The Arrogance of the Transmigrator

By the end of the day, Ye Wei'an had not only spent all five thousand gold coins in cash from the auction but had even dipped into his own pockets for an additional fifteen hundred.

Yet, from the perspective of profit, this was a remarkably worthwhile "investment."

Four years ago, when he left home, he was nothing more than a penniless bastard.

Four years later, having returned to Firefall Territory for less than three days, he had transformed into the "Just" and "Merciful" figure praised by every mouth in the populace.

As merchants traveling the streets and townspeople visiting friends and family spread the word, these titles would soon echo throughout the entire Firefall Territory.

The best part was that in the entire affair, he hadn't spent a single copper of his own—in fact, he had made a killing.

The entire cost had been footed by Lady Selina.

The lady had painstakingly plotted an assassination against him, only to lose her own pawns and have Ye Wei'an follow the trail to swindle a massive sum of money from her, using her own purse to buy the hearts of the entire town.

She had lost all the industries she had managed in Firefall Town for years, only to personally forge a formidable rival whose reputation was now at its zenith.

Early the next morning, when Ye Wei'an prepared to depart, Firefall Town erupted with unprecedented enthusiasm.

The grocery store owner responsible for processing the spoils of war gave him the highest possible valuation.

When replenishing supplies, the local grain merchants and blacksmiths took the initiative to lower their prices.

When Cain went to recruit laborers, the strong men scrambled to the front of the line, fighting for the chance to help Ye Wei'an's guard for free, even if it meant just pushing a grain cart.

After the procession set out, countless townspeople carried their own cheese and smoked meat, insisting on stuffing them into the soldiers' hands.

Some even spontaneously picked up their pitchforks and hunting bows, silently following behind the column.

Along the way, the massive, sprawling procession of well-wishers seemed endless.

The people cheered and sang praises, braving the scorching sun to see them off for seven or eight miles. It was only after Ye Wei'an ordered them to return several times that they finally stopped at the crossroads outside the town, watching with lingering reluctance as the flag embroidered with the Three Gold Stars on Blue faded into the distance.

Even after the column vanished at the end of the forest road, one could still hear people whispering prayers, hoping that this merciful heir to the lordship would receive the blessing of the Morninglord, Lathander.

The soldiers were deeply moved as well.

This was the first time they had ever received such treatment.

In the past, when they traveled to the countryside as the lord's guard, they were usually met with eyes full of fear and evasion.

The farmers would have preferred to hide their grain and their daughters in the cellar.

But now, they walked among the crowd with their heads held high, holding the dry rations the people had spontaneously pressed into their hands, and looking at those eyes filled with awe and gratitude, they felt a sense of honor as soldiers that they had never known before.

Inside the carriage, Ailian listened to the cheers fading behind them, her small face flushed with excitement.

She couldn't help but lift the curtain to take one last look, exclaiming, "Young Master, this scene... I fear even if the Baron himself were to tour the lands, it might not be like this? Everyone is treating you almost like an emissary of the gods."

"To achieve this, I only spent a small portion of the assets confiscated from Gray Crow," Ye Wei'an leaned against the cushions, his expression indifferent. "Commoners are actually the most simple and easily satisfied people. Before they are pushed to the brink of despair, as long as you leave them a tiny sliver of a way to survive, let them fill their stomachs, and live a few days of peace, they will be eternally grateful to you, even willing to die for you."

Ailian tilted her head in confusion, her large eyes filled with bewilderment. "Since it's so easy to earn their love... then why don't the Baron, or those noble lords we saw in Suzar, want to do the same?"

"Why would they bother?" Ye Wei'an let out a cold laugh. "They possess sturdy plate armor, sharp swords, and a professionally trained knight can easily slaughter dozens or hundreds of commoners. They also have the aid of magic and divine spells... Since they can seize everything through violence, why would they waste time 'pitying' ants?"

Ailian stared blankly at Ye Wei'an, and after a long while, she muttered in a low voice, "Young Master, I feel that your attitude toward other nobles... is truly strange."

"Oh? How so?"

"It's just..."

Ailian twisted her fingers, trying to find the right words. "I feel that from the bottom of your heart, you look down on them. Before, whether you were mentioning the local lord of Firefall Town or a great family like the Amarisk, your tone was as if you were evaluating a group of... idiots."

"Why should I look up to them? Let alone the Amarisk, even the Obarskyr are nothing more than that in my eyes."

Ye Wei'an once again stated something that terrified Ailian with a calm face.

The Obarskyr were the royal family of Cormyr!

Ailian opened her mouth in shock. "But... but they have established so much glory! They built such a powerful nation, established laws, and guarded the prosperity of the territory..."

She began to count off the history of Cormyr like a treasure trove: "The great Azoun II slew the terrifying Purple Dragon and laid the foundation for Cormyr; the 'Martyr' Azoun IV crushed the Tuigan nomadic army and saved Faerûn; Azoun V perfected the legal code and clarified the obligations of the nobility; and there is the 'Sage' Vangerdahast, who personally established the formidable War Wizards..."

"And so what?" Ye Wei'an interrupted her, a trace of mockery appearing in his eyes. "They did indeed build a nation, but after that, relying on the power they held, they treated it as capital to be exploited at will. I am no saint; I also like to accumulate wealth and crave power. But what I find laughable is that in this world full of magic, miracles, and infinite possibilities, those rulers who hold transcendent power only use it to scrape the land."

He sat up straight and pushed aside the curtain to look at the people in the distance who were gradually turning into black specks.

At that moment, the arrogance Ailian was so familiar with appeared in his eyes once more:

"Honestly, this group of so-called noble families is not even as good as the ancient Netheril in my eyes. Even though Netheril ultimately failed and nearly destroyed the entire world, at least those arcanists once attempted to carve out a path unlike any other. They explored the Astral Plane and tried to look the gods in the eye, rather than like this group of people today, who sit on a gold mine but spend their time picking up scrap metal."

Hearing the word "Netheril," Ailian was startled and quickly reached out to cover his mouth, even glancing nervously outside the carriage.

"Young Master! You must never say such things outside!"

In Cormyr, these words were extremely "politically incorrect."

As one of the most powerful nations on the continent of Faerûn, the greatest enemy of the Purple Dragon Kingdom today was the ghost of that ancient magical empire—Thultanthar.

When the Netheril Empire was destroyed, Thultanthar happened to be conducting planar research in the Shadowfell and luckily escaped the catastrophe.

To survive in the desolate Shadowfell, these survivors turned to the mistress of the Shadowfell, the Goddess of Night, Shar.

A century ago, when this floating city returned to the Prime Material Plane, these people, who styled themselves the orthodox descendants of Netheril, began a frantic southward expansion with the support of Shar.

And the greatest obstacle standing in the way of their hegemony was precisely Cormyr.

To pluck out this thorn in their side, the arcanists of Thultanthar once unleashed terrifying destructive magic, pouring torrential shadow energy upon Tilverton, a strategic stronghold in the Eastern Marches of Cormyr.

Thousands of elite Purple Dragon knights and tens of thousands of civilians were torn to shreds on the spot; the once-prosperous fortress was reduced to a ruin entangled with shadows and plague, remaining a forbidden zone for the living to this day.

From that moment on, Netheril became synonymous with a blood feud for the people of Cormyr.

As a subject of the kingdom, openly praising that evil empire was no different from glorifying a demon.

"Look at how scared you are." Ye Wei'an watched the little maid, who looked like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bow, and gently pulled her hand down to comfort her. "Don't worry, I'd only ever say something like that behind closed doors with you."

Though he said as much, these were indeed Ye Wei'an's true thoughts.

Especially during these two days in Firefall Town, he had witnessed firsthand how the so-called noble families colluded with local thugs to bleed the common folk dry.

This rotten, inefficient, and shortsighted method of governance clashed violently with the education he had received in his past life.

In his view, this group of people was utterly unworthy of the word "ruler."

Do not be fooled by his fraternizing with those local thugs over the past two days; that was merely a means to accumulate his first pot of gold.

Once he possessed his own territory, he would absolutely never tolerate such parasites within his lands.