Swiss Arms
Chapter 137

Swiss Arms

Chapter 137

-VB-

Anton Luhr

It's been roughly half a year since he, his family, and his guild found their way to Fluelaberg and settled down.

During that half year, he learned a lot of things, a lot of which came from the so-called "library" that sat next to Fort Fluelaberg. This library offered knowledge free of charge, but no one could take the books out of the library; if he wanted to read a book that belonged to the library, then he had to read it within its premises.

But there were plenty of books even outside of the library. Thumal's Bookshop was one such place.

He bought quite a number of books from the library, including the "Basic Macroeconomics." It was such a good book, too, explaining how the world's trade and finances functioned in details that he had experienced but hadn't been quite able to put into flowing lectures like the book showed. His most favorite book, however, was his own copy of the Bible. Bibles were rare and expensive. Even monasteries possessed very few Bibles, spending a lot of time not only copying them but also copying other holy texts.

And all of this was because Fluelaberg had broken the secret of papermaking, not parchment, and of "printing," whatever that was. That secret was one that he hadn't been allowed near or even view.

While books have been his favorite about staying up in these mountains, his true passion of being able to provide and expand his family and the guild was what kept him here instead of moving on.

And it was here that he could cultivate connections that he never could at Munich.

Merchants came from as far as Rome to Fluelaberg in search of the dyes, porcelain, and knowledge. He met an "English," a "Moroccan," a Greek, a trio of Turks, many Jews, a Danish, and even an Irish, though she was a slave being freed by the count.

And speaking of which, yes, the baron was now a count. It was announced shortly after the war came to an end. He knew about it before, of course. Information like that was considered basic for someone of his class and profession.

To his surprise, though, most of the people knew just like he did. They took great pride in seeing the fledgling noble rising up the ranks while also growing this "Compact."

The Compact was … it was still a nebulous subject for him. Yes, he understood that there were many "member states" of the Compact, but because the "constitution" of the Compact was written when all members were villages, even the smallest of villages that entered the Compact as a founding member counted as a "state."

But there were also states that exceeded a village's population, wealth, and power by many folds. The County of Fluelaberg was one such state, but there were others like the Prince-Bishopric of Chur, Abbey of St. Gallens, and the County of Toggenburg-Sargans. At the same time, those villages grew in size because almost all of them laid in the newly established trade routes between Fluelaberg, Chur, and Lindau. But they didn't grow fast enough in wealth or population to have a great say in the affairs of the Compact.

Indeed, despite what began as a defensive organization between villages during a hard time, the Compact has become a sort of a noble republic.

When the Mayor of Maienfeld spoke, people thought about it.

When the Count of Toggenburg spoke, people nodded along.

When the Count of Werdenberg spoke, people hesitated.

When the Prince-Bishop of Chur spoke, people prayed..

When the Count of Fluelaberg spoke, people followed.

Because the fact of the matter was that the newfound riches came from Fluelaberg, the military might of the Compact came from Fluelaberg, and everyone in the upper echelons of Compact's society owed something to Fluelaberg.

And that meant that his meeting with the count was something closer to talking with a duke, because the Compact was a true duchy-sized territory.

The guard outside the count's office knocked on the door.

"Milord, Merchant Luhr and Terrena are here."

"Let them in."

The guard opened the door and stepped aside.

Anton glanced at the ex-smuggler, who was busy looking forward and gulping. He obviously felt terrified about meeting the count.

Why wouldn't he?

The count was a killer of men. Has been for years.

Looking away from the ex-smuggler and facing forward, Anton took a deep breath in and stepped in first.

The office was warm like the last time he'd been here. Books and notes in their shelves, a light brown desk, a table, and couches on either side of it that allowed visitors and owner to relax if they wanted to.

"Come. Take a seat," the count said without looking up, and they did. The door closed behind them as Anton took a seat, followed hesitantly by Terrena. The count scribbled something down before he finally looked up.

And then Anton knew that he hadn't been called up for another business opportunity.

The count's eyes were hard and flaky.

Angry.

"Welcome back, Luhr. Terrena."

"It's a pleasure to meet you again, milord," Anton bowed deep while seated before slowly raising himself back up. "How can we help you?"

The count didn't say anything for a while before looking to Terrena.

Then the count pulled a paper off of the desk and held it out just outside their reach.

Anton quickly stood up, took the paper and sat back down.

After a glance to the count who nodded his head, he looked down at the paper.

Numbers.

Numbers everywhere.

Names. Names associated with numbers.

Numbers that … looked wrong.

'Oh.'

Someone's been stealing from the count.

'Oh shit.'

He handed the paper over to Terrena, who looked far more anxious than Anton felt, and when the ex-smuggler read the paper and came to the same conclusion, he paled dramatically.

"I- I- I had nothing to do with any smuggling since settling down, milord!" the ex-smuggler quickly defended himself.

"I know," the count replied with half-lidded eyes. "If you had been, then do you think I would have called you up to my office?" The morning sun cast a shadow over the count's front, but his eyes seemed to shine with an unnatural light.

An emotional light.

A shudder ran down Anton's spine.

"When I initially called for you to meet me today, I didn't think too much about this. Crimes happen, I know," Count Hans said with a slow gesture toward the paper. "But the more I thought about it, the angrier I became." A pause. "Did I not provide a better life for all? Did I not accept the lowliest of the low? Did I not limit predation of the nobles against the merchants and commoners alike?" He paused again before clasping his hands in front of his face and meeting their eyes. "Answer me. Did I not?"

Anton immediately bowed. "You have, milord! The people of Fluelaberg and Davos are blessed to have you." He knew that despite the fact that he's only been here for six months. The people here were happier. Richer. Calmer.

Babies survived fevers that should have killed them, assuming they got a fever in the first place. That alone was more than what most could ask for.

"Then why are there smugglers who decided to be greedy with what is mine?" he asked quietly. Calmly.

He pulled his hands away and set them down on the table slowly.

And the wood cracked.

Anton froze.

There was no slap down on the table.

The man just rested his hands on the table and the table's surface shattered.

"Both of you are connected enough with the merchants and workshops. I've seen it. At the same time, neither of you have intertwined yourself with the community here yet. It gives you a certain … distance, should I ask you to investigate. And that is exactly what you are here for. Both of you will work together to find these smugglers for me. Smugglers that are obviously people who work and live in my city and not some peddlers sneaking out a few plates without paying the tax and tariff. I want them found and I want them kneeling in front of me. Do you understand?"

They both nodded frantically.

"Good. The rangers have been told to cooperate with you. The only thing you will not do is torture."

They nodded again.

"Dismissed."

They hurried out after bowing, and, after some walking, found themselves alone around the corner of the corridor.

It was only then that Anton allowed himself to stop holding himself up. His trembling legs collapsed under him and he slid down the wall he'd braced against at the last second.

Terrena, on the other hand, was holding his head.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…!"

"Please don't tell me you're involved…" Anton begged.

"I'm not!" Terrena replied with a snap with wide eyes. "Don't even insinuate that!"

Anton let out a weak chuckle. "He's scared us both, eh?"

"I'm fucking terrified."

Anton didn't know how. But merely being in that room had morphed the initial anxiety they felt upon entering into outright fear, especially after he'd seen the wrath glinting in the count's eyes.

"... Do you have any idea who might be behind this?"

"... A few."

-VB-

[Skill LvL up!]

[Terrify] LvL.3

Causes the target to gain [Fear] debuff. Higher the target's Charisma, less likely it is for them to be affected.

Debuff: Fear

Reduces stat effectiveness by [sqrt(Cause.Charisma - Target.Charisma)].

Causes Target to seek distance with Cause.

May cause Target to become violent if left with no option of Retreat.

[Character Status]

Name: Hans von Fluelaberg

Age: 22

Title: Count of Fluelaberg-Rheintal

LvL: 50

HP: 1090

MP: 690

ST: 545

STR: 140

END: 109

AGI: 89

DEX: 69

INT: 69

CHA: 29

My Charisma was 29. Most people had a Charisa of 8 to 12.

Both Luhr and Terrena had Charisma 11, so their stats had been reduced by 4 while the [Fear] debuff was active.

For most people, this would mean going from normal adult capabilities to a young adolescent. Dumber, weaker, slower, repugnant. A man who could negotiate through normal business deals would become a fool incapable of understanding the logic and even some of the longer words.

It was a good tool for me to use, but as I had just seen with Luhr and Terrena, using it would have to be limited. If my own subjects became fearful of me even without my bullshit Gamer power's debuff being applied to them, then they would … well, aside from the fact that they would have trouble interacting with me, they would become less efficient.

I disliked thinking about people like that, though, but I had to. If I made emotional choices, then I would end up like Duke Rudolf when he attacked me. He acted on his emotions instead of acting logically. The end result of that particular fiasco was me running my sword through a bunch of his knights and men-at-arms.

That single disaster caused several decade's worth of damage. Some knightly houses within Bavaria weren't expected to recover for at least two decades, if at all.

No.

Even if someone was actively stealing from me, I needed to be careful in how I treated my own investigators, my collaborators, and the pace at which I operated.

… As much as I hated to think it, if limiting the damage meant the perpetrators got away, then I might just let them.

(But if my rangers wanted to chase after them after I let them go, then, well, PTO was a thing for those under my service.)

I looked back down at the papers on my desk and the ruined table, and let out a sigh.

Yeah.

Allowing myself to indulge in emotions, especially destructive ones, was not going to get me anything productive except regret.

Because now, I needed a new desk.