Two days have passed since we returned from the Duke's domain.
I'm only too happy to finally be away from that dreadful excuse of a palace.
Somehow, a rumor started spreading among Gerhart's entourage: that I'm a freak.Yes. Me. A freak.
Apparently, the fact that I drank most of them under the table and walked away sober is... astonishing.Well, I can't help it if their booze is embarrassingly light, can I?Sure, it was tasty—but it barely had the punch of a mild soda.Still, to them, I'm now some kind of wizard with an insurmountable amount of mana or divine resistance.Honestly, I couldn't care less.
These veterans are some of Gerhart's most trusted allies—battle-hardened, long-serving, and loyal.All of them are lowborn, just like Gerhart himself. Which means: no nepotism. That's a good start.
There's Ziegler, an ex-mercenary commander. Taller than most of us—except Gerhart, of course—with the kind of face you'd associate with a debt collector in my world. He's loud, commanding, and surprisingly good at keeping his men in line.
Then there's Karl—a rotund, jolly fellow who's shockingly fast for his size. I keep seeing him dashing around camp, always in pursuit of something to eat.He seems to know everyone and everything that's going on.I like Karl.
And last but not least: Franz.
A grumpy old man with only one real passion in life—gossip.He knows everything about everyone, and never stops complaining about them.He's surly, opinionated, and impossible to please. But somehow, he's also our most efficient and detail-oriented planner. He mapped out our entire travel route to minimize costs to the silver.He reminds me a lot of Honda-san from Finance.I can already imagine them sitting side-by-side, sipping tea and eating senbei, grumbling about "the wasteful habits of today's youth."
In Tharros Vale, my job revolves around writing. Which means, lately, I've been doing absolutely nothing. There is nothing to write.
So, I spent most of my time in the library. Just reading. Out of boredom, I started browsing their records—only to find what looked like a financial report. Or rather, a joke pretending to be one.
The place has no income. No taxes. No exports. No trade guilds. No tolls. No tourism. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
I sprinted straight to Gerhart's chamber. He was chatting with Franz.
"Ah, if it isn't the unquenchable beast," Gerhart said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes. Franz just stood there, arms folded, unreadable as always.
"How do you make money around here, Sir?" I asked bluntly.
Gerhart shrugged. "War bounties, of course. We get three out of ten shares from every victory. The rest goes to the Crown."
Of course. Spoils of war. Very sustainable.
"And do you plan to wage any wars soon?"
"No. We fight only when we're attacked."
Perfect. We are definitely screwed.
"I've seen your treasury. It's bleeding faster than Karl goes through his evening meals. What happens when it dries up?"
"I take a loan from the Crown. He's generous."
Generous. Right.
Like a loan shark is generous before he sends someone to break your knees.
"Have you thought of taxes, sir?" I asked Gerhart.
"Why, not in a million years, Leo!" he barked with the confidence of a man proudly announcing he's never brushed his teeth. "I don't want to rob people. I'm no thief, you see? I want my domain to be a just and happy place where everyone can enjoy the fruit of their labor!"
"A fine sentiment," I said dryly, "except right now, everyone is enjoying the fruit of your rapidly shrinking treasury. Which technically makes you the only laborer here."
Franz snorted. "Bah, taxes! In the old days, the baron would just send his men to collect ten chickens, three sacks of wheat, and one reasonably attractive daughter."
"That's not a tax, that's extortion with bonus kidnapping," I said.
"It worked!" Franz argued. "Kept the books simple. You know how many accountants we needed? Zero."
"How many people revolted?"
"Also zero."
Karl popped his head in from the hallway. "Because they were too poor to afford pitchforks!"
I turned back to Gerhart. "Look, taxes don't have to be theft. They're just a way to keep the lights on. Or in this case, the walls standing and Karl fed."
He frowned. "But… it feels wrong. Why should a man who worked hard be punished for it?"
"That's why you make it progressive."
"Progressive? Like a disease?"
Where did he even learn about progressive disease?
"No, like this," I said, grabbing three loaves of bread off the table. "Say Karl here bakes bread. If he has one loaf, he keeps it. If he has three hundred loaves and ten ovens and five employees—then we ask for ten loaves so the rest of the village doesn't starve."
Karl raised his hand. "Can I still keep two hundred and ninety?"
"Yes."
"Deal."
Gerhart scratched his chin. "But how do we know who has three loaves and who has three hundred?"
"You don't. That's why we hire people. We write things down. We create a system. It's called... governance."
Everyone stared at me like deer caught in a flashlight. Or in this case, reindeer.
I pressed on."We'll record what everyone in the realm owns, then take from them according to their means. In return, they get our protection, annual reports on tax usage, and full transparency on where the money goes."
Franz raised an eyebrow."And how are we going to spend it?"
"Education. Healthcare. Infrastructure."
"A what?" He blinked like I'd just cast a forbidden spell.
"Infrastructure, Franz. Better roads, better irrigation, cleaner water, safer houses. Basically, things that make people's lives less terrible."
Gerhart nodded slowly."That sounds... fair. More work for us, but it's work for them. They pay us to serve them."
Sometimes I'm amazed how Gerhart's naive sense of justice accidentally lands him on the right side of history.
"In order to do this, I'll need your help." I stood up."Franz, you look like you're good with numbers. Follow me to my office. Karl, you too."
"What's an office?" I heard Karl mutter behind me as they shuffled along.
A few days later, after frantic brainstorming, bread-fueled debates, and one too many arguments with Franz over ink prices, I finally had something.
I called a small meeting in the hall. Gerhart arrived with his usual half-curious, half-suspicious expression. Franz brought a book. Karl brought snacks.
I took a deep breath and began."I present to you: The Tharros Vale Equitable Taxation Charter."
Blank stares.
I cleared my throat."This... is a way to build a just and happy domain. Without looting, without debt, and without overworking Karl."
Karl raised a thumb, mouth full of cheese.
I drew the first parchment and pinned it to the board.
"Civic Intelligence Acquisition. A registry. We collect information on every household: how many people, what they do, how much they produce. Voluntarily at first—trust builds trust."
Second parchment."Tiered Socioeconomic Segmentation. We sort the populace into three tiers: those who barely survive, those who earn enough to live, and those who thrive. The first pays nothing. The second pays a fair portion. The third supports the realm more, but still keeps most of what they earn."
Franz squinted. "Define 'fair'."
"Enough to feed their neighbors, but not to rob their futures."
Third parchment."Fiscal Accountability & Stakeholder Disclosure. Every year, we report back what we collected and how we used it. Education, water systems, public kitchens, free medical tents—"
Gerhart suddenly raised a hand, eyes wide."Wait. You mean... if someone's child is sick, we could send a healer... paid by the realm?"
"Yes."
"And roads... repaired before they break?"
"Yes."
"And nobody starves in winter?"
"That's the idea."
Gerhart was silent for a long moment. Then he stood. Walked slowly toward the parchments. Read them again. Touched one with the back of his calloused hand like it was holy scripture.
"This..." his voice cracked, "this is it. This is what I always wanted, but never knew how."
Franz coughed into his sleeve. Karl offered a piece of bread to everyone, solemnly.
Gerhart turned to me, his eyes glassy."Leonhart... thank you. This is not theft. This... is hope."
Well. I didn't expect to make a grown man cry over spreadsheets today, but I'll take it.
"Gentlemen," I began, pacing in front of the fireplace like some unholy fusion of a medieval scribe and a Silicon Valley consultant, "today marks the founding of the Fiscal Management and Revenue Optimization Bureau of Tharros Vale—or FIMROB for short."
Franz narrowed his eyes. "Sounds ominous."
"Good. People respect ominous."
I slapped a parchment onto the table."Here's our org chart. First tier: Intelligence & Data Procurement Division—led by our soon-to-be Head of Civic Intelligence. Their job is to collect, verify, and update the socioeconomic profile of every village and trade guild. Think of them as census officers, but with more charm and less teeth."
"Second tier: Revenue Collection and Compliance Department. They'll oversee tax bracket assessments, facilitate payment processing, and ensure that no one's baking three hundred loaves without reporting it."
Karl looked nervous.
"Third tier: Financial Planning & Treasury Operations—Franz, that's your turf. You'll monitor cash flow, manage expenditures, and submit quarterly budget reports to the Executive Council."
Franz blinked. "We have a council?"
"We will."
Gerhart, who had been suspiciously quiet, finally spoke."And what about the people? How will they know this isn't just another fancy scheme to bleed them dry?"
I handed him a scroll."The Public Transparency Initiative. Open ledgers. Town hall reviews. Annual reports simplified for common folk. We'll even publish infographics."
"Info-what?"
"Colored drawings that explain where their money goes."
Karl clapped. "I like colors."
Gerhart stared at the scroll, then at me."I never thought running a realm would look like... this."
I smiled. "Welcome to governance, Sir. We're open for business."