A Mage Reborn: Legacy of the Fallen Emperor
Chapter 58. Introductions

Chapter 58: Chapter 58. Introductions

"Then have them prepare a meal while we discuss," Romandro said. "We won’t be able to eat properly once we return, will we? You should fill up here."

Creak, Thud!

"That... that... noble..."

As soon as the door slammed shut, Romandro clutched the back of his neck, muttering. At this rate, he might actually develop a prejudice against border counts.

Ian picked up the documents Romandro had been reviewing and checked them one by one. "The prices are one thing, but the list itself is completely unsatisfactory."

"I know. There are hardly any relief crops."

With a harsh winter looming, what they needed were crops with short harvest times and relatively high yields – relief crops. But Mereloff’s offer consisted only of luxury ingredients primarily consumed by nobles.

"It’s ridiculous. Was he on bad terms with Derga?"

"I wouldn’t know about that. But regardless, he wouldn’t be pleased with the trade itself."

They were already short on food, and now an advisor from the Imperial Palace had arrived, expecting to be fed. Besides, they had undoubtedly suffered losses due to the battle in the Bratz territory.

"Some of the enemy tried to escape to Mereloff during the battle. The Bratz mansion’s steward even had his head chopped off here. They had to lock the gates and couldn’t go outside during that time..."

With the forest right in front of them, they couldn’t gather firewood, hunt, or even pick berries. Their trade must have been disrupted as well. It was impossible to know exactly what inconveniences they suffered while isolated, but it was easy to imagine.

Romandro groaned, clutching his head.

"Advisor."

"Hm?"

Ian tapped the table, then slowly called out to Romandro. In truth, even if they couldn’t secure food supplies here, Ian had a solution.

"Forgive my presumption, but I estimate the support fund to be around 3,000 gold coins. Am I correct?"

"That’s... a sensitive matter, so I can’t say."

"I know a way to spend it much more valuably than buying cream and olives here. If you, Romandro, trust and follow me."

Gula, the crop called God’s grace, which had eradicated Bariel’s great famine. Ian possessed four sacks of gula seeds.

Compared to other relief crops, its cultivation period was overwhelmingly short, its yield abundant, and its nutritional benefits significant.

Why spend this money on this when they had a perfect food source?

"What do you mean?"

"We cannot spend the precious support fund from the Imperial Palace like this. It’s wasteful, and furthermore, it’s extravagant."

"I agree, but what other option do we have?"

Ian overturned the documents as if they were worthless and pushed them aside. He then asked Romandro’s subordinates to check for any eavesdroppers. Once they were out in the hallway, Ian whispered quietly.

"We’re going to buy something else here."

"Something else? What?"

"People."

At the unexpected words, Romandro’s eyes widened, and he blinked.

"...Slave markets are only held in the central region. Is Count Mereloff holding one?"

"No. That’s not it. I mean to buy labor."

Even if they didn’t spend all 3,000 gold coins, it would be enough, Ian whispered. Romandro, completely bewildered, pondered, alternating his gaze between Ian and the trade proposal documents.

"Lend me your ear."

Ian smiled and whispered the existence of gula into Romandro’s ear. Romandro’s complexion gradually turned incredulous, but only for a moment.

"They’re just leaving?"

"Yes, Count. They said they would retract the trade."

Count Mereloff glanced at the food laid out on the table. Contrary to his words about preparing a grand feast, it was centered around a stew of boiled meat. A dish commonly eaten by commoners, where not a single drop of broth could be wasted.

He had intended to show his displeasure with the trade proposal itself through this. The Count stroked his beard and wrinkled his nose.

"They’re full of themselves."

"Shall I see them off?"

"No need. Make some excuse."

Outwardly, he hadn’t turned a blind eye to help. They simply hadn’t chosen it. Count Mereloff had been worried they might accept the trade at that price.

’Soon, the Tenryeo tribe, who can’t stand the cold weather, will also return, and when everyone is starving, there will be no other way.’

The reason Mereloff ruled like a king in the borderlands was primarily because, being a border region, it was out of the Imperial Palace’s sight.

No matter what happened, the Imperial Palace wouldn’t know – that was the physical and psychological distance.

But what if an Imperial Palace official took the position of the Bratz lord?

’Damn it. Just thinking about it...’

Mereloff, being a neighboring territory, would essentially fall under the Imperial Palace’s gaze. In that case, it would be better for Mereloff to take over Bratz. Although there was the burden of having to deal with the barbarians geographically, it was much better than having the Imperial Palace as a neighbor.

The Count strode over to the window and looked down. Ian and the advisor were standing in front of the carriage, near the main gate. The two were facing forward, talking about something.

"Perhaps he simply dislikes having someone from the Imperial Palace in Bratz."

"It’s burdensome to have them as neighbors, I see."

"It’s also a matter of principle, but what good are principles when you’re dead, right?"

Too far away, Count Mereloff didn’t realize he had been accurately read by Ian. Romandro thought carefully, acknowledging that it was a fitting assessment of the situation, and nodded.

"Yes. That’s right. I hadn’t thought of it that way."

"By the way, the steward is a bit late, isn’t he?"

"The Count must be busy with his affairs."

"I don’t know. I don’t think he’ll be seeing us off."

Ian clicked his pocket watch and muttered. Now that he had confirmed Mereloff’s stance, all that remained was to return to the territory and introduce gula to Romandro.

"Oh, my."

Just then, a woman emerged from the back door of the garden. It was a noblewoman with platinum blonde hair tied up in a bun, adorned with all sorts of extravagant decorations.

"...Lady Mereloff?"

"Ian! You must be Ian, right?"

"It’s a pleasure to meet you."

Ian hid his surprise and greeted her on the back of her hand. Unlike Count Mereloff, she was a woman full of vitality. He had assumed she would be middle-aged, being a friend of Mary’s, but she was much younger than expected.

"I am Rien Mereloff. So, I heard you had arrived, but are you leaving already? Stay for a meal."

The woman was young, but her position and everything else were above Ian and Romandro. It was a natural condescension, and Ian, knowing this, didn’t feel any resistance. Just a thought, She’s a bit rude, perhaps.

"The Count graciously offered, but we have a mountain of work to do, so we cannot join him. I hope we have another opportunity in the future."

Swish.

The woman fanned herself with a flamboyant fan and gave a mysterious smile. Ian and Romandro exchanged glances, sharing a silent question. Why was the Countess acting like this? Come to think of it, something felt off.

’The dress that doesn’t match the season, and the somehow averted gaze...’

It was the kind of feeling that made you want to turn around if you met her in an alley. An impression not easily gained from a beautiful Countess.

"Advisor?"

"Ah. I am Romandro."

"It’s an honor. I thought I wouldn’t even hear your name."

"I apologize."

"Is this your entire party?"

She asked, twirling her fan with a gentle gesture. Half of those who came with them had already gone down to the main street. To buy the ’people’ Ian had proposed.

"We thought it would take a while, so they left ahead. We’re waiting for the steward."

"Ah, I see. Has the Bratz territory been settled well? My husband doesn’t tell me anything about that side."

"Yes. Thanks to you."

"Oh, ho ho. And I have a question."

"Please, speak, my Lady."

The Countess covered the lower half of her face with her fan and drew closer. The servants seemed to have closed their eyes and ears, their heads bowed.

"Who is using Lady Mary’s room?"

"Lady Mary’s room?"

"I lent her something and never got it back."

Shh. As if to lower her voice, Lady Mereloff’s tone gradually decreased. Ian remembered Mary’s last moments and exclaimed.

"Ah."

Lady Mary had said there was something in Mereloff that would be helpful if he took it. She hadn’t told him what it was, but she had said it until the moment she left the mansion, so it must not have been something easily lost.

Lady Mereloff’s eyes sparkled, urging Ian on.

"Well? Is the room intact?"

"...It should be. We don’t go there often. If you wish, you may visit anytime."

"Would that be alright?"

"Of course. It’s an ownerless room, so who would say anything?"

At Ian’s words, the Lady’s eyes curved in satisfaction. Just then, the steward emerged with a small box, and the Lady turned her head as if nothing had happened.

"My Lady?"

"The guests are leaving, and the Count?"

"Ah. Due to sudden business, he is unable to leave his post. He asks for the guests’ understanding, and this is a small token of Mereloff’s sincerity. He also said to let him know if there is anything he can help with as a neighboring territory."

The steward bowed politely, and the Lady covered her mouth with her fan and sneered. The steward had a knack for softening the Count’s harsh words. Ian took the box and nodded.

"Please convey my gratitude."

"Then, we’ll be on our way. Ahem."

Romandro also gave a brief farewell and boarded the carriage. As they exited the main gate, the Countess didn’t take her eyes off them until the end.

Clip-clop, clip-clop.

"What is that token of sincerity?"

"Judging by the smell, it seems to be dried meat."

"My, my, the rumors about the borderlands were indeed true."

This was a reference to the social prejudice that the border counts were vulgar and barbaric. Ian, understanding the meaning, smiled slightly, and Romandro, confirming that the mansion was far away, spoke.

"The Lady is also quite strange."

"I didn’t expect her to be so young. I thought she was the same age as Lady Mary."

"The Count seemed a bit older, was it his first marriage?"

"I don’t know about that..."

"Never mind, tell me more. You said there’s a crop with a harvest time of just about a month?"

Romandro leaned closer to Ian, his voice filled with anticipation. He never imagined such an incredible crop existed here!

So this is why they say to go to the capital to see the center of the world, and to the borderlands to see the change of the world.

"Where did it come from? The Great Desert? Yes, it must have a strong vitality because it comes from the desert. What’s its name? What do you call it?"

"You already know it, Advisor."

"Hm? What?"

"Gula."

"...Gula? The weed gula that I know?"

Unlike Ian, who smiled softly, Romandro’s face was filled with dismay. The thought, We’re doomed, clearly filled his mind.