Reincarnation of a Hunter Chapter 40.1 - Adding Fuel to the Fire

Following Canada (Maple Syrup) and incense, the compass also became a hit product.

The compass, in particular, had high added value, and since it was a product I, the lord, personally ordered, a significant portion of the sales revenue was incorporated into the budget.

 

Thanks to this, the relocation of the settlers from Cagliari proceeded smoothly.

However, due to the sheer number of people arriving, the move had to be carried out in stages.

 

In my office, I received a report from Pascal, the chief of civil affairs, on the status of the new settlements.

“…And, my lord, we’ve received a complaint from the village chief of Comansville.”

“Is there some inconvenience?”

“Yes. The distance to the new village site is getting farther, making the commute difficult.”

 

Since farmland is needed between villages, they are being built at some distance between them.

With so many villages being constructed, it’s inevitable that they’re being placed farther and farther away.

“There’s no helping it. Send them horses and carts. And tell the chief to ride a golem for travel.”

The 10-meter-tall Wood Golem is an excellent means of transportation. With its long legs, a golem running through the forest is faster than any other vehicle.

“Riding a golem sounds fun.”

“As long as they don’t smash their head into a tree branch.”

“Hehe, I’ll make sure to warn them.”

 

I also received mail and letters from other territories.

“A letter has arrived from Countess Laurian of Westphalia.”

“Finally.”

“Were you expecting this news?”

“It’s a letter demanding Chloe’s return.”

“Ah.”

Pascal, being from Westphalia, had a rough idea of the situation. I began reading Countess Laurian’s letter.

[To Eric,

Return Chief Maid Chloe to us. She is an indispensable talent for our House of Westphalia. As chief maid, she excelled in managing the staff and handling the estate’s finances…

—Laurian of Westphalia.]

 

Even though it was rude, knowing Laurian’s usual personality made it somewhat expected. 

 

However, the lengthy explanation detailing why Chloe was needed was uncharacteristically verbose for Laurian.

 

“Desperate, aren’t they? The new head maid must be quite incompetent.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“Did you get word from the herald?”

Pascal is the son of the herald of Westphalia. Since they exchange letters, he must have heard something separately.

 

“Yes. My father’s letter was practically a lament. He said Countess Laurian and Lord Noah have been increasingly meddlesome and demanding.”

The reason was that Chloe had been handling far too much work.

Though her title was head maid, she was effectively the chief secretary to the countess, who held real power.

 

“But why did you wait for a letter requesting Chief Chloe’s return?”

“Just because. It’s amusing, isn’t it?”

Even if I’m not a bad person, there are times when ‘another’s misfortune is my happiness.’

 

“Hehe, that is quite satisfying.”

“Funny. Don’t you care about your father struggling?”

“Well, if he gets dismissed as herald, I told him to just move here.”

 

Surprising. Pascal’s family has served as heralds for generations.

“Dismissed?”

“They’re purging the administrative officials. One by one, they’re leaving.”

“It hasn’t been long since they swore their oaths of loyalty.”

 

“Exactly. Apparently, they’re appointing officials based on personal recommendations.”

Pathetic. Even noble ruling families can’t manage their territories entirely as they please. The support of the semi-noble class is essential.

Arbitrarily replacing officials will only accumulate resentment among the entire semi-nobility.

 

“If resentment keeps building, it’ll explode at some point. Why are they being so short-sighted?”

“Countess Laurian has quite the temper, doesn’t she?”

Right. Considering Laurian’s inherently emotional and hot-tempered nature, it makes sense. But if Chloe had been there, she would have soothed and persuaded her to hold back.

 

‘Bringing Chloe back was the right move. Who knew things would start collapsing like this?’

 

Of course, the County of Westphalia holds formidable power. In particular, the steadfast strength of its knightly order is second to none among all other territories.

It’s just slowly crumbling, that’s all.

Now, the only one who can control the havoc wreaked by the Laurian mother-daughter duo is the former Count.

‘Who knows how long the old Count will keep cleaning up their mess? Popcorn-worthy, really.’

 

Around Westphalia, packs of hyenas lurk, waiting. Watching them take bite after bite will surely be an entertaining spectacle.

A laugh escaped me at the thought, and my sinister expression made Pascal flinch.

 

⚔️

 

Finally, Daniel Salamanca, former Vice-Director of the Inquisitorial Office in the Holy See of the Glorious God of Abundance, was inaugurated as the Bishop of the Marseille Diocese.

There was no grand welcoming ceremony, but the territory’s people were gathered in Marseille’s plaza for a large-scale prayer session.

Tens of thousands filled the square, and Bishop Daniel, looking quite pleased with himself, stepped onto the stage erected in the plaza.

Soon, Daniel used a voice-amplifying magical tool to recite the prayer,

 

“To the glorious God of Abundance, we offer this prayer. I, Daniel Salamanca, Bishop of the Marseille Diocese, humbly present my praise.

O God of Abundance, bestow upon us your bountiful blessings.

Grant prosperity to the lacking, wealth to the impoverished, rest to those in suffering, and light to those shrouded in darkness.

Share with us the joys of abundance, the richness of plants and animals, the earth and the sky.

Bless our labor and toil, and grant strength to all who sow seeds and reap harvests.

With gratitude and praise, we offer this prayer. O God of Abundance, answer our plea.

May I, Daniel Salamanca, Bishop of the Church of the God of Abundance, walk the path of prosperity under divine guidance and the Pope’s protection.”

 

A prayer that emphasized only his own name, devoid of any concrete aspirations or promises.

A vague, feel-good prayer—typical Daniel.

‘How very Daniel-like of him.’

 

Contrary to my stifled laughter, the crowd filling the square roared in cheers, exalting the God of Abundance.

 

“Blessings of Annapurna!”

“Long live the God of Abundance! Long live Marseille!”

“Please grant me a girlfriend!”

 

Leaving the deafening cheers behind, I stepped down from the stage and shook hands with Daniel.

 

“Bishop, I leave the diocese in your care from now on.”

 

The tone was as if addressing a subordinate.