Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

The high-altitude air was chilly.

Nefarian stretched his wings, gliding smoothly above the clouds and leaving the sprawling mountain ranges and forests far behind.

Velin sat in the saddle, his coat whipping in the wind.

A short distance behind him, a thick, sturdy rope stretched from the back of Nefarian’s saddle, tied securely around the waists of Ola and Ryo.

Ryo’s eyes were closed as he focused on maintaining a pale cyan shield of air that enveloped both him and Ola.

They were like kites, being "towed" through the sky by Velin.

"By my old man’s battle-axe! I’ve had enough!"

Ola’s roar was twisted and distorted by the wind.

"This feeling of having my feet off the ground is making my bile churn! Ryo, can’t you make this thing any steadier?"

"Lord Ola, I’m already doing my best." Ryo’s forehead was beaded with sweat. "The Floating Technique requires a constant output of Mana. Between you and your full plate armor, you weigh almost as much as a small Ogre."

"Bullshit! For a true Dwarf Warrior, weight is proof of strength!"

Ola struggled in mid-air, causing the shield of air to wobble violently.

Ryo let out a muffled grunt, his face turning a shade paler.

"Velin, are you sure the territory will be okay with us just leaving like this?" Ola changed the subject, his tone still complaining. "That stubborn ox Barrett and old Walker... put the two of them together, and I bet they’ll be at each other’s throats in a few days."

"They won’t fight," Velin said without turning around.

He had Nefarian slow down slightly.

"Before we left, I established a provisional council and had the scribes at the Lord’s Mansion document it."

"Old Walker is in charge of civil affairs—the people and the provisions. Barrett is in charge of military matters—the weapons and the walls. Valerius is responsible for all projects at the research institute."

"If an irreconcilable conflict arises between Old Walker and Barrett, Valerius has the final say. The three of them will keep each other in check and maintain the balance."

Ola had to think for a while before he could roughly grasp the intricacies of the arrangement.

This system of checks and balances was far more complex than his "might makes right" philosophy.

「Two days later.」

A magnificent city appeared at the edge of the horizon.

Seen from above, the city looked as if it had "grown" out of the mountainside.

Most of it was embedded in the mountain itself. The exposed parts, built from massive, heavy stones, gave it a low, stout appearance.

Countless huge smokestacks, like fingers pointing to the sky, spewed columns of black smoke.

The columns of smoke converged above the city into a persistent, lead-gray cloud that blocked out the sun.

This was the Free City of Stone Oath.

The trio landed on a platform within the city. Velin’s status as a Baron was enough for the guards to clear a path for them and courteously check Nefarian into the stables.

Afterward, Ola led the other two to Bolin’s smithy.

Velin promptly paid the two thousand two hundred and fifty Golden Suns in full, much to Bolin’s surprise that Ola had returned to settle his debt so quickly.

He sized Velin up repeatedly, marveling at the Baron’s immense wealth.

After the uncle and nephew had a brief reunion, Velin proposed making Bolin a steady arms supplier for the Grey Marsh Territory.

Bolin readily agreed and promised to offer them a discount.

With their business concluded, the party left Stone Oath City and continued toward the Royal Capital.

As night fell, they passed through a small town and decided to rest there for the evening.

However, a scene in the central town square caught their attention.

Seven men were kneeling beneath a newly erected gallows.

They were bound with ropes, dressed in patched-up coarse cloth, their faces numb with resignation.

An official stood on a high platform, loudly proclaiming their crimes.

"...These men banded together as thieves, plundering merchants and travelers! Their crimes are unforgivable! By order of Lord Gelan, they are sentenced to hang, to serve as a warning to others!"

A wave of suppressed sobs rose from below the platform.

"Hmph! A bunch of scum disturbing the peace!" Ola spat disdainfully. "Death is what they deserve. Saves us from wasting food on them."

Ryo, however, looked on with pity.

"Lord Ola, look at their hands... They’re covered in calluses from holding farm tools. They look more like farmers driven to desperation than actual bandits."

"So what if they’re farmers? Does that give them the right to rob people?" Ola retorted. "If you turn to robbery just because you can’t survive, then what’s the point of having rules!"

"But what if the taxes were so heavy they couldn’t possibly survive?" Ryo argued back.

"If following the rules means starving to death, then what’s the point of those rules?"

"Paying taxes is a natural duty!"

As the two argued, Velin, who had been observing in silence, finally spoke.

"This isn’t a matter of bandits versus civilians."

"It’s a problem with the system."

"The... the system?" Ola asked, confused.

Velin pointed to the official reading the list of crimes, then to a respectable-looking Lord’s Mansion in the distance.

"A lord needs his territory to create wealth for him, not to kill people, correct?"

The other two nodded silently.

"Ola, tell me, what good does it do Lord Gelan to hang them?"

Ola paused, then answered as if it were obvious, "It maintains order in his lands and deters others who might want to cause trouble."

"Very good." Velin nodded. "And what are the downsides?"

"Downsides?" Ola was stumped. In his mind, there was no downside to executing criminals.

"They were originally farmers," Velin answered for him. "When they die, the lord loses people to work the land and pay taxes. To catch them, try them, and hang them, the lord has to pay his soldiers and officials. So, the lord loses laborers and spends extra money besides."

"It’s a losing proposition."

Velin looked at Ryo.

"Ryo, tell me, what have these men gained?"

"They... they’ve gained nothing. They’re about to die," Ryo said in a low voice.

"Yes. They’ve lost their land, their families, and finally, their very lives."

Velin looked away, his tone calm.

"You see? The lord loses, and the farmers lose. It’s a lose-lose situation."

Ola and Ryo were both stunned.

They followed Velin’s line of reasoning and realized he was right.

"Then... who wins?" Ryo murmured.

Velin’s gaze passed over the crowd to the ruddy-faced official on the platform who had read the verdict.

"In the Haidi Duchy, a lord will typically collect twenty to thirty percent of a freeman’s yield per acre, plus a shield tax, a property tax, and so on. They also collect a ten percent ’Tithing’ on behalf of the church. That adds up to a tax burden of about fifty percent—which is enough to bleed a farmer dry, but they can at least survive."

"But there’s always loss in tax collection."

"The official tells his tax collectors to collect extra, to account for ’losses’ during transport."

"The tax collector tells the village elder to collect even more, because some farmers can’t pay and their share must be made up by others."

"By the time you get to the local officials, they might be collecting sixty or seventy percent. Don’t pay, and they’ll break your legs."

"In the end, the farmers hand over their entire harvest and still can’t survive. To stay alive, they have no choice but to turn to robbery. And so, they become ’bandits.’"

"And the lord sits in his castle, wondering why tax revenues are down this year, and why there are more and more bandits in his territory."

Velin paused, as if giving them time to think.

A gust of wind swept past. The ropes on the gallows let out a CREAK as the seven men were pushed from the platform, their bodies convulsing violently as they swung in mid-air.

"The real winners are the parasites feeding on this corpse—the ones who bear no responsibility for the land, yet can rip off huge mouthfuls of its flesh and blood."

"It’s the officials and tax collectors, big and small."

Watching the scene unfold, Ola and Ryo were rendered speechless.