CHAPTER 126: CHAPTER 126: BUSINESS_1

"Who’s the bad guy here!" The Mayor, already enraged, found his authority among the townsfolk threatened by the merchant caravan’s exposure of the sheriff’s dealings, shaking the very foundation of his rule.

Having found Lance’s group unexpectedly tough, the sheriff’s timely appearance offered the Mayor a convenient scapegoat, allowing him to vent his anger by making an example of the lawman.

"This is all your doing, you sheriffs! Now, you’re fired. Get out of town!"

The sheriff was taken aback for a moment, clearly not expecting to be dismissed. He had served the town faithfully for over a decade, and now...

"What are you looking at? Are the taxes too low this month, or is the rent too cheap?"

After shifting the blame, the Mayor immediately turned on the crowd. Unsurprisingly, his words struck fear into the townspeople, who scattered, eager to avoid being implicated.

Seeing this, the Mayor flashed a smug grin, baring his yellow teeth at Lance to flaunt his authority—a clear sign that this town was still under his control.

Lance observed all of this. While he seemed outwardly calm, he had already sentenced this man to death in his heart.

This was his territory, these were his people, and the tax revenue was rightfully his.

Yet here was this man, strutting before him, clearly courting death.

However, Lance maintained his composure instead of lashing out.

Getting angry with a man already dead in his eyes was pointless, especially when he still had his uses.

With that thought, Lance’s expression changed instantly. A smile touched his lips as he gestured and said:

"I have a big business opportunity here – are you interested in hearing about it?"

Seeing Lance’s reaction, the Mayor thought he had backed down. Enticed by the prospect of business, he also calmed down.

"What kind of business?"

"A lucrative one, of course."

Lance spoke with him briefly. There were three large farms in town. None dominated the others, but the major croplands were under their respective control.

Of course, what Lance wanted to talk about was grain.

There wasn’t much to be had from individual farmers; to truly grow his business, he had to deal with the crops from these farm owners.

Normally, they would have their own trade channels, but with the recent trouble at the port in Hamlet preventing sea access, the traffic of merchant caravans had significantly decreased.

Combined with natural disasters causing bandit problems, weaker merchant groups lacked the strength to venture to such remote places. Even if they did, they wouldn’t buy something like grain, which didn’t turn much profit.

These multiple factors caused an even greater surplus of grain here.

And since no single farm could dictate prices, the competitive bidding among them had actually driven grain prices down.

Lance had already gathered a general understanding of the situation from their earlier casual conversation. He intended to acquire all the grain produced by this town, and he wouldn’t turn down livestock either.

The Mayor himself owned a considerable amount of land and Serfs. With the outside world in chaos, their small town could manage self-preservation, but venturing out to trade was exceedingly difficult; travel expenses alone cost more than the grain.

Now, having a merchant caravan willing to discuss trade was a welcome opportunity for the small town, and for him personally.

"Alright, I’ll go invite the heads of the three farmsteads now."

The Mayor’s previous anger vanished, replaced by a surprising enthusiasm. It was clear that he was willing to be agreeable when profit was dangled before him.

Lance told his soldiers to rest there and then went to find the sheriff.

The man looked utterly dejected, so much so that even his dog seemed affected by his mood, its head hanging low.

"You’ve always wanted to know who I am, haven’t you? Then come with me," Lance said.

With that, Lance called Reynard, and the two of them started walking towards a back street. The sheriff hesitated for a moment, then quickly followed.

After returning the previous night, Reynard had learned what had happened in town. He and his companion were still shaken by the monster their Lord had encountered. They both felt a sense of dereliction for letting their Lord face it alone. They were relieved that nothing serious had happened; otherwise, how could they ever forgive themselves?

It was the same house, only this time no woman stood outside the door.

Pushing the door open, they entered, and the group came face to face.

"Alright, now I’ll tell you," Lance began. "I am the Earl of the Empire’s frontier, the Lord of Hamlet. This is my land, and you are my subjects. So, you understand now why I must protect you, why I had to remove the bandits and Heretics, don’t you?"

Lance wasn’t in the habit of beating around the bush; if the situation was appropriate, he stated things plainly.

This revelation greatly shocked the sheriff and the woman. Having been raised in such a remote and impoverished place, they were unclear about Hamlet’s former glory. They never imagined that the man before them was the Lord of the Empire’s frontier.

However, the sheriff, being somewhat more worldly, immediately voiced his doubts.

"But it has been many years since the town has had a Lord, and the tax collectors come from a nearby city."

"This has to do with Hamlet and the evil cult," Lance explained. "Years ago, the evil cult collaborated with the Butler to control the previous Lord. They killed his loyal nobles. Then, the Butler issued false orders to seize control of the domain. This led to its gradual decay and the loss of most of its territories. By the time I inherited it, few people remembered Hamlet’s past glory."

Lance recounted the past briefly, but his low tone soon became impassioned again.

"Since I took over Hamlet, I have thwarted the evil cult’s plots and eliminated the bandits. Now, I have many talented people under my command, and the domain is thriving. Recovering all lost territories and reviving Hamlet’s might is only a matter of time!"

His tone then suddenly shifted, and he added with an expression of heartfelt anguish:

"Currently, the domain still suffers from the evil cult’s encroachments, and incompetent, greedy Bureaucrats continue to oppress my people. All of this pains me deeply. I hope to gain your support. Join us! Fight for the revival of Hamlet!"

These words were bewildering, not just to the widow who had never left the small town, but even to the sheriff. Their worldview was confined to this small town, making it difficult for them to grasp why Lance was telling them all this.

"But I can’t do anything..." the woman responded timidly.

Honestly, ever since she learned Lance was a Noble Lord, she had become exceedingly timid, terrified that he would hold her accountable for what happened the previous night.

"Don’t be afraid. I don’t need you to do anything specific," Lance said, noticing her anxiety. He didn’t press the matter but instead stepped closer to reassure her.

"Do you know? In my domain, an able-bodied adult can support a child on their own through their labor. They don’t need to sell their body and suffer humiliation to survive, as you do now.

So come back. Become my subject again. Return to my protection."

"My Lord!" The woman, deeply moved by Lance’s powerful charisma, burst into tears and agreed on the spot.

"Good." Lance stepped forward and gently embraced the woman. "Life will get better."