The sound of horses echoed through Oakridge Village long before the riders reached the square. The steady rhythm of iron horseshoes striking packed dirt seemed to drain the life from the village.
Children stopped playing.
Merchants quietly lowered the cloth coverings over their stalls.
A blacksmith, who only moments before had been hammering a glowing piece of steel, carefully placed his hammer on the anvil and stepped back.
No one had given an order. They simply knew what was coming. Kael noticed every movement.
"They've done this before," he murmured.
Edwin stood beside him, his hands folded behind his back.
"For years."
"Every month?"
"Every month."
"And the Empire never questioned it?"
Edwin didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the riders entering the village.
"The reports sent to the capital have always been... favorable."
Kael slowly looked at him.
"Meaning they were lies."
Edwin lowered his head.
"I cannot say that without evidence."
"But..."
He let out a tired sigh.
"...I have suspected it for a long time."
Five horsemen rode into the center of the village.
Their armor wasn't Imperial.
Instead, each breastplate carried the crest of a silver wolf surrounded by thorned vines. The symbol meant nothing to Kael.
Edwin noticed where his eyes lingered.
"House Halwen."
"The Baron's personal guard."
"The Baron has his own soldiers?"
"Every noble does."
Kael remembered the Imperial Council. Each prince maintained a private army. Each duke maintained one as well.
The Empire allowed it.
As long as those forces remained loyal to the Crown.
The lead rider pulled on his reins, bringing his horse to a halt in the center of the square.
He looked to be in his late forties.
Broad shoulders.
Gray streaks in his beard.
A jagged scar crossed his left cheek.
Unlike the others, he wasn't smiling.
He looked bored.
As if collecting taxes was no different from sweeping a floor.
One of the younger riders jumped down from his horse carrying a wooden chest.
Another carried a thick leather ledger.
The older man finally spoke.
"Citizens of Oakridge."
His voice was loud enough to reach every corner of the village.
"By order of Baron Cedric Halwen, monthly taxes will now be collected."
No one protested.
Not because they agreed.
Because they had learned protesting accomplished nothing.
The tax collector opened the ledger.
"Farmer Walter."
The old man Kael had met earlier stepped forward.
His shoulders were slightly hunched, but he walked with dignity.
He removed a small pouch from inside his coat and placed it carefully into the wooden chest.
The collector counted the coins.
Then frowned.
"You're short."
Walter blinked.
"No, sir."
"I counted them twice before I left home."
"You owe fifteen silver pieces." "There are only thirteen." Walter's face turned pale. "That... that can't be right."
"My wife counted them."
"My grandson counted them."
"There must be a mistake."
The collector closed the ledger with a loud snap.
"The ledger is never mistaken."
Walter's hands trembled.
"Please..."
"The harvest wasn't good."
"I'll pay the rest next month."
The collector didn't even look at him.
"Double it."
Walter froze.
"...What?"
"The penalty for failing to pay on time."
"Thirty silver next month."
A murmur spread through the crowd.
Walter nearly collapsed.
"Sir..."
"I don't have thirty silver pieces."
The collector finally looked him in the eyes.
"That isn't my problem."
Kael took a slow breath.
His fingers tightened at his side.
The system remained silent. It didn't encourage him to interfere. It didn't stop him either. It simply waited.
A woman suddenly stepped forward from the crowd.
She couldn't have been older than thirty.
Her clothes were faded from years of hard work, and her hands were rough with calluses.
She bowed so quickly that she nearly lost her balance.
"Please, Captain."
"My father isn't lying."
"The harvest failed after the eastern canal broke."
"We've already sold two cows."
"If you give us until autumn—"
The collector raised a hand.
One of the guards shoved her backward before she could finish.
She stumbled into the dirt.
Her young son immediately ran toward her.
"Mom!"
The little boy couldn't have been more than six years old.
He wrapped his tiny arms around her as she tried to stand.
No one moved to help.
Not because they didn't care.
Because they were afraid.
Kael looked around the square.
Every face carried the same expression.
Fear.
Hopelessness.
Resignation.
He realized something.
These people didn't expect justice anymore.
They only hoped to survive another month.
Lily quietly wiped a tear from her eye.
"This..."
She whispered.
"It wasn't this bad when I was little."
Edwin's face hardened.
"No."
"It became worse."
"Bram?"
Kael asked without taking his eyes off the square.
"What do you see?"
The old gardener folded his arms.
"I see soldiers."
Kael nodded.
"And?"
"They're disciplined."
"They aren't drunk."
"They aren't enjoying this."
Kael glanced at him.
"You noticed that too."
Bram nodded slowly.
"They're following orders."
"Which means..."
Kael finished the thought.
"...the problem may not begin with them."
The captain opened the ledger again.
"Next."
Another villager stepped forward.
Then another.
One by one, families handed over coins, grain, tools, and even chickens.
Every payment left them poorer.
Every payment seemed to satisfy no one.
Kael quietly watched the process.
He wasn't counting money.
He was studying the system.
Who wrote the ledger?
Who checked the numbers?
Where did the taxes go?
How many hands touched the money before it reached the Imperial Treasury?
His mind began assembling the puzzle piece by piece.
The system finally appeared.
"Imperial Analysis"
Observation Complete.
You are no longer witnessing a tax collection.
You are witnessing a supply chain.
Recommendation:
Never destroy a system before understanding how it works.
Kael read the words twice.
"Exactly."
Edwin looked at him.
"Your Highness?"
Kael's eyes never left the square.
"If I arrest these men today..."
"The Baron sends five more tomorrow."
"If I kill the Baron..."
"Another noble replaces him next month."
Edwin slowly understood.
"You want the root."
Kael nodded.
"I don't want revenge."
"I want the truth."
Just then, the captain's voice rang out once more.
"There's one final order."
The villagers stiffened.
He slowly unrolled another scroll.
"The Baron has announced an inspection of Blackwood Manor."
The square fell silent.
The captain continued.
"He will arrive in seven days..."
"...to meet the Tenth Prince."
For the first time since entering the village...
The captain looked directly at Kael.
Their eyes met across the crowd.
Neither man spoke.
But both understood.
The other had been watching from the very beginning.
The captain gave the slightest nod.
Not respectful.
Not hostile.
Simply acknowledging that he had recognized the prince.
Kael returned the nod.
The game had changed.
In seven days...
The man who had ruled Blackwood from the shadows would walk through the gates of Blackwood Manor himself.
And Kael intended to be waiting.