How to survive as a beggar count

Chapter 9

In the small mountain village of Kreizel in the Impera Count’s domain, a woman anxiously paced back and forth, her face full of worry.

“Why isn’t she home yet?!”

It was already getting late, but the child still hadn’t returned.

“Could she have gone to the back mountain…?”

The back mountain of the village was currently off-limits due to a wild boar wreaking havoc, and it was dangerous to go there. Last time, a child had gone there and gotten seriously injured, so the woman’s worry only deepened.

“Mom!”

“Adeleen! Where have you been? Why are you just coming back now?”

The child was still full of energy despite the scolding.

“What’s all that on your face?”

“I ate meat!”

“Meat?”

Meat? In times like these, even a single meal was hard to come by.

There were some well-off people in the world, but who would give meat to a child like this?

“Yeah! When I went to the back mountain…”

“The back mountain? Didn’t I tell you not to go there?”

Only then did the child realize her mistake and tears started to well up.

“But… there was such a delicious smell coming from the back mountain…”

“So?”

“So, when I went, I found all this leftover meat piled up like a mountain…”

The child, thinking her mother was scolding her, blurted out everything.

‘Meat on the back mountain? What is that…?’

The child didn’t seem to be lying.

It made sense because her face and hands were covered in oil and grease.

“Honey! Come here!”

“What is it?”

The man, who had been resting, reluctantly came out due to his wife’s urging.

“Adeleen, say it again.”

“So…”

After hearing the child’s story, both were uncertain, but they decided to pack up and head out.

If there was meat piled up like a mountain, they couldn’t just ignore it.

They packed as lightly as possible, just in case the wild boar showed up and they needed to flee quickly.

Soon, they realized they had made the wrong decision.

“Wow…”

A massive boar carcass, its skin stripped off and discarded.

It hadn’t been dead for more than half a day, so it hadn’t started to rot yet.

“This… isn’t this the wild boar?”

“Seems like it…”

But who took it down? And why didn’t they take a reward for exterminating it?

They were full of questions, but soon stopped thinking about it. The urgent matter was to move the meat as quickly as possible.

“Go get the village chief!”

“Y-Yes!”

That day, a feast was held in the village of Kreizel.

The villagers were eating the meat of the wild boar left behind by some unknown adventurer.

“Ha ha ha! Long live the adventurer!”

“The adventurer’s better than the lord! Even when the village chief sent petitions, he didn’t budge!”

“Hey! Don’t say such blasphemous things!”

“So what? He probably doesn’t care about our tiny village anyway!”

“True…”

“If you have time to talk, eat more meat!”

“Ugh…”

Once they bit into the thick meat, all their worries seemed to fade away.

***

“Ylenne!”

“Yes! Master… Aaah!”

Ylenne was startled when she saw him return, covered in the blood of the wild boar.

“Master! What happened… Who did this to you?”

“Ugh… it’s not my blood…”

“If it’s not your blood, then… murder?”

“It’s nothing like that, just… ugh…!”

Most of the blood on his clothes was from the wild boar.

However, the ointment that Chrode had applied earlier had worn off, and the pain from his wounds was returning.

‘I should’ve asked for another bottle of that ointment…’

“Ugh…! How did this happen…?”

Ylenne, as if it were her own injury, was shedding tears like raindrops. What a loyal servant she was.

To go through all this for a reckless young master like me…

“F-First…”

He was about to ask her to call for the priest but stopped himself. That would cost money.

This level of injury should heal in a few nights. I need to save every penny.

“…Do we still have any leftover Melam leaves? Please crush them and bring them to me.”

“Melam leaves? Alright, I’ll get them!”

“Ugh…”

Melam leaves are a hallucinogenic herb, often used for medicinal purposes. In Ian’s case, though, his interest was more in its hallucinogenic effects than its medicinal uses.

‘From tomorrow, I’m definitely going to start learning healing magic.’

The bones and muscles in his body were screaming in pain.

Fortunately, since he had reached Rank 2, he should be able to use some healing magic.

Ylenne quickly gathered the leaves and brought them to him.

After applying the crushed leaves to his injuries, the pain started to subside.

“…Phew! I can breathe again.”

“Master, are you sure this will be enough?”

“Yes, it’s fine. Now, go take care of your duties.”

“Yes, Master…”

Though Ylenne was worried, she reluctantly stepped back at her master’s command.

‘…It’s oddly quiet.’

Based on Ian’s memory, by now, Count Aimon should have come in and given a harsh scolding. Then, Ian would have gone to his room with a sour expression.

But Count Aimon hadn’t appeared.

Ian, while packing the remaining leaves, asked Ylenne.

“Is my father asleep?”

“Yes. He said he was tired today.”

‘Tired?’

An uncomfortable feeling washed over him. The old man had been fine up until this morning, so why was he suddenly tired?

“…Did he receive any letters?”

“Yes! How did you know? He received a letter earlier today, and since then, his expression has been sour.”

‘Oh no.’

It had come.

A letter announcing the fall of the Impera Count family.

“Where was the letter from?”

“The seal on the envelope was that of Count Bener. It had a snake coiled in the symbol. I’m sorry, but I don’t know the contents…”

“Alright. I see.”

After nodding, Ylenne quickly gathered the remaining Melam leaves and left the room.

Managing such a large mansion alone must keep her busy, so Ian let her get on with her work.

The problem now was the letter from Count Bener’s territory.

‘It’s probably because of that guy, the one Ian had beaten up.’

A few days ago, there had been a small commotion at the usual tavern. As usual, Ian was drinking heavily like a wild dog.

But then, an unfamiliar outsider started shouting loudly.

‘The taste of this alcohol is garbage!’

Ian didn’t think much of it at first.

‘The side dishes are trash too!’

Still, he ignored it.

‘Is this because it’s in the Impera Count’s domain? Hahaha!’

That was when Ian couldn’t hold back any longer. The provocative remark instantly set him off.

‘Who is this bastard?’

‘What the hell are you?’

Ian was quite the hothead.

It was one thing to insult the alcohol in the tavern, but insulting the lord of this land was something he couldn’t tolerate! Ian immediately rushed toward the man.

Looking back now, there were a lot of strange things about that moment.

The fact that the guy had said such things right next to Ian, and how he didn’t even try to fight back until his face was a mess.

As a result, Ian ended up beating the guy senseless, and it wasn’t until he got tired that he finally stopped.

‘It was all a setup.’

Most likely, the guy had been provoking Ian on purpose to get him to hit him.

After a while, the commotion had died down.

It turned out the man was a younger noble from the Bener family.

Although Count Bener apologized for the insult caused by his vassal, things had been different when the son of the count had punched a baron.

Aimon felt wronged, but that was the difference in political power.

Ian knew this, and though he was scared, after drinking a few bottles, he had managed to forget about it.

Of course, just because Ian forgot didn’t mean the consequences disappeared.

That moment had snowballed, and here they were now.

‘Ugh.’

It’s bad enough that I’m stuck in this idiot’s body, but now I have to clean up his mess too?

I felt like slapping him across the face, but it would just hurt me.

I hurried to Aimon’s study.

Creeeak.

I could ask him tomorrow, but I wanted to see for myself with my own eyes right now.

On the desk in the dark study, I found a letter.

A symbol of a snake coiled tightly.

The flickering tongue reminded me of Count Bener.

‘This is it.’

Count Bener.

Ian had seen him a few times when he was young. He remembered the man’s mustache, which was as small as a mouse’s whiskers.

“Ugh…”

I began to read the letter calmly.

‘I’ll skip the flowery language. Hmm, the person Ian beat up was named Dabnes Magien, huh. Hmm, I see.’

Being a noble, there was a lot of polite language.

“Dear Count Impera,” or “I beg for your understanding.” But in essence, it was filled with criticism toward me—well, more accurately, toward Ian.

“…Wait a minute?”

My eyes stopped at the last line of the letter.

“Treatment costs are one thousand gold?”

Does this bastard even have a conscience?

In this world, the average peasant earns just one gold a month. That means they’re asking for the equivalent of what one thousand people would earn in a month, all for treatment costs.

And it has to be paid in full, no less.

For a lord of a considerable estate, it might be possible, but the Impera Count’s territory is as poor as it gets. It’s a destitute land.

Even managing to gather a thousand gold in this place would be an extremely tight challenge.

“These crazy bastards, they’re not even bringing a dead person back to life… and they want a thousand gold?”

They’re burning a thousand gold just to beat up one person?

I now understood why Aimon’s expression had turned sour the moment he received the letter.

There was no way Aimon could accept this offer.

Then, as a last resort, he would probably think of asking the kingdom’s judges for a verdict.

But by now, the judges had already been bribed, so the ruling was predictable.

A trial by combat.

In that case, Aimon would lose and become a blank.

Having witnessed how Blank was treated at the tavern, my feelings only soured further.

‘What a bastard.’

My insides were boiling.

Sure, Ian was at fault for beating the man, but the noble must have intentionally provoked him from the start.

Otherwise, why would the baron show up in that shabby tavern?

There were a few crumpled papers on one side of the desk.

Just in case, I unfolded one of them and started reading.

‘Damn…’

Most of the letter was about Aimon begging Count Bener for forgiveness.

He had sacrificed his pride for the sake of his son.

But Count Bener wasn’t going to accept it.

From there, everything would proceed just as expected.

The situation was unfolding exactly as I had read about in the novel.

‘I knew this would happen… but experiencing it firsthand is even worse than I imagined.’

My rank was only 2, the highest being a magical rank. According to the storyline, my opponent would be a monster with a swordsmanship rank of 5.

Even if I had a thousand lives, I would still lose if I fought with him now.

The gap between Rank 5 and Rank 2 was that vast.

Even if Aimon, a Rank 4 mage, stepped in, the outcome would be the same.

The higher the rank, the more drastic the difference becomes.

If it came to a trial by combat, my chances of winning would be zero.

‘Rank 5…’

Coincidentally, there was a way to instantly achieve Rank 5.

The Necronomicon.

An artifact that permanently fixes the user’s dark magic rank at 5. In exchange, it takes the user’s soul.

If I used it, there might be a chance.

If both sides were Rank 5, I might have a fighting chance.

“…No. I can’t.”

But that’s the end of it.

Even if I somehow won the trial by combat, that would be the end of it.

My mind would gradually be consumed by dark magic, and eventually, I’d go insane.

Then, I would sacrifice Ylenne and Aimon, and in the end, either the protagonist or someone else would kill me.

And I would use that? That would be the dumbest thing I could do.

“Ugh…”

Should I just give them the thousand gold? Of course, that wouldn’t work either.

Even if I sold the castle to pay, they’d find another reason to provoke a dispute.

By then, I would be even poorer, and would have no choice but to suffer.

“Phew.”

No matter how I thought about it, there was only one solution.

And that plan was already set.

‘Krod.’

The Swift Sword Knight Krod.

In the end, it was fortunate that I had recruited him.

But wasn’t recruiting Krod a blunder?

Did I really reveal the location of the knight’s relics too?

The future of the story could be thrown into chaos because of this.

“Damn it.”

I didn’t feel good about it, but I had no choice but to believe that it was the least bad option.