been—and continues to be—hugely helpful."
"Money to hire Lord Byeon Gyeongbaek's army... Truth is, I need more details."
The pigeons pecked endlessly at their chatter.
"More details?"
"Troop numbers? Composition? Mercenaries like mages or griffon riders included? One-off battle or prolonged war with entrenched positions? Can't starve them, so food supplies too, plus transport methods... Off the top of my head, that's what comes up."
"R-right."
Coo! Suddenly, the pigeons all stared at Seolhwa in unison.
"As expected from someone with real war experience—battle-hardened wisdom doesn't fade."
"'Battle-hardened wisdom'? Charming word choice, Vice Warden."
She shot him a playful glare and sat at the table to pour tea.
"Can I be frank?"
No reply. But her eyes signaled open ears.
"Even if you've planned every detail down to that, wars don't always go according to plan."
"Oh?"
"I can't even predict your answer right now—how could anyone forecast when a battle starts or ends?"
"Ahahaha! Honestly... How are you so cute and spot-on? If I were a bit younger, I'd ask you to watch the moon with me, Vice Warden."
"Tonight work for you?"
Caught off guard, her eyes widened before she covered her mouth in uproarious laughter. Seolhwa shrugged and took the seat across.
"You're right, Vice Warden. No matter how well-prepared, things rarely go to plan—more often the opposite."
"So more money is always better."
"Spot on. Even in this severed-from-the-world place, gold never loses its shine."
The rich, deep aroma of black tea wafted up, reminiscent of noble ladies' rooms at the Academy.
"Take Lord Byeon Gyeongbaek's army here in Manrmursk as an example... Well-trained cavalry, wall-guarding infantry and archers... Plus a fair number of war mages on payroll."
"They're stationed for border defense, aren't they? Think he'll hand them over just for cash?"
"Manrmursk runs a reserve militia system—trains civilians for emergencies. Should be fine. And... who in their right mind picks a fight with the Empire now?"
Cynthia had a point. Post-expansion war, the Empire's power was at its absolute peak. Manrmursk had been the front line, packed with war heroes from brutal sieges, now guarding the border. Attacking there? Just a fancy suicide.
"True... So how much to move that army?"
"No idea."
"Pardon?"
Her brazen admission of ignorance left Seolhwa speechless.
"Hard to guess what the new Lord Byeon Gyeongbaek would charge. And word is... he's not one to negotiate easily."
"Hmm..."
A low hum escaped Seolhwa's lips. Whatever the cost, whatever the new lord demanded, that army was essential to him. As soon as possible. Before the Emperor finished his tour and returned to the capital.
"It's not impossible."
"Meaning...?"
"Just have enough money to meet whatever he asks."
Like a genie's lamp granting wishes. Absurd enough to laugh, but Cynthia's face was dead serious.
"Sounds impossible, but your expression says otherwise."
As if expecting this, she slid over a new envelope with leisurely poise.
"Now I'm actually excited what's inside."
"Hehehe..."
Instead of words, she offered a meaningful smile. He tore it open before feeling its soft texture. Inside: a certain someone's personal details and criminal record. Someone Seolhwa had run into often lately.
"This person..."
"The continent's richest man, as far as I know."
By now, not a single pigeon remained on the grounds.