I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 29 Viscount Revion (2)

“Is this a success?”

Jeron scrutinized every change in Viscount Revion’s expressions closely. His secret to surviving in a world filled with countless survivors and threats had always been his acute ability to pick up on the psychological changes of others.

In a world ravaged by disaster, losing one’s life to other survivors was all too common. Missteps could lead to losing everything, so understanding the thoughts of others was key to survival.

Compared to the worn-out survivors, the expressions of the nobles of this era were relatively easy to read. This was true even for the political heavyweight, the leader of the crown prince’s faction, Duke Langton. A mere viscount from the outskirts could not deceive Jeron’s eyes.

Viscount Revion’s jowls quivered, and his eyes widened then narrowed—a transition from surprise to greed. This brief display would have been hard for anyone else to catch, but not for Jeron.

“Ahem, do you guess why I have visited the Farrow domain?”

“I dare not presume to grasp your deep intentions. What would a young and inexperienced new lord like me know?”

“Ha-ha-ha! You truly are modest.”

Viscount Revion was clearly avoiding a direct answer, but how could Jeron not see this as baiting? Watching the viscount stroke his convulsing jaw was almost enough to make one frown. Yet, Jeron’s perfectly genuine salesman smile remained unwavering.

“Though our domains have bordered each other without much interaction, the fact remains we are neighbors. Despite belonging to different factions, I found it regrettable to have no dealings with each other. Hearing rumors in the capital about the initiative you proposed and that Duke Langton supports you, it seems likely that your trade rights will soon be approved.”

“I’m not holding much expectation…”

“Now, now, there’s such a thing as being too modest. How could you, the very person involved, not know what everyone else does? Acquiring those trade rights will require a significant fund since a hefty acquisition tax must be paid to the royal family.

Your domain handles materials essential for many military armaments, and giving priority in supply to me would mean I would purchase them at a higher price than the market rate. Thanks to a mineshaft discovered by my late father, our domain doesn’t lack for funds.”

“I may be late, but congratulations.”

“Ha-ha, much appreciated. Despite traditional animosities between our families, I thought this occasion might be an opportunity to cement a friendship. Why bother with factional disputes in such remote places? I believe your family’s heirloom could serve as a symbol of such friendship and trust.”

‘Look at this guy. Going round and round just to say he wants it.’

Jeron was incredulous but maintained his smile. At first, he wondered what nonsense the viscount would spout, but it turned out he was greedily eyeing the liquor bottle.

By the standards of this era, its visuals alone were mesmerizing. The liquor inside, Cheonnyang X-treme, was something even 21st-century Earthlings hesitated to drink, its mystique enhanced by the bottle’s enigmatic aura.

A few bottles of this legendary liquor could easily untangle stagnant political issues. While merely a fine spirit to commoners, to the nobility, it transformed into a formidable weapon.

Jeron was not to be outdone in banter, thus adeptly repackaging his response.

“Viscount, I agree wholeheartedly. There’s no need to perpetuate ill will into our generation. Focusing on the future is truly the stance of a noble. To forge new bonds and friendship, a significant symbol is indeed necessary. I see the legendary liquor as fitting of such value. Friendship should be based on trust and mutually beneficial relationships to last. While I can offer the renowned liquor passed down from my ancestors, a one-sided relationship would not last. Therefore…”

Viscount Revion’s adam’s apple quivered visibly along with his flesh. For Jeron, dealing with such a poorly self-managed person was a nuisance, but fleecing a mark warranted endless smiles.

“If you clear the past between us, why would liquor be an issue? I shall continue to show goodwill in the future.”

“The past, you say… How many issues have there been between the Farrow and Revion families? Speak freely. If there’s a past to be resolved, I’m all ears.”

“The Ravilla Plains along our domains’ border were once Farrow land. There’s been a misunderstanding, and you’ve occupied it momentarily. Returning that land would serve as a proper symbol of trust. Moreover, sending about a thousand slaves would ensure no hard feelings moving forward.”

“Hmm!”

For a moment, Viscount Revion’s face contorted. Wrapped up in all sorts of nonsense—talk of friendship symbols, the past, neighbors—what he meant was selling the liquor.Land and Slaves.

In the ancient dominion, power stemmed from population. While slaves were treated as property, their significant numbers were undeniable. And the territory?

The Ravilla Plains were a wasteland, but it seemed a shame to give them up. A myriad of expressions crossed the Viscount’s face. A mix of anger and anticipation, greed, disappointment, and agony.

Shouldn’t a noble be able to control his emotions and expressions? By that standard, the Viscount was a disgrace to nobility.

Nearly five minutes must have passed. At last, the Viscount managed to catch his breath.

“Isn’t that a bit excessive?”

“I’ll give you three bottles.”

“…!”

A quake shook the Viscount’s eyes once more. Three bottles of such liquor?

“I will give it some thought! It won’t take long. Can I give you an answer before today is over?”

“Of course. It doesn’t matter if it takes longer.”

“Let’s drink once more, for the sake of our friendship.”

“Indeed.”

Clink!

Glasses collided in mid-air. The Viscount hurried out of the office. Jeron decided to wait leisurely. Being reincarnated in the medieval era, he realized that everything in this age took time.

Society was rigid, and the nature of nobility was to resist change, making success rare, no matter how hard one worked. Most tasks were carried out at a snail’s pace in such a world.

Jeron was even surprised when the Viscount set a deadline of less than a day, expecting such a critical matter to take at least a week to deliberate. Jeron called for Sir Jenald.

The loyal Sir Jenald knelt on one knee and paid his respects as soon as he saw Jeron.

“Milord.”

“Sir Jenald, as you’ve seen, the Viscount visited and has left after our conversation. What is he doing now?”

“As per your words, milord, he is inspecting the domain. Notably, he seems to be lost in thought while keeping a distance from the barracks.”

“Is that so?”

“It seems he may have intentions towards our domain, milord.”

“Well, that would be the case.”

“Had you anticipated this, milord?”

“From the moment that man was exposed to our realm’s innovations, this became inevitable. It might take some time, but it will eventually lead to a territorial conflict.”

Sir Jenald simply bowed his head and listened to Jeron’s words.

“I don’t entertain the thought of us losing should it come to a territorial conflict. On the contrary, I welcome it. We have loyal knights to secure our victory.”

“Your orders are wise, milord.”

Jeron had anticipated this from the moment he saw that greedy gleam in his eyes.

During his time on a doomed Earth, Jeron had seen such a look in the eyes of survivors countless times.At first, everything started off well, but the moment greed distorted their expressions, trouble was inevitable.

Jeron read the gaze of a plunderer in the Viscount. Although he doubted the Viscount would act on the spot, he was certain that eventually, he would seize the opportunity to stir up a conflict over the estate.

As the estate began to develop and funds were circulated, it was natural for flies to swarm. For Jeron, it was more advantageous to deal with these nuisances before stronger forces took notice, thereby strengthening his own power.

If a conflict over the estate was going to happen regardless, he might as well hasten its arrival.

“Knight, it seems we must trouble you to exert some effort.”

“Command me, and it shall be done.”

“Make our army appear as foolish as possible. Just for today, our forces must seem weak, cowardly, and corrupt. Convey this to Sir James and Sir Garcia as well. Think of today as a holiday for everyone.”

“I shall follow the lord’s command with honor.”

***

Viscount Revion, accompanied by his retainers, was traversing his meticulously maintained estate. Due to his excessively large figure, he could not move on his own and was instead carried in a specially made palanquin by his bearers.

Despite the bearers sweating profusely in the midsummer heat, their plight was of no concern to Viscount Revion. His attention was wholly fixed on the appetizing estate before him.

‘The whole estate is being tidied up. Walls are being erected higher, and infrastructure such as roads and waterways are being expanded upon.’

Such tasks were rarely undertaken by lords of this era. However, no noble could be ignorant of the benefits of a well-organized estate and solid infrastructure. They simply did not wish to expend money and effort on what they deemed unproductive.

The estate indeed looked more appealing once it was neatly arranged. And what of the actions of the estate’s people? They were focused on their labor as if chanting some strange incantation. By now, the viscount found the estate even more tantalizing.

He considered the nature of these people to be different from those in his own estate.

‘Currently, Jeron Farrow is selling off all sorts of treasures inherited from his ancestors, aiming to make his stand with this generation.’

This was mentioned in a letter from Duke Raion. It seemed unlikely that a figure like Duke Langton would be moved merely by money. Rather, it appeared he had gifted family heirlooms to establish connections.

Farrow, though merely a baronet, belonged to a noble family with a long history and was among those credited with founding the nation.

At one point, the Farrow household had been in the position now held by Count Hanes, enjoying prosperous times. Now, they intended to release all the treasures accumulated during those prosperous times.

The pinnacle of evidence was an indeterminably aged fine silk. Having tasted what seemed like a thousand-year-old liquor, all other drinks he had experienced paled in comparison.

Its political value was immeasurable. The family had not hesitated to distribute such tools to even mere farmers. While Viscount Revion was deep in thought, Sir Asti, who had gone to secretly inspect the barracks, came rushing back.

“Milord! I bring a report!”

“Well, what is the situation in the barracks?”

“It was complete chaos, milord. Discipline was nonexistent, the soldiers were weak and cowardly.”

“Hmm? Had we neglected the barracks while focusing on internal affairs?”

“It’s hard to believe they share the knightly title. Soldiers and citizens were bribed, and the acquired money was squandered on gambling. It was a sight that naturally furrowed one’s brow in disdain.”

“Ah, that Farrow baronet, boasting so much, yet neglecting the most crucial aspect of managing his troops?”

Hearing this, the viscount’s greed was fanned into a full blaze. In his mind, he vividly imagined seizing all of Farrow household’s treasures and dramatically expanding his territory to soar to new heights.