You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 27 Madness
After Gweil gave that answer, silence enveloped the dense forest.

After a while.

Roman said, "Witch, it seems I have won."

Gweil did not choose Shasta, nor did she choose him; instead, she chose this outcome.

But for Roman, this is a victory.

Shasta didn't know what to say; she was extremely dissatisfied with the result.

But what could be done? It was Gweil's own choice.

If she insists on forcibly carrying out her own will... let alone whether she can actually do such a thing, even if she does, Roman and Dick will join forces to stop her.

Even she couldn't ignore everyone in front of her at the same time.

"Looks like I made a wasted trip," Shasta muttered to himself.

She worked so hard for so long, only to end up with nothing. You can imagine how upset she was.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Shasta,” Gweil said, feeling very guilty.

Shasta glanced at Gweil, then closed his dark eyes, opening them to reveal a serene expression.

"Roman, I ask you, how do you intend to treat Geviel from now on?"

Roman stroked his chin, realizing that Shasta valued his answer highly. If she showed even the slightest dissatisfaction, Shasta would still forcibly take Gweil away.

She might actually have some status in the Witchwood; even if she couldn't summon the entire Witchwood, it would be normal for her to summon a few companions.

These witches' only goal was to take their companion away; they would not harm him as a nobleman.

And he couldn't possibly go to the church to tell them off.

The church and witches are idiots.

He hated papal knights even more than witches.

But the answer isn't complicated.

Moreover, this is a promise he should make.

Gweil did not choose to go with Shasta, but stayed in Sig Town. Roman felt obligated to arrange her future.

Therefore, Roman said, "Let us establish a noble pact! In the name of Rift Armor, I promise that Gweil will not suffer any form of persecution in my territory. Even if the Church discovers her existence, I will not compromise. I swear that I will unconditionally protect her for the rest of her life, provided she remains loyal to me and does not betray me, and that she will not suffer any disgrace or betrayal!"

These words moved everyone present.

A noble contract is a very special oath. The noble who writes the contract cannot violate its contents, otherwise the king will take away all his rights, power and status.

For the aristocratic class, violating the aristocratic covenant was worse than killing them; at least they would receive honor after death, while living would only result in being despised.

Shasta was also greatly surprised. This contract was far too generous and lenient for Gweil. It was not an agreement that a nobleman should make. It even mentioned that they would confront the church head-on.

"If you had made this promise sooner, I might not have fought with you for Gweil's ownership."

Roman scoffed. Can being coerced and doing it voluntarily be the same thing?
If he were to actually draw Gweil, in his view, this would only be a basic condition—he hadn't even promised to pay Gweil a certain amount of salary each month.

Roman didn't bother to answer, but simply said, "Do you want to help me with some work too?"

"You're overthinking it."

Roman clicked his tongue. He really hoped to recruit Shasta. "The witches are in a bad situation. The church's pursuers are making you hide everywhere. Why don't you stay with me?"

“That won’t be the case for long!” Shasta said coldly.

"Huh?!" Roman exclaimed, alert.

Shasta realized she had misspoke. She pursed her lips. "Anyway, just take good care of Gweil. If I find out she's been wronged, I won't let you off the hook."

Roman greatly admired the witch; to go to such lengths simply because they were of the same kind was, in any case, a testament to her loyalty and compassion.

He quite enjoys dealing with these kinds of people; you don't need to be wary of them.

"your name?"

"Shasta, the Nightmare Witch Shasta!"

Roman had never heard of this name.

That's normal. The Witch Forest is an underground organization, and like rats in the street, the more famous they are, the faster they die.

Roman smiled faintly and said, "If you have nowhere to go in the future, then come here. The premise is that you come secretly. I am not ready to confront the Church yet."

This made Shasta glance at Roman a couple more times, his expression quite strange.

Although the nobles and the church are at odds, it hasn't reached the point of wanting to fight each other. So why is this guy preparing to start a war with the church now?
It's probably something serious!
In any case, having multiple potential allies is a good thing for the witch.

She once thought that nobles and the church were birds of a feather.

In retrospect, that's not entirely true.

Of course, Shasta also knew that Roman, as a nobleman, was an oddity among oddities even on the whole land.

She thought of that legendary figure from 150 years ago, a man of great renown and unparalleled glory.

But she quickly dismissed the idea, thinking that perhaps the two shouldn't be linked together.

Because their statuses were vastly different, like clouds and mud, not to mention Roman, even if the Grand Duke of Cracked Armor came, he would have to bow down and submit.

Aaron had almost finished cleaning up the battlefield.

He approached Roman and whispered, "Three guards are dead and eight are wounded, four of whom are seriously injured, and one may not be able to continue fighting."

Including the situation at Garin's hut, the guards have suffered more than half of their casualties.

Roman was extremely dissatisfied with the quality of these guards, but he couldn't be too harsh on them.

Roman gazed at the distant mountains and forests.

"I wonder how things are going with Green."...

Meanwhile, Green was still on his way to kill Borg.

……

About forty or fifty years ago.

On the northern coast of the Black Iron Kingdom, a coastal town called Reef was invaded by Arctic pirates.

If we go back another hundred years, that is, 150 years ago, piracy was also rampant at that time.

At that time, the man later known as the conqueror stepped forward.

He pointed his sword at various nations, suppressed pirates, pacified barbarians, and defeated all the forces on this land. He fought his way to Igor, the pirate homeland of the North Ice, conquered it, and finally established the vast Black Iron Kingdom.

However, the era of that conqueror's rule eventually came to an end.

A century later, the pirates of the Arctic returned, but no second conqueror emerged on this land.

Rocky Town was one of the places ravaged by pirates. Unlike other places, the pirates from the northern icy sea regarded it as an outpost and supply point and lived there for quite a long time. During this period, the pirates also defiled many women.

One of the girls suffered the same fate after her family was killed, and gave birth to a baby boy ten months later.

And this child was named Borg.

In those difficult times, it was hard for a young girl to survive with an infant, so she had to use all sorts of means to support Borg and herself.

For reasons unknown, she did not abort or kill the illegitimate child, but instead devoted herself to raising him.

That young woman raised her first child.

Whether it was due to the pirate bloodline of the Arctic people or not, Borg had a strong vitality from a young age and grew up healthily.

When Borg was ten years old, this woman, who was not yet twenty-five, finally died from overwork.

The poverty of their lives meant that the mother could not leave her children any possessions.

After his mother's death, Borg lost everything, but he didn't show obvious grief and accepted it quite normally.

In the time that followed, he would find a place to sleep and steal food when there was none. He was the kind of person who was good at fighting and being fierce. This pirate nature was evident in his childhood, which caused his mother a lot of suffering.

Because of his fighting talent, Borg later joined a mercenary group and began a life of wandering and fighting. His combat skills and physical abilities steadily improved, and he killed more and more people.

He carried out various hired tasks day after day for ten years.

Strangely, despite his long-standing habit of killing, he frequently recalled his childhood memories as an adult.

This surprised Borg, who had never previously reminisced about his childhood.

This led him to believe that he had long forgotten everything from the past and would not be moved by anything.

That delicate yet resilient figure appeared more and more frequently in his mind.

Something hidden deep within seemed to have been unearthed.

At the time, he took it for granted. The experiences he had forgotten during his childhood, when he looked back on them as an adult, revealed that he gradually came to understand many things, such as the hardships of life, the weight of burdens, and the loving care of a mother.

As a child, he unknowingly experienced a dramatic change in his life, losing the person who was most important to him and loved him the most.

Yet he felt no sadness at the time.

This seasoned mercenary, a ruthless killer and part-time pirate, belatedly discovered all of this, and like an ox chewing its cud, an overwhelming sadness suddenly welled up in his heart.

Every time he thought about the past, the sadness in his heart would intensify, as if a surging tide was about to overwhelm him.

Many times, when he woke up from a dream, he could touch the dried tear stains on his face.

His comrades, however, mocked him as a coward who would cry for his mother in the middle of the night.

Borg was a mature warrior; he knew he was no longer fit to fight because he had become vulnerable, and his killing axe was no longer sharp.

He left his former living environment, came to the land, found a suitable piece of land, built a house, reclaimed wasteland, learned to farm, bought grain, and then settled down.

But the story is far from over.

What he saw were apathetic and suffering people.

They were starving, freezing, and destitute.

That thin, frail figure often appeared before his eyes.

Borg began to wonder why his mother had raised him with such difficulty when he was young, to the point that when she died, her body was like a withered, emaciated piece of firewood.

Why do farmers work themselves to exhaustion but still go hungry? Where does all the food they grow go?
When he witnessed a farmer's twelve-year-old daughter being taken away by guards to be enslaved on the plantation because the family was unable to pay their taxes.

Borg stared at the girl's figure, which seemed to overlap with the figure of his mother from the past.

But he did nothing.

He simply returned to his dwelling, rummaged through a wooden box for a long time, and used a stone to polish away the rust from the axe.

On that dark night, he sneaked into the noble castle and killed all the guards and the viscount who was lying in bed.

He took all his wealth and grain out in a wagon and distributed them to all the farmers in that land, instructing them to hide them well and, if anyone asked, to say that he, the great thief, had taken everything.

But things didn't go as planned. His supposedly foolproof scheme was still exposed by the discerning nobleman. Several farmers who had received money and grain handed over the stolen goods and, filled with righteous indignation, exposed the great thief's deeds to the nobleman.

As a result, all the remaining farmers who had not reported the crime were executed by the nobles.

The enormous gallows held one corpse after another, including the frail girl whose image overlapped with his mother's in his eyes.

The girl's unusually thin figure hung there, like a floating angel, her feet and tattered clothes swaying in the breeze, defiantly suspended for three days.

It was from that time that the notorious thief Borg went mad.

(End of this chapter)