Chapter 5: The First Day of Rule
Early morning.
The sun had not yet risen, and the sky was only beginning to brighten.
Early spring on the northern border was still bitterly cold.
Durant leaned against a wooden tub filled with hot water, letting out a long, satisfied sigh.
After soaking for a while, he finally dipped his towel into the hot water, ready to properly wipe his face.
The moment he looked up, he saw Rod push open the door and step outside. Durant's hand holding the towel paused midair.
"You actually got up so early…"
Most noble children, after receiving their lands, immediately began to indulge themselves—especially those who had grown up under strict family control.
Illegitimate children like Rhodes were often even more extravagant, buying female slaves, servants, and jewelry to make up for everything they had lacked before.
Durant hadn't expected that Rod hadn't even taken a nap.
What he didn't know was that Rhodes didn't want to sleep—he simply couldn't.
At Tulip Castle, he had been forced to rise early every day. The steward drove him to fetch water, chop wood, feed horses, and shovel manure. Every waking moment had been spent thinking about how to escape.
But here, Rhodes was awake by choice.
Because Blackpine Ridge was his own territory, everything he did now was for himself.
Having finally been given a chance to turn his fate around, Rhodes wanted to seize every single moment.
How could he possibly sleep in late?
"Good morning, Your Excellency."
Durant stepped forward and bowed respectfully.
Rod nodded slightly. "Did you catch anyone last night?"
"As you expected," Durant replied, "four townspeople who fled with their property were captured. They are awaiting your judgment."
"All property confiscated. Hung up, whipped, and reduced to slavery," Rod said calmly.
"Let the militia handle it."
Paying thirty percent less tax meant bearing more responsibility. Rhodes planned to hand these resentment-heavy tasks over to the militia going forward.
Only when conflicts existed between the militia and the townspeople could Rhodes feel safe relying on them.
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Durant continued, "Gunle's mercenaries reported that the captured bandits claimed to be villagers from Luanshi Village."
"They're bandits," Rod replied flatly. "There are no villagers."
Luanshi Village was not part of Blackpine Ridge; it belonged to another lord.
Rhodes didn't care. Anyone robbing caravans on his land was a bandit.
Spring planting season was approaching quickly, and Rhodes wouldn't let a single laborer slip away.
"Go wake Lawrence. We'll have breakfast together."
"We have a lot to do today."
Since Lord Rhodes was already awake, no one else had the right to remain in bed.
Durant roused everyone and dragged the people Rod wanted to see to the dining table.
Breakfast was prepared by three slaves from Matt's household. Durant made them taste it first.
Mushroom and chicken soup, two fried eggs, and five slices of toasted rye bread.
Only the bread on Rod's plate was white bread—clean, soft, and free of grit.
Even the mayor's household food was inferior to what Rhodes had eaten at Tulip Castle.
Compared to the refined lifestyle of the nobility, life in the North was indeed harsh.
Still, after studying the map late into the night, Rhodes realized Blackpine Ridge had tremendous potential.
Mountains enclosed it on three sides. Only one main road led deeper into the northern border; the rest were narrow, winding paths.
Shuangye Town lay southwest of the region's center, mostly flat plains and low hills, with a large river to the northeast.
Clear out bandits and wild beasts, and it would be ideal farmland.
Only with grain could a king rise.
Once the land was developed and an army established, would life still be so difficult?
Rhodes finished his meal quickly, even scraping the remaining soup from the bowl with bread.
He wiped his mouth and turned to Lawrence.
"Where's the inventory list?"
"It's all tallied," Lawrence said, unfolding a parchment.
"Three thousand catties of rye, five hundred catties of wheat, fifteen hundred catties of rye seed, two hundred catties of wheat seed, fifty bolts of coarse linen, and one hundred catties of common spices. There are also miscellaneous daily necessities."
Rod glanced at it. "What do you usually bring back when you return?"
"Ore, animal hides, herbs—sometimes smoked meat."
That matched Rhodes' expectations.
Much of the Northern Wasteland still operated on barter. Currency held little real value.
"How much profit do you make hauling these three wagons back?"
Lawrence chuckled and silently raised four fingers.
Forty gold coins.
Rhodes remained calm on the surface, but inwardly he was stunned.
That single trip rivaled two months of tax income for many barons.
Ordinary baronial lands were often a quarter the size of Blackpine Ridge, with annual incomes of only two to five hundred gold coins.
So the caravan had to keep running.
Of course, Rhodes couldn't produce trade goods yet. Food and seed had to be reserved.
Hunting and mining would come first.
"Given the profits," Rod said, "you should hire stronger escorts."
"If it were Gunle's mercenaries, those bandits wouldn't have lasted long."
"The cost would be enormous, Baron," Lawrence said bitterly. "Everything needs gold."
Rod dropped the topic and turned to Durant.
"Secure the goods and keep constant watch."
Then to Lawrence:
"Today, continue collecting taxes."
"At the same time, compile population data—occupations, families, relationships."
"You have three days."
"Do it well, and I'll reduce your ransom."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Lawrence agreed eagerly.
Last night, while collecting taxes, he had felt something intoxicating.
No bargaining. No exchanges. Just taking.
Even if the wealth wasn't his, the feeling was addictive.
Rod continued:
"Find someone skilled at drawing."
"Have him map the entire town and label every house."
"Put all idle people to work—cut timber and transport it back."
"This place needs repairs."
A castle was a distant dream, but a manor was achievable.
"Inspect and repair the town fences."
"Check for a blacksmith."
"Assign Hamo there—and arrange a female assistant for him."
Durant nodded rapidly, recording everything on a wooden board with charcoal.
He was now the person Rhodes trusted most.
The work was endless.
And Durant loved it.
"My lord, what should we do today?" Gunle asked, squatting on a stool.
"Bring your axe and follow me," Rhodes said.
"You're responsible for my safety."
He stood.
"Now let's find a clever rich farmer."
"Have him show us the farmland of Frostleaf Town."
(End of Chapter)