Chapter Title: Dwarf Festival (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Ha… fuck."
Jeron had been brimming with dreams and hopes just moments ago.
It was because he believed that monopolizing Earth would make life incredibly easy.
If he could supply unlimited resources to this barren, impoverished territory, what better cheat code could exist in the world?
Jeron had returned to his room to study the portal and discovered a few facts, unable to hide his disappointment.
Before seriously transporting items from Earth, he delved deeper into the portal's functions and learned there was a kind of weight limit.
He realized this after noticing the golden light on his palm fading while moving iron from the forge.
It had been a simple experiment. If he could bring items over without limit, he'd planned to find a truck, load it with supplies, and haul them back.
Arming the territory's forces and raiding Earth's military bases would essentially end the game.
What would happen if he brought back massive quantities of firearms and armed everyone?
Conquering the world in a few years wouldn't be impossible.
But after discovering the weight limit on bringing things through the portal, he even felt like the family's guardian dragon was grinning slyly at him.
[Graahaha! Trying to get something for nothing, are you? Life doesn't work that way. You'll end up bald.]
'Damn lizard bastard. Talks big after giving me this.'
The problems didn't end there.
Weight was one thing, but volume affected it too, just like a courier service charging separately for weight and size.
Jeron organized what he'd learned so far.
1. The more items brought from the other world, the fainter the Golden Key's golden color became, and if it turned completely black, no more items could be brought that day.
2. The key's color also depended on dwell time. Bringing more items shortened the time he could stay on Earth.
3. The Golden Key recovered naturally over time.
The Golden Key's power wasn't infinite.
Perhaps the family ancestors had faced the same limitations?
It was a highly plausible hypothesis.
The family's power was like a gacha game, randomly granting abilities that were always special compared to others.
Yet using such special powers across generations, the family had remained mere barons, which felt odd.
The problem was that the guardian dragon had granted a power akin to premature ejaculation(?).
From the confirmed facts, he formed two hypotheses.
First, the Golden Key's power was replenished by mana in the body.
Mana-wielding mages were extremely rare, and those skilled enough in magic to aid in war could rise meteorically.
This hypothesis felt valid because during ancestors presumed to possess mana, the family's title had risen dramatically.
At one point, the Pellow family had even been a mighty count house.
Second, it was just innately limited.
Truthfully, this was the worse case.
If the first hypothesis held, acquiring mana would increase the amount he could bring from Earth. But if there was an absolute limit?
"Then… I'll have no choice but to rip the dragon out of the family crest."
He had to believe that gaining mana would grant power.
Otherwise, there'd be no way to gain strength in this damned medieval world.
Knock knock.
"Young Lord?"
Violet had brought a puppy.
This was for a living creature experiment—to see if anything besides Jeron could pass through the portal.
From the results so far, the portal didn't seem harmful, but he didn't relish using a live person for tests. The territory had no death row inmates anyway.
"...."
Violet stood blankly beside Jeron.
"Get out."
"Could I stay a bit longer? I need to do some cleaning, and the laundry…"
"I'll call if I need you. Out."
She left the room with a dejected expression.
Now for the living creature experiment(?).
Could the puppy pass through the portal?
"Hek! Hek! Hek!"
He opened the portal and released the puppy, which darted around the room.
Dog instincts, no doubt—it sniffed everywhere.
If it marked its territory, that'd be a problem.
Spotting another world in the corner of the room, the puppy charged at full speed.
"Puppy! Don't run like that!"
Slosh!
The puppy tried to enter the portal but was gently pushed back.
As expected, the portal didn't harm living creatures directly.
This time, Jeron picked up the puppy and stepped through.
He passed through smoothly with the puppy in his arms.
"It works?"
A major breakthrough.
He'd worried deeply about what to do if living creatures couldn't pass, but this suggested people could too without issue.
However, it wasn't unrestricted—they had to be in physical contact with Jeron to cross to Earth.
Jeron quickly checked for penalties.
"Knew it."
He'd expected as much.
The Golden Key embedded in his palm never let him get something for nothing.
Its color had faded considerably.
This amounted to enough for about 15kg from Earth.
The current weight limit seemed around 40kg—a massive loss.
Unless in truly exceptional cases, he should avoid bringing others through the portal.
Even without these limits, revealing he could access another world could trigger enormous butterfly effects, so caution was always necessary.
That wrapped up the experiments.
Knock knock.
"Young Lord!"
"What now?"
It was his adjutant, Sir Garcia.
The territory's knights were extremely busy these days.
With major gaps in the forces, they scurried to fill them.
They toured villages under the barony, recruiting soldiers and training the new recruits.
More troops meant fewer hands for farming, potentially lowering long-term productivity, but there was no choice.
"Tax collectors from Count Hanes's territory have arrived over tax issues."
"Tax time already? Did you try asking for a delay?"
"You know how it is."
Sir Garcia made a miserable face.
The territory was a mess, with huge gaps from lost troops. But that was internal affairs.
Failing to pay the required tribute to the count would revoke trade rights immediately.
The main income came from herbs and monster hides, processed via the count's territory.
The kingdom required permits for trade, and without trade rights, the Pellow family desperately needed the count's help.
In the ruthless noble society, humanitarian aid didn't exist.
Thus, non-payment meant instant loss of trade rights.
"I'll be there soon."
Jeron pondered.
Noble society was indeed pitiless. But barring enemies, they avoided excessive exploitation or troublemaking in allied territories.
Count Hanes was of the same faction, with no reason to harm a barony.
Contracts were honored.
In medieval times, the noble system ran on contracts, so once documented, they were upheld on pain of death.
Breaching them disqualified one as a noble; in severe cases, titles were stripped.
Taxes were unavoidable, but Count Hanes wasn't a total bastard.
The barony sent gifts with taxes, and the count reciprocated with items worth more than received.
Think of it as tribute trade.
It was just 10% more value than the gift—not 2-3 times—but it still helped the territory's finances.
Suddenly, Jeron recalled the jewelry he'd swept up from the pharmacy's second floor yesterday.
"This… might let me fleece the count dry?"
***
'Correction. I'll call you my guardian deity, guardian dragon.'
In the lord's manor reception room, Viscount Romid, the count's tax collector, wore an ecstatic expression.
The knights were the same.
From Sir Garcia to Knight Captain Sir James.
They couldn't hide their shock at the intricately engraved golden dragon.
Jeron, watching, barely stifled his laughter.
The ring itself had no issues.
It was 24k pure gold, engraved with a dragon ascending while clutching a yeouiju.
The yeouiju was a sapphire, cut with exquisite precision—beyond this world's technology.
On Earth, such rings were called "dragon rings."
Commonly seen on old folks in rural areas.
And the case?
Gold-plated, engraved with a landscape featuring a mountain like Ilgwang from hwatu cards, a pine tree, and a golden dragon ascending under unmistakable Palgwang moonlight.
The epitome of tackiness.
'Honestly, I'd pawn it at a gold shop immediately, but here?'
"What an incredible heirloom, Young Lord!"
Greed gleamed in Viscount Romid's eyes.
He probably wanted to steal it and run.
But he'd be caught and beheaded within an hour, so he endured.
Embezzling gifts was unthinkable.
Corruption riddled society, but the nobles' world had strict lines.
Betraying one's own faction bred grudges repaid generations later with territory wars, so nobles upheld those lines well.
"I plan to send it as a gift."
"Yes!?"
Viscount Romid was genuinely shocked.
To him, it was clearly an heirloom, so gifting it was bewildering.
The territory knights panicked too.
"N-No, Young Lord! Passing down an heirloom as a gift—your ancestors won't rest easy in the grave!"
"Young Lord! Not the heirloom!"
"Quiet."
Jeron gave an Oscar-worthy performance.
He hated acting like it pained him to gift a treasured heirloom.
The count receiving it would reciprocate with at least 10% more value. Assuming he accepted it.
Viscount Romid had to ask outright now.
"It's far too valuable—I'm at a loss. Is there something specific you'd like from the count?"
"I've acquired a Mana Heart Method."
"Yes!?"
"We also need weapons and armor. Please convey that to the count and secure a favorable outcome."
Viscount Romid carefully packed the "heirloom" and departed, urging his escort knights to haste so he could deliver it swiftly to the count.
As they watched him go, Sir James hurriedly asked.
"Young Lord! You ordered us to play along earlier, but I was truly shocked. Isn't it really an heirloom?"
"Heirloom? The only one in our family is a single golden chalice."
"Then what was that ring…?"
"Found it in some ruins. Don't ask further—keep your mouths shut."
Jeron could never admit he'd rummaged it from an Earth dresser drawer.