12: Exiled Lord — Chapter 12 – Tax Collection, But From Someone Else’s Village 12: Exiled Lord — Chapter 12 – Tax Collection,
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“But it’s not even tax season yet, my lord.” One of the peasants wailed.
Wildcat’s expression didn’t change.
“The Rotten Corpse invasion has made protecting you very costly.
We need more supplies.
If you have objections, we can help you go to hell.” Field’s orders had been simple: collect taxes.
If they got found out, it didn’t matter, just switch to outright plundering.
These weren’t Nightfall Fief people anyway.
Nobody here knew anybody.
That said, the tax route was still safer.
The slaves were weak fighters.
A clash with local militia could go sideways fast.
“We’ll pay!
Full payment!” The village chief gritted his teeth and ordered everyone to bring out the livestock and hand over the grain.
Then he put on a fawning smile.
“And the maiden Baron Bull requested — I’ll present her as well.” Maiden?
Wildcat frowned.
Baron Field had never mentioned anything like that.
Clearly, that was Baron Bull’s order.
The slave guard beside him started to open his mouth to refuse.
Wildcat stopped him immediately.
Refuse, and they’d blow the whole cover.
“Fine.
Bring everything back.” Oxhorn Village erupted into chaos, like boiling water poured straight into an anthill.
2 oxen.
4 sheep.
A clutch of chickens and ducks.
5 large carts of grain.
7 gold coins, 23 silver, and 50 copper.
The entire village was scraped clean, like a bone-scraping knife drawn hard and slow across everything they had.
Weeping and pleading filled the air from every direction.
A full year of accumulated wealth, gone for the most part in a single night.
“Nobles are genuinely terrifying.” Wildcat clicked his tongue quietly.
He’d ended up a slave himself because he couldn’t pay his taxes.
Whether the villagers had hidden anything away didn’t really matter.
It was a windfall either way.
“Damn.
In a separate bunker, he’d found the fog-dispelling lamps the bearded officer had been so obsessed with, 3 of them, along with a large stock of magical potions, mostly wound-healing.
Total value was hard to estimate, but it wasn’t going to be less than 200 gold coins.
Even after all that, when he saw the haul Wildcat had brought back, he let out a low whistle.
He hadn’t expected a single small village to yield this much.
The tax rate must have been brutal.
Wildcat had only hit one village, and 20 men still couldn’t carry it all out in one trip.
They’d even gotten cattle and sheep.
At least he wouldn’t have to worry about meat out here in the cursed lands for a while.
The one thing that sat uneasy with him was the reality of what he’d done.
He’d plundered a village.
“Don’t be a saint.
Survive.” Field knocked himself on the head.
The moral standards he’d grown up with meant nothing in a medieval world built on the simple rule that the strong ate the weak.
He was barely holding on himself.
There was no room to worry about everyone else.
And besides, Nightfall Fief sat directly in front of Bull Territory, serving as a buffer zone.
This “support” was something he’d earned.
Keeping his own people fed came first.
“Good work.
Every person gets one silver coin.” Field smiled and gave Wildcat a nod of approval, cheerfully generous with someone else’s money.
“Once each of you saves up a full gold coin and hands it to me, I’ll grant your freedom.
You’ll become free citizens of Nightfall Fief.” The slaves erupted into cheering like a wave crashing in.
They felt it, actual hope.
“My lord, let’s go collect from the other villages!” The moment Wildcat pocketed Field’s incentive coin, his eyes lit up.
He planted himself firmly in Field’s corner, any lingering sympathy discarded without ceremony.
Bull Territory villagers getting squeezed?
Why would Nightfall Fief people care about that?
Field pumped his fist.
“Absolutely.
Shake every last gold coin out of them.
Try to wrap up by morning — we’re on a tight schedule.
Keep the disguise going.
You’re still Bull Territory guards on tax rounds.
Do it well and I’ll reward you.” Speed mattered, though.
The other cities in the Empire weren’t spineless cowards like Richard.
They’d pick up on Bull Territory’s situation soon enough and send troops to deal with the corruption.
He couldn’t afford to still be here when that happened.
“Uh, my lord — there’s also this girl.” Wildcat stepped aside to reveal a small girl in a plain robe, roughly twelve years old.
Do I look like some creepy old man to you?!
You actually brought me a kid!
Field’s brain stalled for a full second.
“What happened?
Why’d you bring a child back?” “The villagers were offering her to Baron Bull.
I figured it wasn’t anything good and didn’t want the trouble.
But turning her down would’ve blown our cover, so I brought her along on my own call.
Punish me as you see fit, my lord.” “No punishment.” Field exhaled.
“That was smart thinking, Wildcat.
You’re leading the guard detail from now on.” He was glad he’d held his temper.
The girl herself wasn’t remarkable, just a delicate face, nothing more.
Field asked her a few quick questions and decided to keep her.
She knew too much about him now; sending her back wasn’t an option.
And even if he could, her life back in that village wasn’t going to be pleasant.
The next morning, soft sunlight filtered down across the camp.
Ashina lay still, listening to the noise drifting in from outside, chickens, ducks, and cattle making their racket, her lashes fluttering once, twice, before she let out a long, lazy yawn.
The exhaustion from yesterday’s fighting had melted away entirely.
She’d slept deeply and well.
The mat beneath her was soft, carrying a faint gardenia scent that had nothing in common with the cold, damp iron cage she’d called home before.
“I’m glad my lord chose me for a Chosen One,” she murmured.
“Lord Field really is a good person.” She lay there a moment longer, her long legs shifting against each other under the blanket with a soft rustle.
She could have happily slept another hour.
But Field had said they were heading into the gray fog this morning, so she pushed herself up and got moving.
She was already jogging toward him when Field spotted her.
He kept his eyes carefully neutral.
“You didn’t have to run.
I’m still working out the route.” He gestured at the map in front of him.
“I slept wonderfully, thank you.” Ashina nodded with cheerful obedience, falling into place beside him to wait.
The Northern Province was enormous.
Before the corruption, Nightfall Fief and the surrounding territories had held prosperous towns and villages.
Now they were overrun with monsters.
The heart of Nightfall Fief was once a thriving grand estate, belonging to a female Baron named Sophia Starnight, and her Starnight City sat within line of sight of that same estate.
“With what I have right now, building a castle from nothing is a fantasy.
The real play is taking the grand estate, then using it as a base to work toward Starnight City piece by piece.” The map in his hands was 7 years out of date.
Back then, plenty of pioneering knights had set off for the North with dreams of reclaiming the province, servants, retainers, and ambition in tow.
Almost none of them came back.
The ones who stayed were monsters now, without a doubt.
“They’re probably bosses at this point.
Just what I needed.” Field muttered to himself.
“The strategy looks clean on paper.
The reality is going to be something else entirely.” ➤ Next: Amidst the Fog (Part 1)