Chapter 409
Wyridia County. Just a few months ago, it was an imperial territory directly governed by the Crown.
Due to its geographical position as a northern outpost, it served as a marketplace where nomads exchanged goods during peaceful times. Yet when the Emperor decided to clean house and deal with the nomads, it transformed into a military rendezvous point—a miraculous place, if you will.
So why had I completely forgotten about this territory I had been granted? The answer is simple:
“There just wasn’t room in my memory for it.”
Reflecting on it, the events that had unfolded since I received Wyridia as a fief were nothing short of intense.
The Empire, just recovering from wounds, mustered a grand army for an expedition north. They emerged victorious, and the Emperor himself became the Khan. The grand ceremony of improvement (let’s ignore what that means) followed, along with the birth of a legitimacy-maxed Crown Prince. I even became that Prince’s godfather. They decided to establish the Inspection Department. The transfer of Count Tailglehen’s title was also confirmed. And finally, we had the first abdication ceremony in the Empire’s history.
All of this happened in just six months. This is only the official stuff; if I included personal events, I wouldn’t even know where to start.
“I could’ve forgotten that.”
As the embarrassment faded away, confidence took its place. With all that going on, how could I expect to recall a mere county? To be honest, even the Emperor might have forgotten Wyridia was no longer a direct territory until recently.
“I’ll visit the territory soon and normalize things.”
Of course, I didn’t show my confidence outright. Even though both the Emperor and I had forgotten about it, I had still used imperial assets to manage a nobility’s domain, and that was undeniable.
And as I tried to gauge the Emperor’s understanding of my dynamic half-year, he simply nodded and moved on—
“By the way, Minister. There’s nothing wrong in the territory, but I hear something rather interesting happened.”
“Excuse me?”
What on earth does that mean? There’s no problem, but something interesting has come up?
“Can those two coexist?”
It felt like hearing something along the lines of “I drank, but didn’t drive.” If the Emperor considers it interesting, it probably means something major went down.
“You should listen to the chief local governor on-site for further details. I’ve only briefly encountered the matter, so I won’t be able to explain it as thoroughly as he can.”
But when he suggested I go directly if I was curious, I couldn’t argue. Considering my sins of neglecting the territory, this isn’t a bad trade-off at all.
Thanks to the Emperor’s unspoken command, I set off for Wyridia immediately. On the surface, it looked like a suggestion, but when he mentioned managing the territory and something interesting, it felt more like a nudge to get moving right away.
It’s strange. He made me the designated inspector for the Inspection Department tasks, yet he sends me off at lightning speed—what a weird vibe I’m getting from him.
The reason I’m being sent away this time is 100% my fault, but still.
“I present to you Count of Wyridia. I’m Alfred Gelbein, the chief local governor of Wyridia.”
Upon arriving in the heart of Wyridia County, the chief local governor greeted me. Why does the word ‘was’ sound so mournful in this context?
“I appreciate all the effort you’ve put into managing Wyridia on my behalf. It’s something I should have done, and I feel quite embarrassed.”
“Knowing how dedicated you are to the Empire, how can you say such things? I’m simply honored to be of any assistance to you.”
Lead with an apology, so he bowed deeply in response.
Please don’t do that. It just makes me feel more embarrassed.
“Moreover, I’ve grown quite attached to this region, and I’m glad I had time to sort through my sentiments.”
Perhaps sensing my awkwardness, the chief local governor continued with a faint smile.
“That’s fortunate to hear.”
I still felt embarrassed, but his warm consideration made me smile back. Thank you for at least making it sound like that…
“Ah, first, please come inside. I have much to discuss with you.”
“Sure, let’s do that.”
I flinched for a moment at the thought of having much to discuss, but I willingly followed the chief local governor to the lord’s office.
To my surprise—just as the Emperor had assured, there appeared to be no actual issues affecting the territory. If something was wrong, the chief local governor’s calm demeanor would not have been possible.
‘We’ve narrowly avoided the worst.’
Internally sighing in relief, I could breathe easier. I had managed to evade the title of “Grand Lord who neglected his territory and caused a disaster.” At least that’s a positive outcome.
Now, all I need to do is figure out what the Emperor deemed as an “interesting” development.
‘Could it be an issue of authority?’
Suddenly, such conjecture flashed through my mind. Had something happened in my absence due to local officials presiding over a territory with an official owner—just a reasonable guess.
The possibility isn’t too low. Although I forgot that I had received the fief, the local officials had been veterans managing Wyridia since its time as a direct territory. They had experience under their belt, but now that Wyridia had transitioned from direct administration to a noble fief, it would become challenging for the officials to exercise authority. After all, the true owner is somebody else.
Okay, if that’s the case, it’s manageable. I can handle it as the rightful owner.
“The number of nomads in Wyridia is surging.”
But it wasn’t that at all. My little happy thought process derailed the moment I set foot inside the lord’s office.
“Nomads are on the rise?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
He expressed this as he casually took his seat. It’s not all that shocking for my happy train of thought to derail, but still.
What was bizarre was nomads who had been incorporated into the Empire—nomads who had officially become subjects—flowing into my territory.
‘Aren’t the Grand Lords controlling them?’
This is odd. Nomads are currently being managed by thirteen Grand Lords who received titles from the situation. They’re not weaklings by any means—a delicate balancing act of political maneuvering and privilege.
Moreover, as rising new nobles hoping to expand their influence, they’d be looking to bolster their ranks. It would be perfectly logical for nomadic tribes or clans seeking a home to want to gain subjects to yield taxes for their own lord. Thus, given normal circumstances, these nomads shouldn’t have any reason to occupy territories belonging to those tied directly to the Empire.
It should not happen at all.
‘Are they fighting among themselves?’
I was even tempted to ponder that. If the Grand Lords in the north were at each other’s throats, perhaps the nomads were fleeing to the mainland.
However, I had never come across such news. In any case, if the lords of the Empire engage in violent conflict, all parties involved would risk losing their heads per the Empire’s standards. Fighting among the lords is pretty much civil war…
“Not to mention, there’s a significant increase in nomads visiting the marketplace. It seems most of the crowd heading to nearby territories is gathering in Wyridia.”
“…”
After hearing that, I sensed something was amiss.
“Chief Local Governor.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“Did any letters arrive from other nobles while I was away?”
Upon hearing the question, the chief local governor nodded decisively as if he had been waiting for it.
“All thirteen Grand Lords in the north sent letters.”
‘Damn it.’
Like clockwork, my happy thoughts had led me into despair.
‘Looks like I’ve been chosen.’
There are barely words to describe it, but nothing else captures the essence.
I had been chosen by the Grand Lords of the North.
For a noble, a title symbolizes wealth, honor, and power. Moreover, the territory that accompanies it serves as an easy benchmark to gauge a noble’s standing.
So are titles and territories all that matter? Not at all. Noble society has a melting pot of connections within social circles, and true power descends from the central authority, not the local. No matter how high a noble’s title or wealth in their territory, isolating themselves there turns them into nothing more than a hermit.
Sure, among the current dukes, there are three who are only around within their territory. Still, the dukes have accumulated immense connections and bloodlines over the past three centuries. Even if a duke just breathes within their lands, their influence remains intact.
But new nobles don’t boast that sort of history, bloodline, or powerful factions.
‘So they must want to connect with the central authority somehow.’
Now, I get it. They have the title of Grand Lord, have become representatives of the north, and of course want to exert influence over the center. It’s only natural for them to crave connections with mainland nobility instead of being isolated in the north.
Yet I never imagined I’d be that connection. Given the North exists with the legacy of the former Vice Captain’s territory. I would’ve thought they’d go for the established connections with the Vice Captain’s lineage, not aim for a twenty-something-year-old noble.
‘This is just a shout-out for attention.’
I nearly sighed. The growth of nomads within Wyridia signifies, “We will not block those who want to become subjects of Count Wyridia.” It’s a massive concession by a lord to allow tax-paying subjects to come under their rule.
Likewise, the influx of nomads into the marketplace within Wyridia reflects a similar principle. “We will only conduct transactions through Count Wyridia.” It’s voluntary economic submission.
There’s no doubt about it. One marquis in the north and the twelve counts have reached out to me. They’re extending their hands, saying, “With the support of thirteen Grand Lords and the strong nomadic forces behind us, please become our leader and guide us.”
‘Could this be from a tribal leader?’
Confusion rolled over me. No matter how it’s spun, it reeks of the delicate politics of a 100% settled noble.
Or could it be that even the politics of nomads are hardly distinguishable from that of civilized folk?
“…Let’s check the letters first.”
“Yes, I’ll bring them right away.”
After a moment of silence, I finally spoke up. Even though this was a faction I stumbled into without intent, at least I needed to confirm what they had written.
‘This is insane.’
I came just to sort out my fief, and now I’ve inadvertently become a figure in a faction I could never have imagined. And not just any faction—a small, yet powerful faction comprising all Grand Lords.
Nah, with a marquis in the mix, I can’t even call it small. What factions could rightfully claim to be larger if even a marquis is involved?
‘Is this divine punishment or what?’
Suddenly, past memories surfaced. Returning to the system after the northern expedition, I had thought a faction made up of the northern Grand Lords would give the Emperor quite a headache.
Yet here I am, becoming part of that very faction. If I had known, I would have laughed at the Emperor back then.
‘This is definitely divine punishment.’
When you laugh at others, the pain always boomerangs back to you.
It’s a chillingly ironic alignment of right and wrong.
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