Episode 3: The Way of the Villain

After parting ways with Sarah, I spotted a white-walled building atop a hill in the distance. That must be Gessler’s governor’s mansion.

“Pretty lavish for a mere governor’s residence, isn’t it?”

Gessler’s mansion was a three-story structure with a garden, entirely built from white bricks. Compared to the ramshackle buildings in the villages I’d passed through, its grandeur stood out starkly.

“Oi, you! What’re you doing?!”

A guard stationed at the gate noticed me and called out.

“This is Lord Gessler’s mansion! A filthy peasant like you has no business gawking at it!”

“Oh…?”

The corner of my mouth twitched upward.

“‘A filthy peasant like you,’ huh…?”

“What, you got a problem? Scum like you peasants are a different breed from us!”

The guard stormed toward me and swung a heavy oak baton, striking my face with full force.

“Haha, I was just itching for a fight! I’m gonna beat you to a pulp, you peasant trash!”

“Heh heh heh…”

“Huh?! What’s so funny?!”

“Oh, nothing. Just admiring your textbook small-fry villain act. Looking down on those beneath you, throwing your weight around with violence… it’s so perfectly lowlife villain behavior.”

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the guard’s ideal small-fry villain performance.

I love villains. My favorite kind is the towering, formidable ones, but I give proper respect to small-fry villains too. After all, it’s the existence of small fries that makes the grand villains shine.

“No, really, I’m thrilled. Meeting a small-fry villain like you… it’s genuinely delightful.”

“What’d you say?! You mocking me?!”

The guard tossed his baton aside and drew the sword at his hip. Without hesitation, he lunged to cut me down. A peasant’s life must be no more valuable to him than an insect’s.

“For a small-fry villain, a fitting small-fry defeat is in order—such is the duty of a true villain.”

As I muttered, I moved faster than the guard could swing his sword, driving my fist into his chest. A classic straight punch. But not just any punch. Magic gathered in my fist, a pale blue light flickering. In that instant, the air trembled, and a shockwave erupted from my outstretched fist.

“Guhagh!”

My punch tore a hole through the guard’s armor, sending him flying toward the mansion. He crashed through the gate, smashing into the mansion’s wall and shattering the bricks.

“Well done, guard. By being defeated by me, you’ve fulfilled your role as a small-fry villain splendidly. I’ll give you that. Small-fry villains are indispensable as stepping stones—and, well, you’re not listening, are you?”

The guard was completely unconscious. And despite the deafening crash of the wall being destroyed, no one emerged from the mansion… which likely meant Gessler was out.

“Perfect timing. Guess I’ll let myself in.”

I kicked down a different wall from the one the guard had destroyed and stepped into Gessler’s mansion.

“The study… this must be it.”

I climbed to the second floor and opened the door to Gessler’s study. After pulling a few books from the shelves, I finally found what I was looking for.

“As expected… the real ledger.”

In my hands was a ledger detailing crop yields and tax revenues for the Markt region under Gessler’s governance. The numbers recorded there differed drastically from those reported to the Kreving Count family.

“Just as I thought. Crop yields haven’t actually increased—they’ve been gradually declining. Yet tax revenues have risen because the tax rates on peasants have been steadily raised… And what’s more, Gessler’s been skimming quite a bit for himself.”

Gessler had hiked the tax rates on peasants and siphoned off a portion of the crops for himself. This mansion was likely built with the profits from that scheme.

“Well, well. I had my suspicions, but… Gessler, you’re quite the scoundrel, aren’t you?”

I stuffed the ledger into a sack. As I exited the mansion, I heard the neighing of horses. Approaching the sound, I saw a middle-aged man on horseback, surrounded by several other men.

“The one on the horse… is that Gessler?”

I’d met Gessler two or three times at the Kreving Count’s estate. A long, drooping mustache and a bald head with hair only on the sides… no doubt, it was him. I slipped into the shadow of a nearby tree to observe.

“My, my, the hospitality at the Lamotte Trading Company was something else, wasn’t it?”

A man standing beside Gessler spoke up, addressing him on horseback. Gessler nodded with satisfaction.

“Well, to the folks at that company, we’re prized clients, after all. They’d naturally put effort into their hospitality. Kahaha!”

The Lamotte Trading Company… if I recall, it’s a mid-sized merchant guild operating in this region. Being “prized clients” likely means they’re the ones Gessler’s been funneling the crops he’s extorted from the peasants to.

“Still, I’m a bit worn out from all the fun. Time to head back to the mansion and take it easy…”

“Lord Gessler!”

Suddenly, a middle-aged couple burst out in front of Gessler and his men. Their clothes were tattered, and their shoes had holes.

“Who the hell are you?!”

Gessler glared at the couple.

“We beg your pardon for our rudeness! But we’ve come today to plead with you, Lord Gessler!”

“Please, we implore you! Could you lower the land rent, even just a little…?”

The man and woman both dropped to their knees before Gessler.

“What’s that you say…?”

Gessler snorted, clearly displeased.

“Lower the land rent?! Don’t get cocky, you peasant scum!”

“B-but, at this rate, we can’t survive! Please…!”

“Quit your whining! …Oi, hand me the whip.”

“Yes, sir!”

The man beside him passed Gessler a whip—a massive one, easily two meters long. Gessler raised it high.

“This is your punishment for daring to talk back to me!”

Gessler swung the whip down. It sliced through the air with a sharp whistle, aimed at the couple… but before it could strike them, I caught it with my hand.

“Y-you! Who are you?!”

Gessler’s voice was a mix of shock and rage as I stepped out from the shadows and stopped his whip. Ignoring him, I fixed my gaze on him and asked,

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“W-what, you say…?”

“That’s right. You were about to hurt this couple, weren’t you?”

“So what?! Listen here! I’m the governor! I can do whatever I want with these peasants!”

“Are you an idiot?”

I shot Gessler an icy glare.

“A governor is merely someone appointed by the lord to manage the land. The true ruler is the lord, and you’re nothing but a petty official. The only one with the right to harm this couple is the ruler—me. Don’t you dare lay a hand on what’s mine.”

“W-what’s yours?! What nonsense are you spouting, you peasant?!”

Gessler yanked at the whip, but my grip on its tip was far stronger, and it didn’t budge.

“L-Lord Gessler!”

One of the men behind Gessler shouted.

“A-a carriage is approaching!”

“A carriage? So what?!”

“W-well, sir… the crest on the carriage—it’s that of the Kreving Count family!”

“What did you say?!”