Baron Forman startled even himself the moment the words left his mouth.
His heart had spoken before his mind could stop it.
He scrambled to recover, but a maid suddenly shouted.
“How dare you!”
The maid who had been clearing the dishes grabbed him by the collar.
“My lady, forget the plates—I should throw this out first. After all the care you took to feed him, this ungrateful fool dares to spout nonsense beyond his station!”
“Honestly! To say something so uncultured, so shameless, so utterly lacking in sense to our lady!”
One of the knights guarding the kitchen rushed over as well and declared dramatically,
“My lady, shall I behead him and wipe out his entire bloodline for this offense?”
Wait.
Wasn't this one of the northern mercenaries Alpheus had brought with him?
Why was he speaking exactly like the maids?
“The crime of daring to covet my lady cannot go unpunished!”
I wasn't coveting her!
Baron Forman opened and closed his mouth helplessly while Brisa spoke with perfect elegance.
“Yes, Philip. We certainly can't let him leave empty-handed.”
Throughout it all, the young lady's expression remained calm.
“It would be improper to send a guest away with nothing. Tell the kitchen to prepare some potatoes and radish sprouts for his journey home.”
Good heavens.
The moment he heard those words, another sentence escaped him without passing through his brain.
“Please! Become my grandson's wife!”
This time, neither the maid nor the knight became angry.
Instead, they exchanged a quick glance and quietly stepped back.
Later, when he was preparing to leave, they even packed potatoes, radish sprouts, and several eggs into a basket for him.
Standing by the door, they muttered softly,
“Our lady is kind to the mentally ill. Now I understand why she took you in.”
“She must've realized at first glance that he'd lost his mind... Ah, our poor lady.”
Baron Forman blinked slowly.
Then realization struck.
They were treating him as if he were insane.
He slapped his knee and burst into laughter.
“Ahahaha! What excellent jokes!”
Unfortunately, he was the only one laughing.
“Ahahaha... huh?”
He laughed again.
The maid and knight remained completely serious.
“...Ha?”
As he blinked awkwardly, the maid sighed heavily.
The burly knight named Philip shook his head.
“In this estate, we don't joke about insanity. Keep that in mind.”
Baron Forman frowned.
So they really thought he was crazy?
Lowering his voice, Philip whispered,
“At the very least, if you say something like that in front of my lady again...”
Clutching his basket of potatoes, sprouts, and eggs, Baron Forman unconsciously tensed.
He waited for the rest.
“...you won't get any potatoes.”
Good heavens.
His shoulders shuddered.
So she has a cruel side after all.
By now, he understood exactly how terrifying that punishment was.
Meanwhile, the maid and knight continued their conversation.
“Still... wouldn't it be nice if we had grain?”
“Yeah. I miss bread.”
“My lady says we'll have wheat soon, but... I have no idea where she plans to get it.”
Baron Forman's ears perked up.
“Exactly. Wheat can't even be cultivated right now. There isn't a single grain left in the central region.”
“But if it's our lady, she'll manage it.”
“Of course she will. She's the last bloodline of House Riente, speaks five languages, and graduated second in her class at the Academy.”
Even someone who spoke ten languages couldn't pull that off.
Baron Forman frowned and tilted his head.
Everything else was one thing.
But wheat?
That was impossible.
And yet...
For some reason, he felt as though that calm young lady might actually succeed.
"Soon?"
He swallowed unconsciously.
More than anything, he desperately missed the taste of warm bread made from wheat.
Ten days later.
Potato season had finally arrived.
Large, plump potatoes emerged from the soil in abundance.
“Wow... This one is literally the size of my fist!”
Every day they dug up more.
There was enough to feed not only everyone in the Marquis's estate but also the people of the territory for the entire month ahead.
Thank goodness.
Brisa let out a sigh of relief.
The truth was that even the people of the Sayers territory had not been eating particularly well.
But now that potatoes could be added generously to every meal, things would change.
At the very least, no one would go hungry.
Naturally, news of the bumper harvest spread all the way to Hawyn Barony.
The people of Hawyn secretly began trading with the refugees from Erenta who remained in Sayers.
As time passed, they grew increasingly jealous.
“All of this... Lady Brisa taught them?”
“Yeah. Apparently their chickens lay one egg every single day.”
Two months after being completely cut off from outside production, the people of Hawyn had begun stripping bark from trees just to survive.
Then the dark mages from the Kingdom of Sebon across the sea arrived.
They illegally established a warp gate connected directly to a port.
Their offer was simple.
Sell them people, and they would provide sacks of wheat.
“Good heavens. Those lunatics.”
Baron Forman clicked his tongue.
“With the Mage Tower unable to monitor them, dark mages are running wild. Taking advantage of starving people like this?”
But Baron Hawyn saw things differently.
He never mentioned it to Baron Forman, but he had already decided to sell the orphans of his territory.
His precious daughter, Dahlia, was growing thinner by the day.
“Father...”
Dahlia spoke weakly.
“I'm tired of dried corn. I want fresh vegetables... meat... things like that...”
“Yes, yes. I'll get some from the villagers. A little salt should be enough payment. Just wait.”
Baron Hawyn proceeded to seize supplies from his people's storehouses.
The grocers along Jezel Street still had decent stocks of preserved foods.
But after two months, even those reserves were nearly gone.
The corn stored in the baron's granaries was almost depleted as well, thanks in part to the dairy cows that had consumed so much of it.
Everyone knew the warp network would likely be restored within another month.
But the thought of each approaching meal filled them with dread.
There's no other way.
The neighboring territory of Count Joachim was relatively prosperous.
Unfortunately, monsters infested the mountains and hills separating them.
Communication was impossible.
That left only one option.
“Go to Sayers and steal some.”
Upon hearing about the potato harvest, Baron Hawyn finally gave the order.
“Bring back a few sacks, quietly!”
The attempt failed before it even began.
Knights were guarding the potato fields.
When the servants returned empty-handed, Baron Hawyn exploded.
“...Then at least ruin them!”
“B-But the knights are guard—”
“I see.”
The baron took a deep breath.
“Set them on fire. You may not be able to steal the potatoes, but surely you can burn the fields and run.”
That very night.
Several people from Hawyn Barony slipped toward the potato fields under cover of darkness.
Good heavens.
Baron Forman heard about it only afterward and jumped to his feet in shock.
Can that man even be called human?
It wasn't as though he stayed in Hawyn because he liked Baron Hawyn.
He was merely a guest there because Hawyn's lord was older than Brisa.
But still...
Could he continue staying in the estate of such a vile creature?
He knows full well that his people are surviving by secretly trading for those potatoes!
Destroying the fields meant eliminating one of the only food sources available in the region.
...No. This man has gone too far.
He had never intended to interfere in the affairs of the central territories.
Yet Baron Forman's eyes turned cold.
Only for a moment.
Because all of his influence, all of his connections, remained in the west.
Just wait one month. Once the warp network is restored...
But for now, he possessed nothing except his own body.
He quickly changed into shabby clothing, pulled a hat low over his face, and hunched his back like a common old man.
Then he ran toward the potato fields.
He had to warn them somehow.
But no matter how desperately he ran, an old man's body could move only so fast.
He was already far behind Hawyn's servants carrying torches.
To avoid being discovered, he also had to take hidden paths, making the journey even longer.
No... no!
By the time he arrived, gasping for breath, the sight before him made him freeze.
The potato fields should have been swallowed by darkness.
Instead, countless torches illuminated the night.
And among the flickering lights stood a young woman with a cold, composed face.
...Brisa Sayers?
Baron Forman stopped dead in his tracks.
How... how did she know?
