Chapter 4: Blood on the Ledger
The golden afterglow of the setting sun spread over the mountaintop, turning the wooden houses scattered on the hillside amber. Mayor Matt of Frostleaf had no interest in appreciating the twilight scene; his rough fingers rubbed together vigorously, his knuckles turning bluish white from excessive force. He stood on the hillside, eyes fixed on the approaching procession in the distance, his heart sinking to the bottom.
It's time.
A month and a half ago, Matt received news that Frostleaf Town—and even the entire Blackpine Ridge—had been allocated to the Tulip family, under Rod Tulip. This meant that the residents of Frostleaf Town would have to start paying taxes.
Frostleaf Town had not paid taxes for ten years, ever since the previous tax collector was killed by bandits. Now that a new lord had appeared, everyone was filled with unease. Some hunters had already fled, but wealthy farmers like Matt, who owned large amounts of arable land, could not bear to abandon their holdings and had no choice but to stay.
Matt didn't want to hand his wealth over to the lord for nothing, so he resorted to underhanded methods.
Clearly, they had failed.
"Useless is useless! So many people, and you can't even handle something this small!" Matt cursed inwardly.
Faced with the massive convoy and more than twenty cavalrymen armed with sharp weapons, Matt dared not confront them head-on. Accompanied by several wealthy farmers, he jogged to the front of the caravan to greet the new lord.
Without needing a portrait, Matt immediately noticed the young man among the guards and hurried forward to bow.
Golden curly hair, a tall and sturdy build, and a fair, handsome face—this was clearly someone raised on a noble's diet.
"Welcome to Frostleaf Town, Your Excellency." Matt forced a smile, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening as he nervously wrung his hands. "I am Matt Minewood, the mayor elected by everyone. Please feel free to ask me anything."
The other wealthy farmers hurriedly bowed as well, stumbling over phrases like "Welcome, Your Excellency Baron."
It was a mess. They clearly hadn't rehearsed.
Rod smiled, unconcerned, and nodded slightly.
His gaze swept over the weathered faces before settling on Matt.
"Traveling is tiring. Prepare lodging for my people immediately."
"Also, find a large place to imprison the sixty-three bandit prisoners behind us."
"Prepare food for another forty people. The prisoners can go hungry for one night."
Rhodes issued his orders calmly from horseback.
"Everything is ready. Please follow me," Matt replied, quickly stepping aside.
Frostleaf Town sat on a hillside between steep valleys, surrounded by a two-meter-high spiked fence. The location was defensible, but the town itself was small—more a large village than a true settlement. Rhodes estimated it could house at most six or seven hundred people.
The northern region was cold and barren, incomparable to the fertile southern provinces. Still, the wasteland was vast. With proper farming methods, even a single annual harvest could feed tens of thousands.
Frostleaf Town would inevitably expand. One day, this hill would hold a proper castle.
For now, it was only a dream.
Rhodes' arrival drew the attention of the entire town. The residents were curious and fearful, stealing glances while keeping their heads lowered.
"This is our new lord—pay your respects!" Matt shouted.
The townspeople hurriedly bowed.
"Please forgive them," Matt explained nervously. "They're ignorant folk who don't understand etiquette."
Rhodes wasn't offended—he had expected as much.
"But as mayor," Rod said calmly, "didn't you teach them beforehand?"
Matt opened his mouth to retort, then swallowed his words under Rod's gaze.
"I… apologize, Your Excellency. It was my oversight."
"Keep walking."
Rod didn't press further, but he now understood that Matt's respect was only skin-deep.
The courtyard Matt led him to was clean but dilapidated—three old wooden houses mixed among common dwellings.
Rod frowned. "Is this my residence?"
"This wasteland cannot compare to your family castle," Matt said with a bow. "Please stay here for now. Tomorrow, you may choose land to build your manor."
Rod's gaze drifted uphill.
"Whose houses are those at the top?"
Matt hesitated.
"That place is nice," Rod said. "I'll live there."
"That won't do!" Matt blurted out. "That's my house, Your Excellency!"
Rod's expression darkened.
"No? You're refusing me—on my land?"
Steel rang.
Rhodes drew his greatsword and pointed it at Matt.
"Who gave you permission to build a house on my land?""Did you pay taxes?"
Durant and the guards drew their weapons.
Matt collapsed to his knees.
"I—I'll make room immediately!"
"Too late," Rhodes said coldly. "Disrespecting the lord, stealing noble land, and evading taxes—how does imperial law judge this?"
"Confiscate property and reduce them to serfs!" Durant answered.
"And if someone plots to murder the lord?"
"Execution by hanging!"
Matt collapsed completely.
"I've been framed! He slandered me!"
Rod waved his hand, ordering Matt gagged.
Turning to the other wealthy farmers, he spoke calmly.
"Matt's crimes have nothing to do with you. Pay your taxes, and I won't pursue the past."
They nodded frantically.
Rhodes had no intention of relying on bandits' words alone—but Matt's reaction told him everything.
"Lawrence," Rhodes said, "can you count?"
"Yes, Your Excellency!"
"You will collect taxes—sixty percent of their total property."
"Yes, my lord!"
Rhodes moved swiftly. Delay would only invite escape.
Matt's sons resisted arrest and were killed within moments. His wife attempted an ambush and was slain as well.
That night, the townspeople gathered outside the courtyard.
Rhodes ate calmly by the fire.
The robbers were dragged forward.
"Did he plot against me?" Rhodes asked.
"Yes."
"Slander!" Matt screamed.
Rhodes laid out two maps. The routes matched. The handwriting matched Matt's ledger.
"I won't believe you anyway," Rhodes said.
Durant read the verdict.
"Matt Minewood has stolen noble land, resisted taxes, insulted the lord, and plotted murder."
"He shall be hanged."
"Does anyone object?"
Silence.
"Very good."
Matt was executed.
"Dispose of the body. Consider it part of the imperial poll tax."
Then Rhodes stood.
"I am Rhodes Tulip, Baron of Blackpine Ridge.""This land, the sky above it, the beasts, crops, rivers, and forests—all belong to me.""Unauthorized farming, hunting, and fishing are crimes punishable by death."
Murmurs erupted.
"I am merciful.""You may keep your homes—but you will pay sixty percent of your property and grain."
Protests broke out.
Steel answered.
"If you refuse, leave.""Leave naked.""Take nothing that belongs to me."
Despair spread.
Then Rhodes turned to the militia.
"You will pay thirty percent."
Hope returned—because comparison is everything.
By dawn, Frostleaf Town belonged to him.
In one night, order had been rewritten in blood.
(End of Chapter)