The Founding Monarch Became the Mastermind

Chapter 120

At the far northeastern end of the Kingdom of Obla lay Burgos.

Although it was technically a royal territory with an appointed administrator, unlike other royal territories where administrators were dispatched from the capital, this place was so insignificant that local notables took turns managing it.

If it weren’t for the nearby famous and mysterious place called the “Dragon’s Wasteland,” there probably wouldn’t even be an administrator here.

The responsibility would have been shifted to a nearby, less significant lord.

In ancient times, the Dragon’s Wasteland had such a notorious reputation (though there hadn’t been any major threats in decades) that no ordinary lord could handle it, so it was made a royal territory with annual support from the capital.

Burgos, despite being a remote backwater, housed a population of thousands due to the fact that it was a royal territory with relatively low taxes and stability.

In any case, Burgos didn’t see many visitors, aside from a few brave (or crazy) knights or adventurers who ventured out to the Dragon’s Wasteland.

But last year, Burgos underwent significant changes because of one person.

* * *

“Lord Salen is coming!”

“Lord Salen? Who’s that?”

“What!? You don’t even know the name of the person who’s been paying your wages every month? And he’s about to become the Governor of Burgos! Beat this fool!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

One day, a member of the royal family’s collateral branch appeared in Burgos, investing an amount greater than half of the region’s yearly budget.

It wasn’t just the current administrator, but all the local notables who received Lord Salen’s investments.

From farmlands to breweries, blacksmiths, inns, and pubs—Lord Salen’s money flowed into various sectors.

With the boldness fitting a royal, Lord Salen elevated the value of Burgos’ businesses to the level of those in central royal territories.

In simpler terms, it was like investing in a small shop in a rural town and valuing it as if it were a convenience store in a major city.

The local notables of Burgos couldn’t help but pledge their loyalty.

Of course, there were a few reckless individuals who tried to pocket Lord Salen’s investment for themselves.

However, any courage those individuals had quickly dissipated after hearing the monthly updates about Lord Salen from the Burgos Information Guild Branch, which acted on his behalf.

Now, Lord Salen was returning to Burgos.

And this time, not as just another member of the royal family’s collateral branch (though even then he was feared as a grim reaper in Burgos), but as the newly appointed interim governor, directly assigned from the capital.

This caused a stir not only in Burgos but across the entire northeastern region.

“Oh my pride! The pride of Burgos! The pride of the northeast…”

“That’s enough.”

“Yes.”

At Si-on’s words, the overly excited Administrator Swart, who had been rushing toward him, immediately stood at attention.

But even in this state, his lips kept twitching in excitement, showing just how thrilled he was to see Si-on again.

‘Well, he did handle things decently.’

“How have you been, Administrator Swart?”

Swart had handled things exactly as expected (which means he skimmed a little for himself), and Si-on smiled faintly at him.

At that, Administrator Swart’s twitching lips widened into a huge grin.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho! Your Excellency, the Governor!”

Swart, now full-on sobbing, startled Si-on.

“Come now, wipe those tears.”

“Sniff! I’m ashamed, Your Excellency. I didn’t want our reunion to look like this… Sniff!”

Swart wiped his tears and blew his nose into the handkerchief Si-on had handed him. After neatly folding it, he tried to return it to Si-on.

But Si-on, who had no intention of reusing a handkerchief smeared with the mucus of a middle-aged man, gingerly picked it up between his thumb and index finger and placed it at the edge of the table.

“Well, these things happen sometimes. Is there anything troubling you?”

“Sigh! It’s like this…”

Swart began to explain in a resigned tone.

Just like in other regions, the number of monsters had begun to increase in the northeastern territories as well.

At first, Burgos didn’t pay much attention.

Due to its location at the far northeastern end, the royal territory had more soldiers and mercenaries than other areas, and monsters typically targeted small villages, not a place like Burgos with thousands of inhabitants.

However, as time passed, the situation started to seem odd.

Almost every nearby lord was suddenly hiring mercenaries, and Burgos was not unaffected by this trend.

Mercenaries, enticed by the sudden boom, left by the dozens every few days, eager to make money.

Within less than a month, most of the mercenaries who had been stationed in Burgos had departed for various places in the northeastern region.

While mercenaries enjoyed a boom, Burgos entered a slump.

“At first, it wasn’t too bad. Thanks to Your Excellency’s investment, we believed we could endure for a few months. But then, after receiving a message from Duke Lloyd and sending a report to the capital…”

Swart had been instructed to report in detail on what “Lord Salen” had done for Burgos by none other than Duke Lloyd, second in line to the throne—a major figure in the royal succession.

Swart had drafted his report, highlighting Si-on’s contributions as much as possible.

It was only natural for him to do so since the biggest investor in Burgos might very well become the next king.

The news lifted his spirits, momentarily making him forget the economic slump and his worries about the monsters.

Until just ten days ago.

“Ten days ago, the rangers first discovered orcs to the north of the Wasteland. They confirmed they were warriors from Orc Land.”

Burgos had never had rangers before.

One of the conditions Si-on had set when he made his large investment was to send a search party of at least eight people into the Dragon’s Wasteland daily, to explore within ten kilometers. Swart had faithfully adhered to this condition.

Si-on’s reason for this was to observe any increase in the number of monsters in the Wasteland, and in case any ‘users’ appeared in what was undoubtedly a ‘quest zone.’

But then, out of nowhere, orcs had appeared.

“Orcs, here?”

“Yes. It was six of them, and although they were far off, they retreated north as soon as they saw our soldiers. Our men quickly returned as well.”

“And?”

“We immediately doubled the number of rangers sent out daily and started sending them twice a day, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. But for the next five days, there were no sightings of the orcs.

Then, four days ago, more than thirty orcs approached within the ten-kilometer range. We placed all forces on high alert and sent messages to the nearby lords. But, but…”

“Let me guess. They ignored you, didn’t they?”

“Ugh! Yes, exactly! Except for the Lord of Lagos Territory, they all ignored it!”

Royal territories are like company-owned branches, with the administrator as the branch manager.

When a branch manager asks for help, especially from the parent company, it’s expected that affiliate lords (who are like small independent stores) at least pretend to listen.

If they don’t, it could come back to bite them later when the branch manager reports it to headquarters, and then who knows how the CEO (the king) might handle things.

But this time, all the affiliate lords had collectively ignored the branch manager.

And right then, the person who could be seen as the special project manager sent from headquarters—the biggest investor in the branch—had shown up.

Naturally, all the fear and resentment Swart had accumulated over time erupted at once.

“Don’t worry, Administrator.”

“Oh…!”

“The orcs the rangers encountered are likely a tribe displaced from Orc Land. Or… no.”

Si-on shook his head, deciding not to say what he was thinking.

From his experience, when groups of 20 to 30 orcs moved together, it usually meant one of two things.

As mentioned, they were a tribe displaced by competition, or…

“A detachment.”

A detachment sent out for reconnaissance.

This meant that there could be a massive orc horde, numbering in the thousands, somewhere north of the Wasteland.

Of course, the latter was unlikely.

And even if it were the case, Si-on wasn’t particularly concerned.

The only reason Si-on didn’t mention this was because he felt sympathy for Administrator Swart, who had developed large coin-sized patches of hair loss from extreme stress.

After all.

The first thing Si-on killed the most after arriving in this world was, of course, monsters.

And the second thing he killed the most wasn’t humans but orcs.

“Your Excellency?”

Swart cautiously called out to Si-on, who had fallen into thought.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just reminiscing for a moment. Anyway, Administrator.”

Si-on, still unsure whether the number of orcs he had killed was over a thousand or not, smiled faintly.

“Don’t worry at all about the orcs. It seems like the time has come.”

“Time… for what exactly?”

“The reason I invested in Burgos.”

“…!”

“That’s right. It’s beginning.”

Swart knew why Si-on had made such a large investment.

Si-on had personally told him when he was with Baron Kilburn, the lord of Lagos and Si-on’s grandson.

But honestly, until seeing Si-on again, he had forgotten all about it

—his mind preoccupied with the sudden economic downturn and the fear of the orcs.

And above all, the fact that Si-on had come to Burgos with just a few guards.

“Your Excellency, if I may… Our mercenaries have left in large numbers. But the people you’ve brought…”

Swart couldn’t bring himself to ask outright, “Are you really going to carry out that plan with just five people?” but the question was on the tip of his tongue.

Si-on chuckled as he read Swart’s thoughts.

“Have you forgotten? My investments weren’t limited to just Burgos.”

“…Ah!”

“The main force is in the Lagos Territory. And I’ve already spoken with Baron Kilburn, the Lord of Lagos.”

“Then…”

Swart’s expression, previously filled with stress and worry, began to brighten with hope.

Si-on nodded.

“They’ll be here in three days. We’ll start with around 300 to 400 men.”

The Peregrine Division members and mercenaries hired by Si-on.

Si-on had ordered them to deal with the monsters in the Lagos Territory first.

As for the other territories in the northeastern region, Si-on didn’t care.

It was only natural that a grandfather would prioritize his grandson’s land.

And the other lords?

They would come running, begging for help.

Where to?

To Burgos, where Si-on had strategically placed himself.

And while they were at it, they would also face the consequences for ignoring Administrator Swart’s earlier desperate pleas for aid.