Chapter 70: Congratulations

It was noisy outside.

"Lord Ian has become the new lord!"

"Congratulations, Lord Ian!"

"Congratulations, you know! Thousand Ear Clan! Let's have a drink instead of arguing."

"Well, I guess we have to call you Baron from now on. Haha!"

As the news of Ian's appointment as lord spread quickly, the people of the territory rushed over. The atmosphere instantly turned festive, and the night grew long. Ian stood by the window, watching the scene with a faint smile.

Chiellonia had to leave without having a deep conversation with Mollin. They only exchanged meaningful glances, a silent understanding of their shared years.

"Damn it!"

While everyone, including Ian, was rejoicing, Romandrom couldn't help but frown as he poured himself some wine. With a pop, he shook the bottle.

"I can understand him being made a baron. Given the size of the territory, he's probably too small for a viscount, but a baron seems a bit too much."

Moreover, in practice, the border region already had most of the rights of a baron. It was a class just below the dukes and marquises of the royal family, the minimum threshold for recognizing autonomy.

"Baron of the border, what a strange title."

"Moreover, 10,000 gold coins within a year? If Brats' tax reports were ever seen, such a calculation would be impossible."

He knew that, of course.

While the emperor's intentions were unclear, the one who first suggested this likely anticipated a failure in repayment.

And that... was probably Gale.

"Doesn't the annual tax from Brats amount to 10,000? And now another 10,000! How can he ask for double the tax in such a situation? His Majesty is truly heartless, doesn't he realize there are people in the Brats territory before any rivalry?"

Romandrom vented his frustration. He also looked at Ian with pity. The people outside didn't know, but this was like being destined to fall into slavery after enjoying a sweet year.

At least he could strut around as a lord!

Not only that, but when he goes up for the appointment ceremony, he will also have to register as a mana user and undergo management as a mage.

"Maybe a few months? The time to live comfortably in the territory."

"Only that much time is left until the New Year."

"No! What are a few months? We're working our butts off to rebuild the territory! I don't know if we can even play for a month after the snow falls!"

"Why are you so worked up, Romandrom?"

Ian filled his wine glass, trying to calm him down.

"Anyway, I've achieved my goal of becoming the lord here. We should enjoy when it's time to enjoy."

Bang!

"Ian!"

At that moment, Beric burst in, shouting. It was hard to tell if his flushed face was from excitement or alcohol. He pushed past a few Thousand Ear Clan members and entered.

"Pig! Let's catch a pig!"

"Ian won't allow it, Beric!"

"Ah, come on! Just asking!"

"Sure. It's the mood. Go ahead."

"Yay! Look at this! It's a great day!"

Clatter!

As Beric shouted and ran out, Kakantir and Nersarn appeared. They approached Ian with bright smiles.

"Congratulations, Sir Ian."

"Thank you. It's all thanks to the Thousand Ear Clan."

"Ah, it's really good."

"Unexpected?"

"Yes. If I must say, it is. Hahaha!"

It was a day when they confirmed that pushing Ian and stepping aside for him was the perfect choice. Now they would be treated as allies, not just border barbarians, and achieve economic and cultural growth befitting that status. After all, this place was practically a gateway to Varyel.

"Can I see the emperor's letter?"

"Of course."

Ian unfolded the robe given by Chiellonia, revealing the current emperor's name, Clay Berosion, neatly written at the bottom.

'I don't know much about him.'

Ian had mulled over the name of the previous emperor many times, but no particularly significant information came to mind. It was an era of chaos. Many emperors had come and gone over a century, so it was natural. Ian himself had only served for three years before stepping down.

"Hmm?"

"Why?"

"Nothing."

What caught Ian's attention was the emperor's seal. It was subtly different in size from the one he usually used. He thought it might be an illusion, but the more he touched it with his fingertips, the more vivid the difference became.

The seal he used every day.

Ian could vividly recall it even with his eyes closed, so this subtle difference was very unsettling.

'Is the seal different?'

But that couldn't be. The emperor's seal had been passed down for over a thousand years since the founding of the kingdom. He had never heard of it being lost, and even if it had been...

'I would have known.'

Ian couldn't shake off his suspicion and continued to examine the seal. The more he did, the more his confidence and doubts surged.

The conclusion was one.

The seal had been changed at some point.

But why? What event could have caused this?

Romandrom, watching from the side, chimed in.

"It must be worn out."

"Is something wrong?"

"Well, you see. Now that you're a baron, I, um, have to change the way I address you..."

Romandrom glanced at Kakantir, mumbling. He hadn't realized it until he saw an outsider, but Baron Ian was clearly in a higher position than Romandrom.

"It's not official yet, so feel free to be casual."

"Is, is that okay?"

"Of course. You don't have a surname, do you?"

"Haha! I hope winter comes soon. I never thought I'd be able to go to the capital before the New Year's celebration. I need to write a letter to my wife."

Romandrom's voice was excited just thinking about it. He had barely managed to survive the year, so it was natural to be happy that his mission was ending. Kakantir also expressed his intention to return.

"We plan to gradually reduce the number of Thousand Ear Clan warriors. It's getting colder, and the warriors miss the Great Desert."

"Oh, you're leaving."

"I will leave soon, and Nersarn will stay here and return later."

But it seemed they hadn't agreed on this beforehand. Nersarn, standing behind, looked like he was about to faint from shock. They were particularly weak against the cold, so the 'snow' season must have been a significant concern for them.

"By the way, Ian. Since you received the letter of appointment, shouldn't you inform the neighboring territories?"

Neighboring territories. Ian looked at Kakantir at Romandrom's words. The closest one was here.

And the next...

"Ah, right."

The only one left was Merelop. He had sent a letter of protest regarding the assassination attempt, but received no response. It was a complete and utter disregard.

"I need to write a letter to Merelop. Now that I've officially received the letter of appointment, I can expect a reply this time."

* * *

"What? He received a title?"

"The letter just arrived."

Merelop almost snatched the letter from the butler's hand. He read the handwritten letter, which stated that Ian would be formally appointed at the end of the year and would be ennobled as a baron. At the bottom, there was a fake thank-you note: "Thanks to the esteemed Count Merelop."

"Damn. The world is coming to an end. A lowborn from a brothel is now parading around as a noble."

"We need to send a congratulatory reply, but the response to the previous letter is still pending. What should we do?"

The butler was referring to the news of Ian's attack, which had been sent in Romandrom's name. At the time, Merelop had only snorted. If Ian had sent it directly, he would have immediately retaliated, demanding to know why his people were killed. But since it was from Romandrom, he couldn't bring himself to do so and simply ignored it.

"Why bother? Just tell the servants to pass the message. Paper and ink are too precious."

"Yes, my lord."

He was thoroughly arrogant. Even if Ian was officially ennobled, he should still be treated as a neighboring territory. They were rivals, but in the border region, they ultimately relied on each other when something happened.

The butler had no choice but to think about writing the letter himself. As Merelop threw the letter aside and continued reading documents, preparing for the winter, his wife was fanning herself at the end of the room, signaling him to come over.

"Lady, what is it?"

"Didn't a letter come from Brats?"

"Yes. It was news that Sir Ian has been officially appointed as a baron."

"Oh."

The lady let out a small exclamation of surprise.

"What did the count say?"

"What...?"

"About the reply."

The butler was at a loss for words. He had planned to write it himself. The countess, sensing his dilemma, smiled and nodded.

"Please do your best. And separately, I think we should send a gift. Open the exclusive item storage."

"The count's permission..."

The countess quickly folded her fan. Her playful smile instantly turned serious.

"I'm on my way to get it."

"Not necessarily, Lady."

The butler hurried to stop her. After all, the count had already given up on writing a reply. He couldn't risk getting into trouble over a gift for him. But the lady firmly dismissed the butler.

Smack!

"That's what needs to be done."

Leaving those meaningful words, she entered the study.