Building A Human Empire By Creating A Clan [EN]: Chapter 14

Not long after the village chiefs left, a group on horseback approached Ollymerus.

Their attire was not that of settlers; they were armed and made no attempt to conceal their menacing presence.

A red cloth fluttered on a long pole, displaying an embroidered lion’s head.

“Hear ye, you lowly beings dwelling on this land!”

The armored rider’s voice boomed.

“By the grace of the esteemed Horbid, Count John Doren, lord of Turan, proclaims that you, vile creatures, have slain the Count’s representative and denied his ownership of this land. Thus, you shall be punished for your sins!”

To deceive even humans.

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Bang!

Count John Doren slammed his fist on the table.

The table shattered from the magic-infused punch, sending the food flying.

The maids attending him recoiled in surprise.

“Say it again!”

“It appears Lord Anton has been murdered.”

“Who dares!”

The Count spat out the food he was chewing.

The maids trembled and bent to clean up the mess.

“News from Morena [a village founded by escaped serfs from the Count’s territory] says that Thurdret has sent a lord.”

The Count had quickly recognized Morena’s existence and sent a knight to subjugate it over a decade ago.

Since then, Morena had a Count’s representative stationed there, tasked with reporting high taxes and the state of the frontier.

“From Thurdret? Leaving them alone until now? Weren’t they uninterested in the frontier?”

“That’s what we thought, but the report suggests otherwise…”

“So, are you saying this newly appointed lord killed Anton?”

“No. An elf killed him.”

“Elf?”

The Count blinked, surprised by the word.

His clenched fist loosened, and he wore a dumbfounded expression for a moment.

But soon, his neck flushed red.

“Bullshit!”

The Count kicked the maid who was crouching in front of him.

The maid, who was cleaning up the discarded food, tumbled without resistance.

Some pieces of food she had put in her pocket fell out.

“I, I’m sorry…! Aah!”

Before the dark-complexioned maid could prostrate herself, the Count delivered a fierce kick.

“You, thief!”

The Count only saw the maid putting some of the scraps in her pocket; he didn’t notice the gaunt appearance of the maids due to starvation.

After venting his anger, he wiped his blood-stained shoes on the floor.

“Why would an elf kill Anton? How much tribute have I given those bastards!”

“The lord is from Thurdret, isn’t he? Maybe they offered them more than we did?”

The Count’s expression hardened.

That was possible.

Count Doren had some influence, but only in the northern part of Wallachia. [A region inspired by Eastern Europe]

Thurdret, on the other hand, was a great noble of Germania [an area based on ancient Germany], wielding power comparable to a king.

Their prestige was so high that even in the hostile country of Wallachia, everyone knew them.

Thurdret couldn’t be unaware of the situation in the frontier, yet they sent a lord.

Could he naively think they sent him without any countermeasures?

‘Thurdret, that damn Germania bastard, is up to something.’

He gritted his teeth, suppressing his anger.

“But it’s strange that they suddenly care about the frontier.”

The old retainer, who had been silently standing guard, spoke up.

“Strange?”

“Isn’t it? After abandoning it for over ten years, they suddenly send a lord? It would be more convincing to see it as an exile.”

That made sense, so the Count sat back in his chair and rested his chin on his fist.

“Hmm… How do we explain Anton’s death?”

“Lord Anton was a renowned knight, but the opponent is Thurdret. If they sent him into exile, there must be something they couldn’t execute him for. Lord Anton must have fallen victim to that.”

“That’s right. That’s plausible.”

The Count nodded, and his brother, Jeremy Doren, interjected.

“Should we investigate, brother?”

“Investigate with whom?”

“With the elves, of course…”

“You fool!”

Jeremy twisted to avoid the flying chunk of meat.

“Isn’t that why we’re in this situation! They won’t even talk to us, saying our ears would be defiled! They take the tribute, though! But now you’re telling me they killed Anton and spared the lord? Do you think I’d believe that!”

Jeremy’s face flushed at the disgrace he suffered in front of the retainers.

John’s nature was merciless, even to his own flesh and blood.

He shook his leg violently, his hand on the sword at his waist, radiating a menacing aura.

Jeremy couldn’t voice his dissatisfaction and bowed deeply.

“I, I misspoke.”

“I think the lord is trying to deceive me. He knows that northerners are easily swayed by other races, so he’s spouting nonsense to shake off my involvement. Don’t you think so?”

“…That seems to be the case.”

Jeremy agreed with a servile smile.

Then, the retainers, who had been cautiously watching each other, followed suit.

“Thurdret is clearly lying.”

“That’s right. They’re making a fool of us.”

“That bastard is just acting up because he has backing! We need to set an example!”

The retainers raised their voices, afraid the blame would fall on them.

“Quiet!”

The Count’s gaze turned to the retainer who had first reported.

“Anything else to say?”

“They say they received permission.”

“What permission? From whom?”

“From all the other races. So, they issued a proclamation throughout the frontier guaranteeing safety from being hunted.”

“Ha!”

Laughter erupted.

The silence and anger from a moment ago were gone, and the Count and his retainers burst into laughter.

“There’s no need to hear any more. This confirms it. He’s trying to deceive me with a bluff.”

The retainers nodded in agreement.

Their reaction was not absurd.

Rather, it was a reaction close to common sense.

‘Received permission from other races? He’s just a moron who’s heard a little about other races.’

The humans who knew the other races well, no less than the settlers, were them, the nobles of the north.

Until the sudden notification that entry to the Great Plains was permitted, they had suffered the same humiliation as the current settlers.

The humiliation had become a bone-deep experience, leaving no room to consider how the other races viewed humans.

‘Those bastards never see humans as people. At best, we’re just well-behaved monkeys.’

The forgotten humiliation surged up, but even more so, fear arose.

He quickly placed his trembling hands on his knees, pretending to be calm.

The Count was over fifty years old, and although decades had passed, his body had not forgotten the fear.

Whenever he heard stories about other races, his body immediately tensed up and stiffened.

‘I need to crush that brat before he gets any more out of hand.’

The Count’s retainer, Anton, had been killed, which was tantamount to a declaration of war.

Even if that hadn’t happened, the Count thought he couldn’t let that bastard go.

If he did, the frontier territories he had barely occupied would be snatched away.

The Count knew better than anyone how sweet the promise of safety would sound to the settlers who were tormented by the threat of other races every day.

“We need to capture that madman.”

“Not kill him?”

“Thurdret would pay a hefty price for him; why would I kill him?”

The Count stood up.

“Prepare for the expedition!”

“How many should we gather?”

“Everyone who can ride a horse! Even if he’s a madman, he killed Anton. We’ll only be in trouble if we’re careless and suffer unnecessary damage. And it’s also troublesome to encounter the other races wandering the Great Plains. We need to at least look the part so they don’t think we’re prey.”

“Understood.”

The Count added that he didn’t need infantry.

“And send someone ahead to propose surrender first. It probably won’t work, but if it does, we can avoid unnecessary trouble.”

“Yes!”

After the retainers left and silence descended, the Count looked at the man who had been quietly silent.

The man was sitting across from the Count, with the broken table between them.

He held a teacup and saucer, sipping the cold tea and smiling.

“This has become troublesome.”

“There’s nothing to worry about.”

Unlike how he had treated his retainers, the Count replied politely.

However, the other party listlessly pursed his lips.

“Is that so.”

At that reaction, the Count twitched his eyebrows and furrowed his brow.

It was a clear expression of suppressed anger, but he didn’t vent it.

‘Arrogant bastard…!’

The other party was Pinto, a merchant from Wallachia.

One might wonder how a merchant could be so arrogant to a noble, but he was an exception.

He was a major merchant who had received tax exemption on tariffs between territories with the guarantee of the National Assembly.

His foundation was as a merchant, so he had no territory or military power, but he had enormous wealth.

The balance of power in the north depended on whose hands this money was in.

And right now, a portion of it was in the Count’s hands.

He had to laugh off such rudeness.

“I will capture that brat myself. I will confiscate the territory.”

“Hmm. How about we bring that lord over to our side instead?”

“Absolutely not! My subordinate died. Not just a common soldier, but a knight! A knight was killed, and the lord stood by? I can’t forget that.”

The Count raised his voice and spoke clearly, but Pinto’s reaction was still listless.

Rather, his expression seemed to ask, ‘Is that really all?’

The Count cleared his throat and averted his gaze.

“Count, for a deal to be made, it must be clear who the human representative of the Great Plains is. The deal is only with one person. Only then can we sit in the same position as that person.”

Emphasis was placed on the words ‘that person’ and ‘same’.

The Count’s face briefly stiffened with tension before relaxing.

“Of course.”

“Then I will trust and wait.”

Pinto placed the teacup and saucer on the chair and walked out with a leisurely gait.

The Count glared at his back and clenched his hands on his knees.

‘You worm-like merchant. Who do you think you’re intimidating?’

The deal Pinto mentioned.

It was a business that the Count and Pinto were secretly planning.

The customers were other races, and the product was something that could not be spoken of.

For this special and exceptional deal, the Count had to become the representative of humans.

No one but me can represent the frontier, so they have to deal with me.

And that was the real reason why he had to conquer Ollymerus.

There’s a lord in the frontier, and that lord claims ownership of the entire frontier?

If left unchecked, he would either lose the frontier or there would be two representatives.

The Count had no intention of sharing the profits.

‘The owner of the frontier is only me. It’s a shame that Anton died, but if I can take Ollymerus and fend off Thurdret’s intervention, it’s a win.’

He gritted his teeth and smiled.

‘Just you wait. I’ll get out of this damn north and go to the center. Let’s see if you’ll be so confident then.’