"It's done," Olivia said softly. "We're bound now. Partners."
"Partners," I agreed, extending my hand.
She shook it firmly. Her grip was strong, her hand calloused from weapons training. This was not a woman who'd built her position through social manipulation alone—she'd fought for it, bled for it, killed for it if necessary.
We were going to work well together.
"Now," she said, all business again, "let me introduce the people I've brought as per our agreement."
She gestured to the middle-aged man with the soldier's bearing. "This is Alfred. Former guild branch officer, fifteen years of administrative experience, absolutely trustworthy. He'll serve as your butler and primary liaison with the guild. Anything you need, tell Alfred and he'll coordinate with us."
Alfred stepped forward and bowed deeply. "My lord. It's an honour to serve you."
There was something familiar in his eyes—a hardness that spoke of difficult experiences, combined with an odd warmth when he looked at Olivia. This was someone who owed her a personal debt, not just professional loyalty.
"Alfred," I acknowledged. "Welcome to my service."
"And this," Olivia continued, indicating the younger man, "is Cecil. Knight Commander with experience in ten military campaigns. He'll command your guard forces and handle security operations. He's 45 and extremely competent."
Cecil bowed as well. "My lord. I look forward to serving you."
"I've also brought fifteen servants—all background-checked and trained," Olivia said. "And hundred knights to form the core of your military force. They're assembled outside waiting for your inspection."
Hundred knights. That was significant investment from her. Well-trained knights weren't cheap to maintain, and lending them to me for free under our contract meant she considered this partnership critically important.
"And this," she produced a thick leather folder, "is every piece of documented corruption, embezzlement, and criminal activity in your barony for the past ten years. Names, dates, amounts stolen, evidence. Everything you'll need to clean house."
I took the folder, hefting its weight. Thick, Very thick. The previous Baron had presided over a remarkably corrupt administration.
Perfect.
"Your first supply," I said, producing a wooden box containing ten vials of mana reflux cure. The azure liquid caught the light, glowing faintly with internal luminescence. "This should satisfy your initial testing and allow you to begin marketing to high-value clients."
Olivia took the box reverently, staring at the vials like they held her sister's life. Which, in a sense, they did.
"I'll have regular production ready within a week," I continued. "By the end of the month, you should receive your first full shipment of thousand bottles."
"Good." She stood, tucking the box carefully into her jacket. "Baron Edward, this has been... productive. I look forward to our partnership."
"As do I. Safe travels, Guild Master Olivia."
After they departed, I sat alone in the drawing room for several minutes, processing what had just occurred.
I'd just bound myself to a magical contract with one of the most dangerous women in the kingdom. If I betrayed her, I died. If she betrayed me, she died. We were locked together now for ten years, for better or worse.
But I'd also just secured exclusive distribution for a product that would generate obscene wealth. I'd acquired a skilled butler, a knight commander, hundred and fifteen trained personnel, and access to the Crimson Ravens' intelligence network.
Not bad for a morning's work.
**COURTYARD OF THE MANSION**
I walked to the main hall where Alfred had assembled the old staff as I'd ordered. Every servant, every guard who'd served under the previous Baron stood in nervous clusters, whispering to each other and shooting fearful glances in my direction.
They'd heard rumours, of course. New lord, new administration, people disappearing for "meetings" they never returned from. Fear hung in the air like smoke.
The new knights Olivia had provided lined the walls—professional soldiers with hard eyes and hands that never strayed far from weapons. They'd been briefed on what was about to happen.
I stood on the raised platform at the hall's far end, looking down at the assembled staff. Maybe seventy people total—servants, guards, administrators.
How many were corrupt? How many had been stealing, lying, enabling the previous Baron's cruelty? I'd find out soon enough.
"Cecil," I said calmly, my voice carrying through the silent hall. "Arrest them all."
For a moment, nobody moved. Then chaos Started .
The old knight commander's hand flew to his sword. "What is the meaning of this?! You can't—"
"Read the charges," I ordered.
Alfred stepped forward, unfurling the scroll. His voice was clear, carrying to every corner of the hall: "Tax evasion through falsified collection records. Falsifying inventory ledgers to hide theft. Purchasing excessive goods with barony funds for personal use. Direct theft from manor stores and treasury. Spying for external parties, including Count Valadon. Human trafficking through the port facilities—"
"LIES!" The knight commander drew his sword fully now. "These are lies! The previous Baron approved everything! We were following his orders!"
Several guards moved to support him, drawing weapons. Others dropped their swords and raised their hands in surrender, wanting no part of what was coming. Still more stood frozen, uncertain which side to choose.
"The previous Baron is dead," I said coldly. "His orders died with him. You stole from these people—" I gestured toward the windows, toward the villages beyond "—you starved them, you beat them, you sold their children into slavery. And you did it for profit, not because you were ordered to."
"We have families!" A servant woman fell to her knees, hands clasped in supplication. "Please, my lord! I have three children! They'll starve without me!"
"You should have thought about that before you embezzled twelve years' worth of textile funds," Alfred said flatly, consulting his documents. "Your children are innocent. They'll be cared for. You will not."
The knight commander lunged forward, sword raised to strike me down. He was fast—trained, experienced, dangerous.
But Cecil was faster.
Steel rang against steel as Cecil intercepted the blow. The two commanders circled each other, and I saw murder in both their eyes.
"Take him alive if possible," I ordered. "I want him conscious for his execution."
That broke the last resistance. The guards who'd been considering fighting saw their commander engaged, saw the hundred new knights surrounding them, saw that this was already a lost battle.
Weapons clattered to the floor. Servants collapsed in tears. A few tried to run and were caught immediately by the new knights.
Within minutes, every member of the old staff was in custody. Cecil had disarmed the old commander without killing him—barely. The man had taken a sword pommel to the temple and was unconscious but alive.
"Take them to the dungeon," I commanded. "Public execution tomorrow. I want the entire territory to witness what happens to corruption in my domain."
As they were dragged away—screaming, pleading, cursing—I felt nothing. No remorse, no satisfaction. Just cold purpose.
This was necessary. To establish authority, to eliminate the rot, to send a message that the old ways were dead.
Alfred approached quietly. "My lord, that was... efficient."
"It was messy," I corrected. "But necessary. Now—the administrative workers. He needs to be arrested as well."
"Already done, my lord. Cecil sent men an hour ago when we first reviewed the documents."
Good. One less thing to worry about.
"The public won't like this," Alfred continued carefully. "Seventy executions at once... many of these people have families in the villages, friends, relatives who'll be angry at their deaths."
"I'm aware." I turned to face him fully. "Which is why you'll make an announcement during the executions. Just before the first blade falls, you'll inform the crowd that taxes are reduced from sixty percent to ten percent for the next two years."
Alfred's eyes widened. "That's... my lord, that's brilliant. The anger will evaporate immediately."
"It's practical," I replied. "People will forgive almost anything if you improve their material conditions. And I need their cooperation, not their resentment." I paused. "Also arrange for five or six people in the crowd to start praising me after the announcement. Plant them strategically so they start the chant, then let the crowd follow."
"Crowd psychology," Alfred murmured, making notes. "Make them feel like supporting you is the popular choice, so they join in to fit in."
"Exactly. And one more thing—arrest the village head. He's complicit in the port trafficking operations."
"Already in custody, my lord."
I nodded approval. "Then we proceed as planned. Oh—and I'll need you to recruit fifty workers who can keep secrets. The kind who understand that loose lips result in very permanent unemployment."
"For the mana cure production?"
"Among other things. I have multiple projects that require discretion."
"Consider it done, my lord."
**ALONE IN MY OFFICE**
After everyone left, I finally had time to review the territorial documents in detail.
The barony was larger than I'd initially thought—425 square miles instead of the 325 listed in official records. The late Baron had hidden a full hundred square miles from imperial taxation, likely using the undocumented land for illegal operations.
I found maps showing the true boundaries: forests full of monster-populated zones, a functioning port for maritime trade, iron ore mines that were supposedly "depleted" but actually still productive, and agricultural land along the river that supported fishing operations.
The income sources became clear:
1. Monster cores: Hunters regularly ventured into the forests and returned with cores to sell. Modest but steady income.
2. Taxes: Absurdly high at sixty percent, crushing the common people but generating significant revenue for the Baron.
3. Port operations: This was the big one. Trade ships came through regularly, paying docking fees and purchasing local goods. But the documents also revealed smuggling operations—human trafficking, illegal magical items, contraband substances.
4. Hidden iron mine: The mine wasn't depleted at all. The late Baron had been secretly operating it with slave labour, selling the ore through underground channels, and pocketing profits that should have gone to the crown.
5. Undocumented villages: An entire village's worth of people—maybe eight hundred residents—had been hidden from the census. They worked the secret sections of the mine and the port, essentially slaves in all but name.
The tax situation was worse than I'd calculated. Kingdom law required every baron to pay 3,000 gold coins annually to the crown, plus 10% of all collected taxes. With my promised tax reduction, my legitimate income would drop from around 8,000 gold coins annually to about 1,000.
But the mana cure would generate far more. Twenty thousand per bottle, one thousand bottles monthly once production scaled... that was 20 million gold coins in gross monthly revenue. Even after Olivia's commission and production costs, I'd net around 17 million monthly.
17 million per month versus 1,000 per year from taxes. The comparison was almost absurd.
Suddenly, the black cat materialized on my desk, making me jump slightly. I still wasn't used to the system's random appearances.
"Hello, Boss!" it said cheerfully. "I see you've been busy!"
"System," I acknowledged. "I need to unlock the storage function. How much?"
"Thirty thousand gold coins!" The cat's tail swished happily. "It's a very useful function! Unlimited storage capacity, completely secure, accessible only by you!"
I stared at it. "You said ten thousand before."
"That was for basic storage!" the cat protested. "This is premium storage with advanced security features and—"
"You're robbing me."
"I'm providing valuable services, Boss! And besides, you can afford it now with all that mana cure money coming in!"
I glared but pulled out my current reserves. 5,500 gold coins from the Count's payment and the barony's treasury. Not nearly enough.
"I'll unlock it once I have the funds," I muttered. "What else?"
"Oh! I should mention—the potion shop function has been updated!" The cat gestured, and a new interface window appeared. "Since you've invented the mana reflux cure in this world, the system can now produce it! Isn't that convenient?"
I felt my eye twitch. "You couldn't have told me this BEFORE I spent weeks developing the formula from scratch?"
"The function only activates after someone invents something new, Boss! That's the rule! Once any person anywhere in the world creates something, the system can replicate it! Very fair system!"
"Fair," I repeated flatly. "Right."
I forced myself to calm down. Yelling at the system was pointless—it operated on rules I didn't fully understand and couldn't change. Better to focus on what I could control.
"Fine. Show me the other system functions."
The interface expanded, revealing options I hadn't noticed before:
1. Territory Management: Track population, resources, development projects
2. Skill Shop: Purchase abilities and techniques
3. Item Shop: Buy equipment, materials, consumables
4. Potion Crafting: Create potions from learned formulas
5. Quest Log: [Locked – Level 10 Required]
Interesting. The quest function was locked, which meant the system did have level-gating on certain features. I'd need to reach level 10 to access it.
I dismissed the interface and returned to the documents. There was too much to do, too many priorities competing for attention. I needed to organize.
I pulled out fresh parchment and began making lists:
IMMEDIATE PRIORITIES:
1. Public execution – establish authority
2. Recruit 50 discrete workers for mana cure production
3. Begin documenting real population and resources
4. Establish proper territorial administration
Unlock system storage (need 24,500 more gold coins). Before that should I use system function to buy potion or should I use workers?.
After a deep thinking of it, I decided to use system function to buy potion. It would help me to produce quickly and also noone could betray me.
SHORT-TERM (1-2 months):
1. Develop additional revenue streams
2. Build up military forces
3. Investigate neighboring territories
4. Locate and recruit Robert and Benjamin first
5. Clear Monster problems
6. Modernize infrastructure
7. Develop manufacturing industries
8. Establish proper legal and justice systems
9. Prepare for civil war fallout
10. Position for post-war power grab
The plans spread across my desk like a map of ambitions. Each item represented challenges, risks, opportunities. The scope was daunting.
But I'd built a criminal empire from nothing in my previous life. I'd started with nothing but rage and determination, and I'd ended up controlling an organization that spanned entire cities.
This? This was just a different kind of empire. And I had advantages I'd never had before—magic, a system that granted abilities, foreknowledge of future events.
I could do this.
I would do this.
The pieces were falling into place. Now I just needed to survive long enough to see the game through.
Tomorrow would bring blood and spectacle. The public execution would be theatre—brutal, necessary theatre designed to reshape this territory's social structure in a single morning.
But tonight, I had work to do.
I called for Cecil and began planning security arrangements for the execution. Then I reviewed the documents on Benjamin's group, making notes on how to best utilize their skills. Then I drafted recruitment notices for the workers I'd need.
By the time exhaustion forced me to stop, midnight had long since passed.
I fell asleep at my desk, surrounded by papers and plans, dreaming of empires built on cures and coins and calculated violence.
Tomorrow, the real work would begin.