Chapter 1: Granting of Title

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All settings and plots in this book are purely fictional, take place in a wholly imaginary world, and bear no relation to reality; every character that appears is already an adult.

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“…Lacking love, humility, and respect; violent, savage, and reckless; suspected of theft and of harassing respectable women; devoid of the virtues and cultivation a noble ought to possess. After deliberation by the Council, We hereby revoke your former reward, strip you of your Count title, confer upon you the lower rank of Baron, and, by decision of the Noble Council, relocate your fief to Bichi Village in the East Mead region.”

After reading the proclamation, the crown-wearing King looked at the figure half-kneeling below and asked, “Baron Jago, do you accept the decision of the Noble Council and Us?”

“I accept, Your Majesty.”

As soon as the man named Farra Jago replied, the many noble representatives seated above immediately revealed unrestrained mocking smiles.

“Then receive the decree! In light of your ability, We grant you leave to establish your own domain without an overlord and answer directly to Us; do you have any objection?”

“…I have no objection, Your Majesty.”

He can accept even this?

A flash of surprise crossed the King’s eyes.

Having no superior liege meant receiving no protection whatsoever. Even if he died in some remote backwater, it would serve him right. No aid would be forthcoming.

The King had thought Farra would at least protest and struggle a little. Yet he showed not the slightest intention of resistance.

…Though resisting would not have helped anyway. What the Council had decided would not be changed!

“Then set out at once for your fief!”

When the guard brought the iron token symbolizing the rank of Low Baron before him, Farra rose, accepted it, bowed once more, and turned to leave.

As he walked away, the jeering behind him grew even less restrained and drifted into Farra’s ears.

“What is he, a mere serf by birth, yet he dares accept ennoblement?”

“So he has a bit of brute strength… does that qualify him to sit with us?”

“Even granting him the title of Low Baron disgraces our nobility!”

“A man like that deserves no place in the prosperous Relwo; he belongs in far-flung East Mead!”

“Hahahahahahahahahaha…”

“…”

In the Nosbaro Kingdom, serfs held the lowest status and had no right to pursue any office. Even if they earned military merit by enlisting, the most they could gain was restoration to the status of a freeman. No matter how unprecedentedly great their exploits, they could never pass the scrutiny of the high council of nobles. The lords would find every excuse to keep you outside the gate.

Having transmigrated to this blasted land 19 years ago, Farra was not particularly surprised by this.

Staring at the iron identity plaque in his hand, he left the royal palace; as the mockery faded behind him, the mechanical voice in his mind grew ever clearer.

『Faction bound… Jago Barony』

『Enemies killed after the faction declares war will be counted as Host kills』

『Kill requirement updated』

『Kill 100 enemies to gain 1 Attribute point』

『Retainer System activated, current slots: 1』

『Faction Management Panel activated』

『Resource points unlocked』

『Kill 100 enemies to obtain 1 Resource point』

“System, what are resource points for?” Farra asked in his mind as he casually hung the identity plaque at his waist.

『Resource points can raise the grade of a Resource Site; once its grade increases, the site’s output increases accordingly.』

“Increase output… ? Even if reserves are insufficient, can output really be forced up?”

『Yes.』

“…”

So wouldn’t that function exactly like a conceptual ability?

Farra froze for an instant, then let a faint smile appear.

“Interesting.”

After pondering for a moment, Farra asked again in his mind, “Then, are there mandatory requirements for selecting a war target?”

『None.』

“Any species requirements?”

『None.』

“What are the conditions for declaring war?”

『You must specify the war target.』

“May I declare war on unintelligent, primitive beastmen?”

『You may.』

“Then… may I declare war on unintelligent cattle and sheep?”

『You may.』

“Ho… this is getting interesting.” The curve of Farra’s lips widened slightly as he went on, “Then, can I declare war on insects?”

『You may.』

“Can I declare war on trees?”

『You may not.』

Farra asked no further questions.

Beyond the splendid royal palace lay the bustling, prosperous streets of Jestanis. People bustled back and forth, and every kind of shop could be found.

There were luxurious places… jewelry stores, gem shops, high-end clothiers… and more down-to-earth stalls selling fruit, meat, kitchen knives, shoes, tableware, and the like.

Standing here gave one the illusion that, with money, anything could be bought.

What Farra wanted was not on the main street.

He had to wind through several alleys, leave the palace-centered heart of the capital, reach the outskirts of Jestanis, duck into a narrow lane, and knock three times on a wooden door bearing the sign “Temporarily Closed.”

After a moment, the door was pulled open from within.

A hulking, man appeared in the doorway, his beast-like eyes locking onto Farra as he barked, “What do you want?!”

“Enough, spare me that act.” Farra shook the plaque at his waist. “Low Baron, Farra. Let me in.”

“…This way, please.” The big man stared at Farra for two more seconds, then abruptly stepped aside and spoke respectfully.

Farra stepped inside, and the wooden door slammed shut behind him.

The entire front hall was pitch-black.

“This way, please.”

As heavy footsteps sounded, the big man’s voice came from the darkness.

“Mm.”

Farra grunted in reply, followed him to a staircase, and headed down.

After descending roughly five levels, they finally reached solid ground.

Ahead stretched a long subterranean corridor; lamps on the walls were not oil or electric but rather some luminous stone whose brightness was more than adequate.

Passing through the hallway, Farra entered an even more spacious underground chamber.

A heavy iron door separated it from yet another scene entirely.

“Oh my, a customer, is it?”

A sharp-eyed old man shuffled up to Farra and asked with a smile, “What might the customer require?”

“What else would I come here for? I need slaves.”

“Then the customer should know our rule: we don’t sell singles.”

“I know.”

“What kind of slaves do you need, and how many?”

Acting as a guide, the old man asked while leading him along.

The spacious area was filled with cages.

Inside each cage crouched a humanoid creature.

Yet not all of them were human.

“For heavy manual labor I’ll need…”

Farra calculated the savings he had accumulated over the years and then said, “Let’s start with 300.”

“Three hundred?” Hearing that, the old man realized this was big business, and his smile deepened. “This way, sir. For heavy work, these beast-man slaves are ideal! They’re naturally strong and eat very little.”

“Strength and appetite are directly proportional,” Farra reminded him with a sidelong glance.

He was not dispensing common knowledge so much as warning the man to stop spouting that marketing drivel.

Eat little, work hard, strong, and loyal…

Utter nonsense.

“Ahem, my apologies, the words slipped out. So, beast-man slaves… what does the customer think?”

“There are far too many breeds of beast-men. I only need them to fell trees and farm.”

“In that case, these will do nicely… canine beast-men, strong enough yet not overly powerful, easy to manage.”

“Fine.”

Farra gave the lot a casual glance and nodded.

Slaves here cost a bit less than through official channels.

It was effectively a wholesaler… but for various reasons, it had to stay in the shadows.

There was certainly risk, yet to Farra, whose fief was tantamount to exile… to hell with risk.

After they finalized the order, specifying his requirements, the means of transport, and the destination, Farra used the time while the old man ran errands to idly scan the slaves in the cages.

Fortunately he had saved some money over the years; otherwise, starting entirely from scratch once he reached his fief would have been far too hard.

As Farra’s gaze swept about, system pop-ups showing the basic data of each target kept appearing before his eyes.

This was the retainer-related skill unlocked after receiving a territory… Information Probe.

It allowed him to judge whether a target was suitable to become a retainer.

Retainer slots were extremely precious, and at present Farra had only one.

Unlocking additional slots required spending Attribute points.

Ten Attribute points unlocked one slot.

After reaching 10 slots, each further slot cost 30 Attribute points.

It was painfully expensive.

Though the benefits were obvious.

Farra walked deeper in, yet none of the information panels in his sight showed anything remotely special.

“…Seems hoping to pick up a bargain really is too… hmm?”

After passing a certain cage, Farra took two steps back to look again and confirm.

Individual data:

Strength: 5 (average adult male: 10)

Agility: 6

Constitution: 4

Spirit: 7

Mana: 99

“Pssh…”

Farra drew a soft breath and glanced at his own panel.

Strength: 21

Agility: 20

Constitution: 20

Spirit: 21

Mana: 1 『locked』

For most people… indeed, for 99% of humanity… Mana looked exactly like that.

Farra had never seen an exception.

Legend claimed that elves could use magic, but he had never seen an elf and had no way to verify it.

Second came witches… yet he had never met a witch either, so he could not confirm that.

This was the first time he had ever encountered such an anomaly.