Why are you obsessed with your fake wife?

“Sir Adrian and twenty two other people left the castle this morning. If things go as planned, they should be back in fifteen days.”

“Good job.”

Glenn nodded as he listened to the report from the vassal. The expedition team to explore the dragon lair had set off that morning and were supposed to return in two weeks, but the expedition could take even longer as they roamed through the mountain.

However, he could not sit around forever just waiting for the expedition team to return. Glenn had to move as fast as possible to reorganize the captured territory. Today, he was inspecting the villages around Vallon castle.

He stood at the top of a low hill, and looked out at all the farmland around. Different from the soil at Winterfell, the soil here was dark, and dark-colored soil was an indication that the top soil contained plenty of nutrients for the crops. It was chernozem, black soil with the highest yield[1].

As he looked at the fertile, dark soil, Glenn felt an unfamiliar feeling swell in his chest. For several generations, the heads of Winterfell had had to exert all effort to make a living with the barren fields they had, to their sorrow.

‘But now, I have received this fertile land…’

Honestly, it was really hard for him to keep a straight face. He wanted to immediately grab his subordinates in a large hug, and laugh out loud with them, sharing his joy with everyone. Instead, Glenn cleared his throat and spoke.

“Have you examined the land register that is in the castle?”

“Yes, my Lord. To summarize, compared to the amount of farmland available, the number of people living in the territory is far too little. Even though there is a lot of land, there is no one to farm it, so several fields have been lying fallow for several years now.”

“That is surprising.”

This was something that he could never imagine happening at Winterfell. With his surprise written on his face, he asked.

“You mean, he didn’t try to rectify that? He could have accepted migrants to farm the land.”

“Maybe because the count was too high-handed? He did accept people, but as soon as he accepted people, they would run away again, which created the shortage.”

“Tell me in detail.”

The administrators told him the true state of things that they had discovered. Usually, a lord would rent his land to farmers and charge them an appropriate tax for the use of the land. This was usually not an issue, but it did become a problem if the tax was enormous. Because the arable land was so large, the farmland that each person had to work on was also great. It was so large that they had to work constantly throughout the year, their bodies grinding away. However, when harvest season came, the farmers would receive only a little part of the harvest, essentially nothing, and come springtime, some people even starved to death.

In such a situation, of course the people ran away from the region, unable to endure the suffering any longer. As the number of people decreased, the work that each person had to do also increased, and even more people left the region, creating an endless vicious cycle[2].

At that point, Glenn asked again as if he found the whole thing incomprehensible.

“Then wouldn’t it have been okay if he reduced the tax they had to pay?”

“Of course he would not do that. To Count Altair, the farmers were objects to be exploited, and not parties to negotiate with.”

“He let his greed get the best of him. No foresight whatsoever.”

If he reduced the tax, even if it was by only a tiny amount, the overall output would have increased many fold. Glenn pondered for a bit before speaking again.

“This farmer shortage…… let’s tell some of the farmers at Winterfell to move here.”

“We thought of that too, but it would still be inadequate.”

“……it’s that bad?”

If things were to this extent, then Count Altair’s determination to leave the lands empty and unfarmed instead of negotiating with his subordinates was astounding. At this point, Nadia spoke.

“If even bringing people from Winterfell will be inadequate, our only option now is to accept migrants.”

“Isn’t there a simpler way, Madam?”

It was Giscard who had replied to Nadia’s suggestion.

“A simpler way……?”

“We have to bring back all the people who fled because of Altair. My Lord, if you just give the order, I will lead the army to comb through the neighboring hills. There will certainly be slash-and-burn farmers there who have set up villages to live[3]. The hills are the only place where they could have possibly found to stay.”

Giscard had a reason for proposing this violent method, instead of agreeing to Nadia’s comparatively milder method.

“Accepting migrants is one way to fill up the shortage…… but isn’t Count Altair notoriously infamous for the high taxes he levied on the farmers? Migrants will not willingly come here to stay.”

“But I am now the master of this region. I will not set the tax rate so high like the former master did.”

“Yes, people like me who know you, my Lord, will know that is true. But from the migrants’ perspective, all landlords are nothing but difficult, scary nobles.”

“………”

“No matter how many times you declare that the taxes will be decreased, will they believe that so easily, my Lord? After all, it is them, the powerless serfs, that will suffer but be unable to complain if you raise the tax rate when the harvest season comes.”

Yes, Glenn would never do such a thing, but that was a judgment only people around him, who knew very well, could have. But the migrants who were forced to wander all over the kingdom because of the nobles’ tyranny would never believe Glenn so easily.

‘Sir Giscard is right. The farming seasons will soon start, so we cannot use any solutions that will take too long……’