Chapter 92: Hoodwinked

Before he ever set out for Northwild Town, Lorist had already found it strange — what kind of injury could possibly keep a Silver Three-Star family knight bedridden for three full years without the slightest sign of recovery?

At Dawn Academy, Lorist had studied pharmacy, though he had never obtained a Tier One apothecary's certificate. The main reason was that the certificate required a full year of medical practice, and Lorist had no time to play the angel in white. But graduating from the pharmacy program meant he had become an apothecary apprentice in his own right, and combined with the traditional medical knowledge inherited from his previous life, probing the inner condition of the human body was no mystery to him.

During his pharmacy studies Lorist had learned that in this world of Combat Force, no matter how severe a physical injury, with the aid of potions and Combat Force the body could always recover remarkably quickly. Severed hands and limbs could be reattached as long as the missing parts could be found, and even a body with every bone shattered could be restored. There had once been a case in which two Sword Saints dueled, and the loser suffered devastating injuries — his entire body limp as mud, hanging by a thread. Yet after a year and a half of treatment he was back on his feet, leaping about, and his Combat Force had even returned to its former level.

When Lorist took Beruneke's pulse, he quickly grasped the truth — Beruneke's injuries had long since healed. His current frailty was in fact the result of poison, and specifically of the prolonged administration of a qi-scattering toxin!

Recalling the daily diet Beruneke had described, Lorist hardly needed to think to realize that the so-called Master Dunbassen was behind it all. A Tier One apothecary with the gall to be called a master — tch, the shamelessness of it. By having Beruneke regularly ingest the qi-scattering toxin, the old man prevented him from gathering Combat Force to restore his body or cultivate. Two bowls of thin gruel a day ensured his body received too little nutrition and stayed weak. Then, by blaming everything on displaced and ruptured viscera that could supposedly never heal, the old fox had effortlessly kept a Silver Three-Star knight under his thumb.

In three years, a critical fighting pillar of the Norton family had been wasted away on a sickbed. Had Beruneke recovered early, perhaps Father would not have perished on the battlefield, nor died of his grievous wounds. Had Beruneke been around to hold the family together, there would have been no panic, and no Viscount Kemmes bold enough to march up to their doorstep.

Without a Silver Three-Star family knight to anchor the household, the garrison captains and family heads had the nerve to defy the family's directives — they even harbored delusions of extorting quasi-noble status out of the Nortons… At the thought, Lorist grew angrier with every passing moment, his whole body going cold as killing intent erupted from him.

"Damn it…" Lorist muttered, wishing he could slaughter every last member of the Dunbassen clan. He swore silently that he would not let a single Dunbassen escape.

For all his physical frailty, Beruneke was a veteran of many campaigns who had seen the world, and his mind remained steady. Though startled by Lorist's sudden change of demeanor, he assumed Lorist was simply grieving over his condition. He smiled and patted the back of Lorist's hand. "Don't be sad, my lord. I've gotten used to it. This life will come to an end someday…"

"Brother Bek, you can't stay here any longer. I'm taking you back to the family's manor castle, and I'll find a way to deal with your injuries," Lorist said.

Beruneke froze for a moment, then drew a deep breath. "Very well, my lord. I've grown tired of this place too. Three years — it's been like being locked away in this tiny courtyard. All I've dreamed of is going back to the manor castle…"

"You're not going anywhere without my permission…" A drake-like voice suddenly rasped out behind them.

"Oh, Master Dunbassen, you've come?" Beruneke said flatly.

Lorist turned, slowly, deliberately. Before him stood a haughty, grim-faced old man dressed in a black robe cut in imitation of noble formal wear, with a gray leather vest layered over it.

"So you're the apothecary they call Dunbassen?" Lorist asked, biting off each word.

The old man glanced at Lorist with contempt and ignored him entirely, as though he were not even there. He circled Beruneke once and rasped in that grating voice, "Bek, your condition is far worse. Yesterday you insisted on returning to the manor castle, and the emotional agitation has shifted your internal organs again. Months of treatment, all wasted. For the sake of your health you should stay here and not go anywhere."

"Bullshit!" Lorist scoffed. "Old man, why don't you admit that your treatment is the problem? Three years ago, Brother Bek was gravely wounded fighting a magic bear, yet from the site of the battle to the family's manor castle, and from the manor castle to Northwild Town, he made the journey without trouble. Now, after three years of your treatment, he can't take a single step — hasn't your treatment only made things worse? You self-styled apothecary master clearly have nothing more to offer. There's no point going on. Brother Bek, I'm taking you with me. At worst, I'll spend a few extra gold coins to find a high-rank apothecary to examine you. Don't worry — I have plenty of gold."

At those words the old man immediately lost his composure. "Who are you? What are you doing here? Who gave you permission to enter this courtyard?"

"Ha. Who am I? Brother Bek, tell this old man," Lorist said.

"Master Dunbassen, this is our new lord. This is his territory. You ought to bow and pay your respects," Beruneke said.

"I— I have seen the lord," the old man said, bowing stiffly.

"For the sake of whatever meager contribution you may once have made, I'll spare you this time. Now — you wouldn't object to my taking Brother Bek back to the manor castle, would you?" Lorist asked, idly toying with the hilt of his sword.

Beads of sweat rose on the old man's forehead. After gritting his teeth for a long moment he finally spoke. "Since the lord insists, I have nothing more to say. Allow me to take my leave first — I'll prepare a few vials of medicine for Bek to take at the manor castle, lest his condition deteriorate further…"

"Go on, then. I'll give you one hour to bring the medicine," Lorist said.

Watching the old man hurry out of the courtyard, Lorist turned to Beruneke, who was eyeing him with suspicion, and leaned down to whisper in a voice only the two of them could hear: "Brother Bek, from this moment on, do not consume anything — food, drink, not even plain water — without my permission. Understood?"

Beruneke's entire body shuddered. "You mean to say… I understand."

An hour passed quickly, and old Dunbassen still hadn't brought the medicine.

Steward Kedan came in to report. "My lord, several captains and family heads from the Northwild Town garrison have come to pay their respects. They come with ill intent — you should be on your guard."

…

"This is Captain Morin, and this is the head of the Morin family. This is Captain Hassan, and this is the head of the Hassan family. This is Captain Chubim, and this is the head of the Chubim family — ah, watch your step, there's a hole in the ground, don't trip. And Captain Dunbassen, whom you've already met — Master Dunbassen…" Kedan introduced them one by one as he received the party.

The group filed in, each bowing to Lorist in greeting, and Lorist acknowledged them with reserved nods.

When the last one was in, Lorist smiled. "Master Dunbassen, did you bring the medicine? Oh, it's in that bag there. Sedekamp, take the bag and, when there's time, ask the master exactly how it should be administered before giving it to Brother Bek… Take it now? Ha, there's no hurry. Come, come, Master, have a seat here. We'll discuss matters first."

Once everyone was seated, Lorist surveyed the room and said, "You must all have pressing business to discuss. I'll need to head back shortly, so please speak your minds."

A portly old man stood up. Lorist had heard Kedan introduce him as the head of the Morin family. The man bowed first, then explained the purpose of their visit.

The Morin family head began by apologizing for not attending Lorist's inheritance ceremony the previous night. He explained that the short notice had left them no time to prepare gifts, and they had been too embarrassed to come empty-handed, which was why they had stayed away. He said that upon hearing of the new lord's arrival, they had come at once to pay their respects, and that in a few days, once their congratulatory gifts were ready, they would make a special trip to the manor castle to offer their felicitations.

Lorist graciously replied that he bore no ill will and understood their courteous intent. As for the gifts, he would be happy to receive them when the time came.

Once the pleasantries were done, they got down to business. Speaking on behalf of the Northwild garrison, the Morin family head raised a formal protest to the Norton family. First, for the past two years the Nortons had neglected the garrison entirely and owed them nearly two years of back pay. Although each garrison member's monthly salary was only one imperial silver coin, and the total monthly payroll for two hundred men came to just two imperial royals, the two-year arrears amounted to a full forty-eight imperial royals — no small sum.

Second, more than two hundred years ago, when the Nortons' ancestors had recruited garrison members, they had promised each man's family ten mu of farmland. By now, all the land around Northwild Town had been turned to farmland, yet most garrison families still had no plot to work. They hoped the new lord would resolve the matter promptly, so the ancestors' promise would not become an empty lie.

The third issue concerned the fact that, with limited land and too many people, many relatives of the Northwild garrison were idle. Could the new lord, they asked, issue several caravan transit permits, allowing the surplus labor of Northwild Town to organize small trading caravans and conduct business independently? These caravans, of course, would follow the established practice of paying the lord ten percent of their earnings.

Lorist smiled and nodded along, looking for all the world like he wholly agreed with the Morin family head, but inwardly he sneered. They were treating him like a fool — did they really think he didn't know what these rats were after? It all came down to the third point. They wanted to haggle, to get him to issue a few caravan transit permits so their smuggling operations could trade openly under the Norton banner. Without the permits they could not trade with other merchant houses, could not purchase the supplies they needed, and were forced to conduct petty underground deals in the shadows.

Moreover, this so-called "established practice of paying the lord ten percent" — where on earth had that ever been the norm? Lords did sometimes issue caravan transit permits so their subjects could organize their own trading expeditions, but the lord typically took at least thirty to fifty percent of the profits. Greedy lords who claimed seventy percent were hardly unheard of. Did these people think ten percent was what other caravans paid in tariffs when entering the territory?

Lorist gave the room an apologetic smile and explained that, having just inherited the territory, he had been unaware of the garrison's unpaid wages. Once he returned, he would conduct a thorough investigation, and if the claims were true he would certainly compensate the garrison. He noted that he had brought ten thousand Gold Forde with him upon returning to inherit, and at the market rate of four imperial royals per Gold Forde, forty-eight imperial royals came to a mere twelve Gold Forde — a trivial sum not worth mentioning. So everyone should rest easy; money was not the issue.

This, he said, was a legacy problem, but he was confident it could be resolved. He already had an idea, and everyone was welcome to consider it together.

"Steward Kedan, how many mu of farmland does Northwild Town have in total?" Lorist asked.

"My lord, Northwild Town has over twenty-seven thousand mu of farmland in all," Kedan answered.

"Here's what I'm proposing," Lorist said. "I intend to expand the Northwild Town garrison to four hundred men…"

"What?!" The family heads and garrison captains in the room cried out in surprise. Historically, every Norton lord had done his utmost to keep the garrison's size down, even to the point of abolishing it altogether. How could this one actually want to expand it?

"My lord, without more farmland, how can we expand?" the Hassan family head asked, rising to his feet.

"Farmland? There's plenty of farmland," Lorist said with a smile. "Take Northwild Town. With twenty-seven thousand mu of farmland, if we recruit four hundred garrison members, and count for each man's immediate family — parents, two wives, two children — sixty mu at ten mu per person, four hundred garrison men comes to twenty-four thousand mu. Isn't that more than enough?"

"B-but my lord, those garrison men have other relatives too — brothers, sisters…" the Morin family head exclaimed.

"What are you shouting about? I have plans for them too, of course. Steward Kedan, go fetch a map of the territory," Lorist ordered.

The map was soon spread out before everyone.

"Look here. The terrain is flat and it's not far from Northwild Town. I intend to build a new town here. Once it's up and the surrounding wasteland is cultivated, it won't be any lesser than Northwild Town. At that point we can establish another garrison and distribute farmland on the same terms as in Northwild Town. Wouldn't that solve the problem?" Lorist said, making it all sound effortless.

"B-but my lord, that area is occasionally raided by mountain barbarians…"

"So what about the mountain barbarians? I've hired a very famous mercenary company specifically to deal with them. If they don't come, fine — but if they do, we'll take them as slaves. We need labor for the new town, and I'd be most happy to receive a free shipment! And as for you lot — does the presence of mountain barbarians mean you'll never leave? Will you cower in Northwild Town like turtles in their shells forever? Just look at this place — it's tiny. What kind of future is there here? Besides, the expanded garrison will be deployed to the construction site on a regular rotation. Northwild Town still has three thousand mu of unclaimed farmland, which I plan to grant to three Knight Aspirants — one thousand mu apiece. From among them, one will be chosen as town mayor of Northwild Town and the other two as deputy mayors." Lorist dangled the tempting bait before them.

"M-my lord, are you serious?" The whole room was visibly excited.

"Of course. You all know I studied in Morant for ten years, and this kind of territorial management is the most popular approach there — hailed as the most democratic system of governance. I intend to put it into practice in my territory. Steward Kedan, you stay in Northwild Town for the next few days and register all the bereaved families of fallen soldiers and the landless residents. I plan to use them as labor for the new town. What do you all think?" Lorist said.

"That… that's very good, very good, we wholeheartedly agree…"

Of course you agree — you're probably hoping they'll get out of Northwild Town as soon as possible, Lorist thought, while on his face he wore a serene, easy smile. "Excellent. I'll leave the expansion of the Northwild garrison in your capable hands. It would be best if the new garrison members' farmland is all allocated in advance and those without land are sent to the construction site. That way both matters are handled without friction. I'm counting on you all, and I will remember your contributions."

"My lord, my lord — what about those caravan transit permits?" That drake-like voice could only have come from Master Dunbassen.

"Ah, the caravan transit permits. I'm afraid that's out of the question for the moment. We're currently at war with Viscount Kemmes, and his territory blocks our only route out. Once we've defeated Viscount Kemmes and reopened the road, we can discuss the matter of caravan transit permits then," Lorist said.