Chapter 10: This Is All Food

Under the intimidation of the soldiers and the lure of copper coins, the previously stagnant population census suddenly became incredibly efficient.

The officials of the Earl's domain, responsible for recording information, only needed to place a chair at the designated location, and an endless stream of civilians would line up eagerly to register. There was no longer any need to knock on doors one by one.

For Old Ford, this was a huge relief. Now, he only had to patrol the registration sites occasionally, showing his face a few times.

In just three days, the population census was successfully completed. However, as Old Ford stood in front of a cart piled high with parchment, he couldn't feel happy at all.

What a waste!

His heart ached as he looked at the cart filled with precious sheepskin and cowhide parchment. His lord's desire to build a garden had already made Old Ford feel helpless, but now, this enormous pile of parchment made his head spin.

This is all money!

Parchment was not something easily obtained. The amount used in just one week was equivalent to the stockpile accumulated over several generations of Earls.

It was a shocking level of waste, and the worst part was that it had happened right under his meticulous supervision. Old Ford felt as if he had betrayed the previous Earl, who must be rolling in his grave.

But what was done was done. All he could do now was grimace as he led the soldiers escorting the precious cart back to the castle—only to discover that he couldn't even report to Bruno.

"My lord left the castle early this morning," a guard at the castle entrance reported. "He took Lopida and a few personal guards and servants with him. He said he'd be back in a few days."

"What? Where did he go?" Old Ford asked, startled.

"Seemed like he was heading toward the coast."

"What? Where did he go?" Old Ford asked, startled.

"Seemed like he was heading toward the coast."

"The coast? What for?"

"Lopida told the lord that there's a large amount of food at the coast, so he went to look for it."

Old Ford felt his chest tighten. The last time Shabi had accompanied the Earl outside the castle, he had come back with the outrageous idea of building a garden. Now, with Lopida by his side, who knew what grand and absurd plan his lord might return with?

At first, Old Ford had thought Lopida was an honest and reliable man. That's why, after Shabi left, he had recommended Lopida to serve the Earl. But now, he realized that this guy had somehow convinced the Earl to go looking for food at the coast…

Food? At the coast?

Everyone knew that the peasants and serfs living near the sea barely survived. They lived entirely at the mercy of nature, struggling daily to catch enough fish to stave off hunger.

Wait…

Could it be… that my lord actually plans to fish in the sea?

At that thought, Old Ford's body went cold, his legs trembling. His breath caught in his throat.

"Quick… Quickly… Go after the lord! Bring him back! The wind and waves at the coast are fierce—what if he gets excited and jumps into the sea?! The tides… What if the tides take him?!"

Before he could finish his sentence, Old Ford's legs gave out, and he collapsed in a faint at the castle gates, throwing the entire entrance into chaos.

On a small road east of Idar City, a group of riders moved at a leisurely pace.

"My lord, how could there possibly be food at the coast?" Lopida asked hesitantly, his voice filled with concern. "If Old Ford believes I'm the one who convinced you to come here, he'll surely have my hide when we return."

He had thought serving directly under the Earl would be a great honor. But now, barely a few days into the job, he had already found himself in serious trouble.

Bruno glanced at Lopida and said casually, "Don't talk nonsense. I'm the one who made this decision. Think about it if we actually find food at the coast, won't that make you the one who led me to a great discovery?"

But…"

Bruno shot him a look. "What? Do you want to join Shabi in waste collection?"

Lopida shivered and immediately straightened up. "No, my lord! I believe… the coast must have plenty of food!"

"Now that's the spirit. I'm a noble who listens to advice, after all."

"…"

Idar City was already located at the easternmost part of the continent. Traveling another 20 or 30 miles east would bring them to the long, sprawling coastline.

In this world, people's understanding of the ocean was extremely limited. Many nobles viewed it as nothing more than a natural barrier, a boundary they had no interest in crossing. They were content with the wealth that the land provided and saw no reason to explore the unknown potential of the sea.

Because of this, coastal villages remained desolate, and the peasants living there barely scraped by with primitive fishing methods.

However, this didn't mean the coast was sparsely populated. On the contrary, roughly one-fifth of Idar's serfs lived in these seaside villages.

Their primary occupation wasn't farming or fishing.

It was boiling salt.

Salt was an essential commodity for daily life, and the production and sale of salt accounted for the majority of Idar's tax revenue. It was the Stuart family's most important financial resource.

In many ways, salt was not just a seasoning—it was a precious resource.

A typical adult required 6 to 8 grams of salt per day to maintain their body's electrolyte balance and overall health. Without it, human survival became difficult.

It was only because of the massive profits from the salt trade that the Stuart family had been able to recover financially, despite Bruno's reckless spending.

As dusk settled, Bruno could see faint smoke rising from distant chimneys and the low, simple buildings nestled against the horizon. Spurring his horse forward, he raced toward the village.

Lopida and the guards quickly followed, kicking up a trail of dust behind them.

At the village.

An elderly man led the villagers in bowing before the young Earl. The trembling serfs threw themselves flat on the ground, too afraid to even lift their heads.

Bruno, not particularly concerned with formality, sat casually on the ground beside his attendants near a roaring bonfire.

The serfs had gathered the best fish they could find and presented them as tribute, while they themselves gnawed on black bread mixed with wild grass and sand, struggling through their meager meal before curling up to sleep.

Bruno stared into the fire, a bitter smile on his lips.

To these serfs, he wasn't a benevolent ruler he was a source of fear.

He took a bite of the freshly grilled fish but found no joy in the taste. Instead, he felt a deep sense of injustice. These serfs had never received the treatment they deserved.

"Hopefully…" he muttered, watching the flames flicker. "In a few days, they'll finally be able to eat their fill."