Red Maple Town was a prosperous town. As one of the three wealthiest towns in North Shire, apart from the North Shire capital, it was far more bustling than any town in the territories of Viscount Macbeth, lord of Giant Stone City, or his subordinate nobles.
Despite this, Baron of Red Maple had never built a castle of his own. According to the Kingdom's laws, hereditary knights among landed nobles were already permitted to build castles and recruit up to a hundred private soldiers to protect their territories and resist enemy invasions.
The Kingdom of Selt's greatest enemy was not the powerful nations of the continent eyeing its lands, but the savage Orcs on the northwestern plateau. In addition, there were several spatial rifts within the Kingdom that led to the Abyss, allowing small groups of evil creatures to pass through. As a result, the Kingdom of Selt had always maintained a formidable military. Even its basic forces included powerful heavy infantry legions and cavalry mounted on fierce northwestern thoroughbreds. And that was not to mention the Kingdom's three great legions, its strongest military force, which were every bit as formidable as the elite armies of other nations on the continent.
It was hard to imagine that Selt, a remote kingdom in the continent's Northern Lands, could possess such formidable military strength. That might have been one reason why the various powers on the continent, though keenly interested in its lands, had never found an opportunity to invade.
However, the whole of North Shire faced little threat from the Orcs. Only at Bloodstone Fortress in the far west could they be seen. So this baron believed there was no need to spend a fortune building a castle in Red Maple Town.
This was also because the House of Red Maple had originally been a family of merchants. For most nobles, especially those of knightly origins, the first priority upon acquiring a territory was not figuring out how to make money, but how to protect and secure their domain.
The Baron of Red Maple had held his title for only two generations. The family had previously been no more than country gentry and had never produced a knight, so they had no particular attachment to castles. Over the years, they had built only a villa in the center of town to serve as the lord's residence, and both barons had preferred to live on their manor estates most of the time.
By contrast, both Barons of Red Maple had attached great importance to commerce in their territory. To attract investment and convince people that Red Maple Town was safe, they had spent large sums of Gold Sol reinforcing the outer defenses of the town and its villages, to protect them against the occasional magical beasts that strayed out of the forest.
It had to be said that their approach had worked. In just over a decade, the fine crops and premium wine produced on the manors of Red Maple Territory, its sweet maple sugar, and the vast magical beast resources supplied by Green Cloak Forest had helped many of the territory's residents grow wealthy. Red Maple Town had become North Shire's richest commercial town after Goldshire.
This way of doing things had earned the baron plenty of mockery from the nobles of North Shire, who called him a nouveau riche merchant with no trace of noble bearing. Yet they all clamored for the goods Red Maple Town produced.
Red Maple Town's layout reminded Donald of the commercial cities of his previous life, and he quite admired it, though he did not entirely agree with it. In a peaceful and prosperous era, such a town would surely bring its lord great wealth. But in times of chaos, it would inevitably become a target, a juicy prize everyone would fight over, with no real means of resistance.
And even without a war, such wealth was enough to invite envy. Without sufficient strength to protect it, it was practically an invitation for outsiders to come and plunder. If his life ended up in someone else's hands, what use would a house full of gold be?
Donald did not know what the lord was thinking, but if it were up to him, he would first build up his military strength and secure control of his territory before doing anything else.
At that moment, Donald was riding in a carriage, looking out the window. The lively sights along the way passed clearly before his eyes.
The trip from the residential district where he lived to the baron's manor outside town took only a few minutes. Donald had not given Baron of Red Maple's invitation much thought, and had brought no one besides Clinton.
He wore only a newly tailored, ordinary noble's suit. Apart from the apprentice badge on his chest, two rings on the fingers of his left hand, and a walking stick laid across the carriage seat, he wore no other adornments. Compared to Sir Jesse, who seemed eager to trim even his coat hems with gold, Donald looked exceedingly plain.
The carriage soon arrived at the Baron of Red Maple's manor outside town. A middle-aged man who looked like a butler stood waiting at the manor gate.
Donald had a vague recollection of him and knew he was the Baron of Red Maple's butler, Mr. Krien.
Back when the old Donald had fallen on hard times, he had seen this butler from afar around town a few times, so he knew of him.
Having his butler wait outside to receive him suggested that the Baron of Red Maple both took Donald seriously and looked down on him a little. According to the noble etiquette of this world, it was perfectly proper and not at all discourteous for a noble to send his butler to receive a visiting noble, regardless of their titles. But that applied to nobles who already knew one another, or were even on friendly terms. When two nobles of similar rank were meeting for the first time, the host was expected to put aside whatever important business he was attending to and greet his guest in person, as a sign of respect.
The Baron of Red Maple obviously did not consider Donald Melina his equal. Donald's status as a fallen noble also made him look down on him, so he had sent only his butler to greet him.
Donald did not particularly care about the slight. When he made a name for himself, the baron would be the one looking up to him!
As they passed through the wealthy vineyard estate, Donald discreetly observed its condition.
He saw that the estate was enclosed by sturdy wooden walls three meters high, built in several thick layers. They were enough for a hundred militiamen to hold off an ordinary army of several hundred, and would also provide good protection against some of the more cumbersome magical beasts.
It seemed this merchant baron was not as indifferent to military strength as people claimed. At the very least, he had heavily fortified his vineyard estate, his greatest source of income.
Led by the butler, the group soon reached the splendid villa at the center of the estate, where they met the Baron of Red Maple seated in the host's chair.
Donald still remembered a little about the Baron of Red Maple, an old acquaintance of his father's. Compared to the other people who had kicked the family while they were down, this shrewd old nobleman had been fairly decent. But later, when the baron had shown no intention of helping them, their relationship had simply come to nothing.
Donald approached the middle-aged nobleman, who had slightly thinning hair and dressed like a merchant, and bowed first.
"Sir Ernest, I've come to visit, as you invited me!"
By rights, Donald should have called him uncle, but he simply could not bring himself to do so for this self-serving noble.
"It's been years, and little Donald has grown into a fine young man! How I miss those wonderful times when I used to hunt and socialize with your father!"
The merchant noble was warm and enthusiastic in response to Donald's attitude. Had this been the old Donald, he might well have been swept up in the man's emotional appeal and fond recollections, gradually falling under his sway.
Though Donald was not very good at dealing with people, the convictions he had formed in his previous life remained firm. A few affectionate reminiscences from the man did nothing to change his opinion.
When dealing with people who cared only about profit and were willing to sell almost anything, it was best to talk business and nothing else. Once you let your feelings get involved, you were the one who would end up hurt!
"Indeed! Speaking of which, I should thank you for helping us ten years ago, Sir Ernest. You helped us settle in town. Otherwise, I might not have survived to this day, much less achieved what I have now!"
"Oh, there's no need to mention such a small kindness between our families. To celebrate your certification as an Apprentice Mage, Donald, I've prepared a banquet for you later. It'll be just family, with no outsiders, so there's no need to feel constrained. Make yourself at home!"
Seeing Donald's cool, distant manner, Ernest, the Baron of Red Maple, realized that his approach had not won over the young man. It seemed that even as an apprentice, anyone capable of becoming a mage was no ordinary person.
But the middle-aged merchant was undeterred. If anything, this only proved that the young man was worth spending a great deal to cultivate a relationship with.
While preparations were being made for the midday banquet, the Baron of Red Maple showed Donald his most prized asset: the winery.
But the brief tour did not give Donald much useful information. Since he now had a manor of his own and wanted to set up a profitable business, he was somewhat disappointed.
Back in the villa, the Baron of Red Maple sat and chatted with Donald, naturally steering the conversation toward Donald's recent major undertaking.
"I heard you bought those two manors in the northwest of my territory?"
Donald answered honestly, "Yes, Sir Ernest. Becoming a mage takes a great deal of money, even for an apprentice. If I had a steady income right now, I could advance to a full-fledged mage at once. So setting up a business is a necessity."
The middle-aged merchant furrowed his brow, looking concerned, though a flicker of delight passed through his mind as he said, "As I understand it, things didn't go well for my neighbor in Red Maple Territory decades ago. Many people say that the former barony, now reduced to two manors, is cursed land. Anyone who takes possession of it is doomed to misfortune, and the previous owners all met with miserable ends. If you need funds, little Donald, you can tell me. For the sake of my late friend, I won't stand by and do nothing for you."
Donald looked seriously at the man before him. After a few seconds of silence, he smiled and said, "Curses are one of the branches of magic. They're a specialty of sorcerers who excel at spellcraft. If there really is a curse, I won't fear it. At worst, I can ask my teacher, Messer, to deal with it personally. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to lift a curse from the Kingdom's lands!"
"As for asking you for help, Sir Ernest, I certainly will if the need arises!"
"Oh? My dear little Donald, you and Master Messer..."
The middle-aged merchant had seen the boy fall silent and thought he had taken the bait, and was considering whether to accept his patronage. But the boy's words immediately startled him! As North Shire's Number One Mage, Master Messer held a status no lower than that of Viscount Macbeth. Ernest had only ever spoken with him twice, and had never had another opportunity since—not to mention getting to know him or becoming his friend. If this young apprentice had a close relationship with the master, then he was no ordinary person that anyone could afford to offend!
The more Ernest thought about it, the more alarmed he became. Meanwhile, Donald smiled and replied, "I became an apprentice after the master personally tested and certified me. He appreciated my modest talent for the path of magic, so he took me on as his apprentice! This ring is one of the gifts my teacher gave me. I'm deeply grateful for his help and guidance!"
Only then did Ernest, the Baron of Red Maple, take a closer look at the ring and walking stick he had previously assumed were mere jewelry and accessories. The more he looked, the more he felt that each one seemed to radiate a mysterious power.
Though this local noble had power and wealth at his disposal, he knew very little about the mysterious mages. And it was not just a minor baron like him—even His Majesty the King of Selt knew only what was written about mages and other spellcasters in the royal library.
But though the Baron of Red Maple did not understand the ranks of magical items, he knew their value very well.
After all, he was a famous wealthy noble in North Shire. Setting aside the crystal chandeliers in his home, he owned only three magical items. Two were household tools used to light the kitchen fire and keep food cool and fresh. The only defensive item he owned was a protective charm, which he had bought from a Black Iron Mage for more than a thousand Gold Sol. Even if he had the money, he had no way to purchase some of the higher-level magical items. And if he attended an auction, he could not bid freely for fear of the influence wielded by the great nobles.
In truth, the reason was that the Baron of Red Maple had been a noble for too short a time. Families of long-standing nobility generally possessed heirlooms accumulated over generations, both valuable and rare in their uses.
The conversation soon came to an end. The diligent servants of the Baron of Red Maple had finished preparing the banquet, and everything was ready.
Seeing that he could get no useful information from Donald, the middle-aged merchant smoothly invited him to join the feast.
Donald knew quite a bit about noble banquet etiquette. After all, he still remembered the noble education he had received as a child. Though his family had lost its territory and fallen into decline, the elders of House Merlinar had never given up on educating their heir, right up until their deaths.
Once both parties were seated, the servants brought out the first appetizer.
It was beef tenderloin marinated with tart wild berries, served with a small Thorn Bird Egg.
A small dish of fragrant, savory beef tenderloin had been marinated for half an hour in the juice of several tart-sweet wild berries. Its rich flavor, with a hint of sweet and sour, was enough to whet anyone's appetite. Beside it sat a boiled Thorn Bird Egg, translucent and white. It had no seasoning at all, yet the egg's natural flavor was already smooth and delicious.
A Thorn Bird was a bird about the size of a quail from Donald's previous life. People here usually ate its eggs, which were about the same size as quail eggs, though a little rounder. Thorn Birds were numerous, but nimble in flight and often nested high up, making their eggs difficult to obtain. Since they could not be raised in captivity, the eggs had always been expensive.
Thorn Bird Eggs were coveted by nobles. Usually, three cost one Silver Moon, equivalent to a poor family's food expenses for an entire month. Donald had only started eating them during the time since he had come to this world and activated the Book of Truth.
Spices were rare and expensive in this world, and only the nobility could enjoy them regularly. But the varieties were limited, which had made it very difficult for Donald to adjust when he first arrived, after being accustomed to the rich cuisines and flavors of his previous life.
Donald had no fondness for the Baron of Red Maple, but that did not stop him from enjoying the food his host had provided. However, before the second course had even arrived, the banquet's pleasant atmosphere was interrupted by the sudden arrival of an uninvited guest.
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