Chapter 13
“Anyone here who wants to live? Raise your hand.”
“S-sorry, but our hands are…!”
“Oh right. My bad.”
Before the bandits could fully wake up, I had Lam dig a deep hole in the ground—
wide enough for five grown men to stand in and deep enough to cover their necks.
‘A hole, my lord?’
‘Yeah. Garbage belongs underground.’
‘…Ah!’
Lam quickly caught my meaning and went to work.
I thought his skinny frame would slow him down, but in less than an hour the pit was ready.
Guess living in the mountains makes you tough.
“Ugh…”
After a while the men who’d fainted began to stir,
but having just regained consciousness and finding themselves buried up to the neck,
they were dizzy and disoriented.
“Alright, once more. Who wants to live?”
“P-please spare us!”
“We’ll never do anything bad again, we swear!”
“Man, so noisy.”
I flicked the loudest one hard on the crown of his head.
“Argh!”
His eyes rolled back and he passed out again.
“Well, I get the picture. None of you want to die, right?”
“Y-yes, sir…”
“So you value your own lives.
Too bad you didn’t value anyone else’s.”
“B-but! We never actually killed anyone!”
“Is that so?”
I glanced at Lam.
One of the half-buried men shot him a venomous glare.
“What are you staring for, like you did something great?”
“Argh!”
Another sharp flick, and foam formed at his mouth before he collapsed.
After a pause, Lam spoke.
“My friend Hans tried to stand up to them.
They beat him within an inch of his life.
He survived… but the healers say his leg is ruined for good.”
“Mm…”
“So this scum acted like he was innocent?”
“Gah!”
The one who’d boasted about not killing anyone got a flick as well.
Now only two remained: their leader and the one with the broken shoulder.
“Grrrk…”
The man with the broken shoulder merely swayed, half-conscious, and passed out again.
That left just the boss—the first to start trouble.
I sat cross-legged in front of him.
“Looks like you’re the only one I can actually talk to.”
“Heh… ha ha…”
He gave me a sheepish grin, maybe thinking I wouldn’t spit on a smiling face.
“You can laugh right now?”
“Er…”
“Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
“I—I failed to recognize the young lord and behaved with great disrespect!”
“That’s obvious. Before that.”
“I… I talked nonsense about kidnapping you!”
“Earlier than that.”
“I threatened the young lord’s territory!”
“Yeah. That’s the one that bothers me.”
“….”
Beside me, Lam’s eyes grew moist.
Ah. I had misjudged this man.
Lord Ian Impera truly cares for his people.
And I… I’d cursed him behind his back.
My chest tightened with emotion and my eyes welled up.
‘Though honestly, what really makes me mad…’
…is that because of these idiots I nearly missed out on eating Bluefin fruit.
As if being the disgrace of a poverty-stricken count’s family weren’t bad enough.
“I won’t kill you.”
“R-really? Thank you, my lord!”
“Someone named Hans got hurt, but as that guy said, no one died.
However…”
“…However?”
“You need to pass a test.”
“Anything! I’ll do anything!”
“Good.”
He smiled in relief, clueless about what I had in mind.
“Lam, pick as many Bluefins as you can.”
“Eh? Ah, yes, sir!”
Not knowing why, Lam simply obeyed.
Before long he returned, arms loaded with dark-blue fruit—easily five kilos’ worth.
‘Come to think of it, I never even tasted one earlier,’ I thought.
I’d been about to when these fools interrupted me.
They’re supposed to be sweeter than Redfins…
Crunch!
“Mmm…”
One bite and I knew Lam hadn’t exaggerated.
Juice filled my mouth, rich and sticky, leaving a lingering sweetness.
I devoured a fist-sized Bluefin in seconds.
Perfect as a snack or after a workout for a quick boost.
“Delicious,” I said.
But they were so sweet I couldn’t eat more than two.
Which suited my plan perfectly.
“These are good. You try one.”
“Yes, thank you!”
I pressed a fruit to the leader’s head where it poked out of the earth.
He chewed eagerly.
“Another.”
“Mm… yes, another!”
“Another.”
“Mm…”
“Another.”
“W-wait…”
By the time I’d fed him about five, his face twisted with nausea.
“Another.”
“N-no more… I can’t…”
“Eat, or die.”
“Urk…”
I kept pushing Bluefins into his mouth.
The sweetness was torture enough, but buried to the neck,
his stomach had no room to expand.
“Another.”
“Uwehh!”
He finally vomited, but I didn’t stop.
“Another.”
“Ugh…! P-please…”
“You don’t leave this hole until you finish them all. Got it?”
“Uuugh…”
Lam giggled beside me.
The man glared at him instead of me.
“Oh, that look! Five more.”
“Ghh…!”
“Here’s a fresh batch!” Lam chimed in.
“Chew faster. Want me to add another?”
“N-no, I’ll eat!”
On and on it went until every last Bluefin was gone.
“All done,” I said.
“Haa… haa…”
“If you ever cause trouble in my domain again,
this will seem merciful.
Next time I’ll feed you molten iron instead of fruit.”
“Ghh—!”
He fainted on the spot.
That should be warning enough for any bandit.
‘Killing them would only invite more.
Better to send a clear message.’
Whether all five survive, who knows.
At least one or two will, and they’ll spread the word:
Don’t mess with Ian Impera, the mad heir
who tortures people with food.
“Oh right.”
I almost forgot.
Thunk! Thunk!
I rapped the shoulders of the unconscious men still buried.
Dull thuds echoed.
Their arms might be useless for life…
but so what? They weren’t “blank” by this world’s standards anyway.
“That’s for Hans,” I said.
“Thank you so much, my lord!”
Back in the village, Lam immediately bowed low, eyes misty.
I hadn’t done it for thanks,
but popularity with the locals never hurts.
“Young lord!”
The village chief rushed over, wringing his hands,
clearly worried about his grandson.
“Grandfather!”
“Wahaha! You’re safe, Lam!”
“I just stepped out for a moment, yet you worried so much.”
“Ah… m-my apologies, my lord.
You spared this foolish boy despite his recklessness…
I can never repay such kindness…”
“Good. That saves me time—I have something for you to do.”
“Something… to do?”
The chief looked puzzled.
“Anything, my lord! After you rid us of those bandits, I’ll obey any order!”
“Bandits?”
Excited, Lam explained everything.
The chief reacted much like Lam—bowing repeatedly in gratitude.
“Thank you. Please, just tell me what you need.”
This would be easier than I thought.
“First, we need to change something.”
“Yes, anything!”
“It’s about the village tax.”
“Ah…”
The chief froze.
I knew life here was already hard; he knew it better.
Raising taxes would starve them.
But he held his tongue.
“It won’t hurt your livelihood.”
Relief softened his face.
“Whatever you decree!”
“From now on, I want taxes paid in crops, not gold.”
“…Crops, my lord?”
Both he and Lam tilted their heads.
“Yes. I tried the Redfins earlier—delicious.
Perfect for breakfast every morning.
Bluefins too, from time to time.”
“A-are you certain that’s acceptable?”
“Other crops are fine if you like.
Just deliver them to the manor every first morning of the week.
Possible?”
“Of course! We already sell fruit in the city every two days.
Consider it done!”
“Good. A small cart’s worth should be enough once a week.”
“But my lord! Such humble fruit for your table…”
The chief couldn’t believe it.
For the village, it was a dream deal—
no need to haul fruit to market or sell at a loss just to pay tax.
‘Honestly, it is odd,’ I thought.
‘A count’s household eating thin porridge for lack of food.’
Still, I hoped to use this to trade with merchant guilds later.
I’d need unique local products ready.
‘We can’t stay poor forever.’
For now, it was just about eating well,
but eventually I’d secure a stable supply.
I didn’t explain any of that to the chief. No need.
“What’s with that look? Don’t like the idea?”
“N-no, my lord. We will obey.”
They seemed uncertain,
but they’d realize soon enough how much it benefited them.
‘The revenue loss is small anyway.
This backwater barely pays anything.’
I was confident it would pay off.
As I turned to leave, I remembered what Lam had said about Hans.
Hans… the man with the injured leg.
Technically, keeping order in the domain is the lord’s duty.
If Earl Eamon had more resources,
maybe none of this would have happened.
And part of that neglect was on me.
The thought left a sour taste.
“…Hans, was it? The one with the injured leg.”
“Y-young lord!”
Lam caught my meaning, eyes brimming again.
“I’m not promising a cure—just want to check. Is he here?”
“Yes! I’ll bring him right away!”
Lam hurried off and soon returned, supporting a man on crutches.
Hans looked confused by the sudden summons.
“This is…?”
“This is Lord Impera! He said he’d look at your leg!”
“R-really?”
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,’ I thought.
If I can’t heal it, this’ll be embarrassing.
“Heal.”
I cast the spell and examined his leg.
“…Hmm?”
“Is something wrong, my lord?”
No.
Hans’s leg itself wasn’t the problem.
I’d regenerated torn muscle countless times;
this would be easy for any decent healer.
The real issue was the splint he was using—
something white visible in the wood.
“…This wood. Where did you get it?”
