CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER 49: THE PROVINCIAL COUNCIL

Three days later, at the Governor’s Mansion in Northwind City, the nobles of Northwind Province finally gathered.

Yet... the number of attendees was pitiful.

In the past, the Northwind nobles made for lively company, but since the orc invasion, everything had changed.

The fallen were mourned—but the living still laughed and conversed as usual.

Ryan sat in the section assigned to Lingdu County, his eyes falling on the group of Counts and Viscounts exchanging polite chatter at the head of the hall. The man seated in the very center stirred a faint memory in Ryan’s mind...

More precisely, it was the insignia on the man’s staff—two vines entwined like a serpent.

He was Count Laksu of the Empire, master of the Flying Serpent and the Forest.

A powerful count with vast southern lands, it was said that the farmland his family had cultivated alone could feed millions with ease.

To the struggling nobles of Northwind, such prosperity was practically paradise.

After exchanging pleasantries with the surrounding counts, Count Laksu coughed twice, then rose to speak.

The grand chamber immediately fell into dead silence. All eyes turned to Laksu as he pulled out a snow-white silk scroll from his staff—its surface densely inscribed with writing.

"Since everyone is here, let’s get this over with quickly. Northwind is far too cold for my liking."

The Count’s tone carried thinly veiled contempt—yet no one dared object.

If they had a choice, they too would prefer the warmth of the south.

Still, his words left a sour taste.

"Starting this year, the Empire will revoke all special privileges for Northwind Province."

He spoke plainly. While the silk held a long passage describing the Empire’s historic support and expectations for Northwind, the Count summed it up bluntly.

"The annual subsidy of one million gold coins is canceled.

Furthermore, Northwind Province must now pay 1.5 million gold in annual imperial taxes."

"One and a half million?!"

Before the Count had even finished, a noble rose in furious protest. He was from Hanshan County, one of the few survivors of the orc onslaught—and the news left him shaken.

"Where in all of Northwind are we supposed to come up with that kind of money?!"

Count Laksu snorted, ignoring him. He turned instead to Viscount Landa, one of the seven regional governors of Northwind. It was obvious—the outburst had been orchestrated.

Indeed, 1.5 million gold, when divided among all nobles, was no small burden.

And Hanshan had suffered the worst damage—its nobles had no way to pay.

But they were clever: they had made it everyone’s problem.

Soon, voices rose across the chamber: complaints, appeals, declarations that even fifty thousand gold would be difficult, let alone 1.5 million.

But Laksu had no intention of humoring them.

"I’m merely informing you:

From now on, Northwind Province must pay its annual tax.

How you produce the funds is not the Empire’s concern."

"Besides, when the orcs invaded, only your province failed to hold the line.

Across the Empire, there are whispers now—people wondering if the Empire is... decaying."

"The Empire’s reputation has been sullied. You’ve made a grave error, and now you dare to haggle?"

Everything he said was true. In fact, the Empire had shown restraint—perhaps because it had half-abandoned Northwind already. The expected punishments never came.

Even Count Winter remained Governor.

But none of that could be said aloud. Every noble present understood that face, appearances, meant everything.

"Enough."

At last, Count Winter himself stood up.

"Northwind Province will not disappoint the Empire’s trust."

"Good," Count Laksu replied, nodding. He had come only to deliver news everyone already knew—this was merely duty, not gain.

What followed, however, did concern his interests.

"Since we’re all assembled, let’s move on to the second matter."

"Recently, in the southern Holy Mountain, the Empire and many great noble houses held talks with the Church. They plan to implement the Lordship system across all territories."

"This has not yet been finalized. The Empire wishes to hear from each province’s nobility."

After a brief explanation of the Lordship system, Count Laksu fell silent.

So did the room.

The chamber’s stillness became... unnerving.

At last, someone spoke:

"Opening new frontiers in the North? That would be wonderful."

A smiling baron spoke up. He had several sons—not worried about succession, but previously unsure what to do with the extras.

"Giving out noble titles to muddy-footed frontier warriors? I say just call them knights—why elevate them to nobility?"

"Still, they did carve out new lands... What would that say about our own ancestors if we dismiss them?"

"True, true. ’Lord’—has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?"

The old foxes began to chuckle, flattering each other and praising family crests like they were priceless treasures.

But not everyone was amused.

A noble seated near the edge stood up. He wore no family crest and looked both nervous and indignant.

"Count Laksu, what is the Empire’s position on pioneer nobles and frontier knights like us?"

Laksu answered calmly:

"Pioneer nobles established before this year, after land inspections, will be awarded formal baronies, provided the land meets standards.

If not, they will be recognized as Lords."

"As for frontier knights—those with land will be granted Lord status."

"But the Empire once promised that if our lands were big enough, we’d be made true nobles!"

Another knight leapt up, his leather armor peeking from beneath his robes—a disgrace in the eyes of the aristocrats.

What is he doing—lowering the decorum of our noble assembly?!

"Sir Qiu Lin, are you **questioning the Empire’s judgment?" Count Winter snapped coldly.

A wave of knightly pressure forced the man back into his seat.

"Yes, the Empire did make such a promise," Winter continued.

"But Lords are part of the nobility. Once you’re a Lord, no one can deny your status—if they do, they defy all mankind."

"So strictly speaking, the Empire has not broken its word."

"Whether you become a baron depends on the size of your domain. A frontier charter does not guarantee a barony.

In fact, many of you would have ended up as landless rogue knights under the old rules."

"The Empire has now given all of you a seat among the nobility."

"But is a Lord the same as a Baron?" someone muttered from the crowd.

More cautious voices followed:

"If we become Lords, but Lords must be attached to one of the five-tier nobles, which nobles are we subordinate to?"

"Well..." Laksu’s eyes narrowed slightly, voice lifting in tone.

"In principle, you should become Lords under the noble who issued your frontier charter.

But Northwind is remote. To promote cooperation in exploring the vast northern wilderness, the Empire suggests:

Choose a nearby five-tier noble as your patron."

"Furthermore, the Empire has decided that this year’s first wave of Lords will have the right to choose their noble patron."

Clearly, the Empire understood that frontier settlers and neighboring nobles often clashed.

To ease those tensions, Lords would not be forced to attach themselves to the nearest noble by default.