In the days that followed, Ron continued frequenting the study as usual. In the endless years ahead, he would live on indefinitely—and remaining ignorant of the world he had to govern was not an option.
Books, naturally, were the best way to gain clarity.
Since arriving in this world, Ron had noticed that the variety of food was extremely limited, and the taste was oddly bland—almost as if no salt was used at all. Though he was curious, he couldn't simply walk up to the Head Chef and ask whether salt existed in this world. Wouldn't that seem suspicious?
This was also one of the reasons he devoted so much time to reading. There were countless aspects of daily life he needed to understand before planning out a future worthy of immortality. What was the point of living forever if he couldn't enjoy good food or if every day was spent in unbearable boredom?
Ron refused to accept such a fate.
A few days ago, the former Baron and Baroness had been laid to rest. Ron attended their funeral with a complicated heart. Perhaps, in a way, the Arnold bloodline had already ended with him.
Now, a new challenge awaited him.
Although Ron had naturally inherited the Baron title, the process still involved certain official procedures. Egbert could handle most of them, but according to tradition, Ron himself had to travel to the Royal Capital of Caro within three months to receive the King's certification of legitimacy.
For someone who had never stepped foot outside the Baron's Manor in 15 years, this was an intimidating prospect.
But then Ron remembered—he was immortal. What was there to fear? Once Egbert completed the documents, he would head to the Royal Capital and experience its famed "openness" that Irene mentioned so often.
While working in the study, Ron carefully tackled the simpler tasks Egbert assigned him. These were meant to help him adapt gradually. One day, all responsibilities of the territory would fall onto his shoulders.
Ron picked up a document and read it attentively:
"March 13th, Asam Village (west of the territory): Suspected beast attack caused house collapses, 5 deaths, 3 severe injuries, and 37 minor injuries. Majority of villagers are elderly or young children unable to work."
Ron frowned deeply. It was at that moment he truly understood the weight of being a lord.
These reports might look ordinary on paper, but the consequences were anything but trivial. If left unresolved, the people would suffer, starve, and die.
Aid had to be sent. But how? What kind? How much?
Ron had no idea.
He set that report aside and picked another:
"February 21st: A thieves' group named 'Black Crow,' numbering 7–14, appeared in the territory. Their movements are erratic, and dozens of households have already fallen victim."
Ron's face darkened.
This was last month. And they still haven't caught them?
He skimmed through the pile of documents—mundane issues, disasters, lawlessness. His head throbbed.
"So many problems… and these are only the non-urgent ones Egbert gave me. What do the urgent ones look like?"
Just as he leaned back, overwhelmed, a knock sounded.
Irene stepped in. "Young Master, Mister Egbert requests your presence. He says Uncle Abel has caught… Elva."
Ron blinked.
Caught? What happened now?
—
In the hall, a disheveled Elva knelt on the ground, hands tied behind her back, guarded by four knights. Egbert, Abel, and the knights saluted as Ron arrived.
"Tell me," Ron ordered.
Egbert stepped forward, expression cold.
"It has been confirmed that Elva has, for over a decade, used the former Baroness's influence to act unchecked in the Manor. During this time, she gradually stole and sold off Manor belongings for personal profit."
Ron's brows twitched.
Egbert continued, "At first, she only took trifles. But even crumbs from nobles are valuable to commoners. Over time, she grew bolder—especially after the Lord and Baroness passed away."
Abel stepped forward angrily. "My Lord, such a traitor must be punished severely!"
Ron's gaze fell on Elva. She had often gone out—likely to sell stolen items. Recently, she had acted more openly than ever.
Was she preparing to flee? But why?
"Elva," Ron said quietly, "do you admit your guilt?"
Elva burst into noisy sobbing.
"My Lord, I am innocent! I have always served the Manor loyally—"
Ron didn't want to hear her lies.
He approached, stopping in front of her.
"Look up."
The command carried the natural authority of nobility. Elva obeyed despite trembling.
Ron placed a finger on her forehead.
A translucent character card appeared before him:
[Silver 1-Star]
[Elva]
[Affection: 20 (Resentment)]
[Trait: Petty Thievery (White) — When stealing, your actions attract less suspicion, reducing the likelihood of discovery.]
As expected. Her trait explained how she stole for over ten years without detection.
Ron withdrew his hand, expression unreadable.
"Abel."
"My Lord!"
"Take her away and interrogate her. Find out why she was trying to sell so many items recently."
"Yes, My Lord."
Elva was dragged away screaming.
—
Later, back in the study, Ron resumed reviewing documents—this time with Irene assisting, confused but obedient.
"Irene ," Ron asked, "how much aid should the Baron's Manor give to Assam Village?"
Irene panicked.
Her thoughts were written all over her face—If I say too much, he'll be angry. If I say too little, he'll also be angry.
Ron switched his line of questioning, patiently extracting from her information about commoner life, economy, and living costs—real, useful knowledge.
He learned her family ran a fruit shop in Cott Town. They were better off than most villagers, earning:
— 2 silver coins on a good day
— 60+ copper coins on a bad day
Meaning villagers likely earned only 2–5 copper coins a day.
The poverty was worse than he expected.
Before he could think further, a knock came.
"My Lord," Abel said as he entered, "the questioning is complete. Elva believed the Baron's Manor was declining and planned to make one last profit before fleeing to Viscount Gordon's territory."
Ron was unimpressed.
"Punish her according to Manor rules. Then expel her."
"Yes, My Lord."
"And retrieve all stolen money."
"Egbert has already done so."
"Good. You may leave."
—
Late that night, a battered Elva staggered out of the Manor, turning back with burning resentment in her eyes.
In the Manor hall, Egbert and Abel stood facing each other.
Egbert spoke first, cold and steady:
"Abel, send someone to watch her. If she behaves strangely, execute her immediately. We cannot allow any danger near the Lord."
Abel nodded. "Understood."
Even without strange behavior, he thought, I'll eliminate her anyway.
Protecting the Lord was his duty.
And Abel never failed in his duty.
_____________________
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