Arvind smiled, sipping the tea again. Her husband had once ventured into becoming a merchant—that alone was courageous. Traveling roads teeming with danger, not knowing whether you'd be welcomed or become someone's lunch... It wasn't just business. It was survival.
He leaned back, stretching his legs, soaking in the quiet punctuated by birdsong. Somewhere deep in memory, his mother's voice echoed:
"Arvind… Living is about embracing uncertainty—and having hope."
The words eased the weight on his shoulders. Clarity returned.
Maybe this is what life is.
He chuckled and shook his head.
How long had it been since he truly rested? Since arriving, problems had come like a flood. At times, he'd nearly given up. But he wasn't alone anymore. People depended on him. He had responsibilities now.
Almost a week since we arrived. Let's settle things properly—then I'll rest.
He stood, energy returning, and entered his study.
Rolling open a fresh parchment, he grimaced.
Ugh, I hate this smelly thing. Just wait, I'll replace you with proper paper someday.
His eyes scanned the document—his decision was made.
Let's forgive some of the guards.
They hadn't crossed the line yet. If they truly meant to rebel, they would've struck already. And besides, he understood the power of coin. Even presidents could be bought in his past world.
It wasn't rebellion—it was his indecision that had invited chaos. Maybe it was naive to show mercy. But he knew people. Opportunistic, yes—but also easily pacified when shown real power.
His gaze paused on another line.
Aldric's list…
He couldn't reverse it now. To do so would undermine his authority—and Aldric's. A lord who changed verdicts like shifting wind wouldn't command loyalty.
He reached for the pendant his mother had given him and shut his eyes.
I'm sorry.
Then he straightened, knocking softly on the desk. Anika entered.
He handed her the parchment.
"Give this to Aldric. Before the executions begin."
Anika bowed solemnly and departed.
---
The knights stood by the one who had fainted the day before, now conscious but empty-eyed.
A younger knight stepped forward, voice shaking as he read aloud:
"The crime of inciting rebellion among the guard members.
As guardians of Ravengarde, we must eliminate unstable elements that threaten the peace of the land."
From the crowd, a voice rang out:
"Kill him! He stirred chaos!"
Aldric, off to the side, smiled faintly.
Good. The crowd's prepared for next...
The knight continued:
"For the peace of Ravengarde, we hereby execute the ringleader who defied the will of our benevolent lord."
Steel whispered.
SWING.
A single arc, a clean strike. The head dropped with a thud. Blood pooled across the platform.
The scent of iron soaked the air.
Crowd silence. Trembling. Numb awe.
Civilians, previously critical of the lord, now cursed the dead rebel as if trying to distance themselves from the bloodshed. How quickly fear rewrote loyalties.
---
By the time Arvind arrived, the gallows were still wet. The crowd was stiff, silent.
He stepped up beside Aldric. The commander saluted.
"Ten executed," Aldric said evenly. "The rest will undergo reform."
Arvind's stomach twisted. Still, he nodded.
This was the moment. The silence was oil. All it needed was a spark.
He cleared his throat.
"For the families of the executed—wives, children—they bear no guilt. From the castle treasury, I will provide aid. They will not be left to starve."
The crowd shifted. Whispers sparked.
He continued.
"Tomorrow, I will reward those who have remained loyal to Ashford and Ravengarde. I've entrusted Bramir with organizing the list. The reward will be fair—and public."
A pause, then cheers erupted. Blood was already forgotten. In this world, tragedy was fleeting. Life moved forward. Always forward.
Never again, Arvind vowed, hand clenching as he stepped down.
He called Bramir and Eldrin over.
"You heard what I said. Collect the names. No shortcuts. Be thorough."
Bramir puffed his chest with pride. "Leave it to us, my lord."
Arvind nodded, but quietly…
I still don't trust you. This is your test. Let's see what kind of men you are.
He turned and left the stage.
The gallows, as per Aldric's orders, would remain standing another day—fear had to linger.
---
The seasoned knight who had performed the execution stood silently nearby.
"You're incredible," a fellow knight whispered. "I wouldn't have had the guts."
The older man gave a faint smile.
Too old to become a junior knight now, but experienced beyond most.
"I've seen worse," he said quietly. "Killing isn't glory. It's survival."
He glanced toward the dispersing townsfolk.
"…Will they really learn anything from this?"
No one answered.
Aldric remained silent. There was a reason nobles clung to fear.
The next day,
Arvind met Bramir and Eldrin in the hall. Both were breathless, faces flushed with pride.
"My lord," Bramir said, barely able to contain himself, "we didn't waste your trust. The names have been compiled." He handed over the parchment, ink still fresh.
Arvind scanned it. Ten names. Nothing seemed out of place—neither overreaching nor suspicious.
He passed the record to Faelan, who stood at his side.
"Good work," Arvind said. "With this kind of diligence, I'll take your two requests more seriously in the days ahead."
Loyalty untested by adversity was still loyalty. And in a world where even magic couldn't speed up bureaucracy, this was fast.
Bramir trembled with excitement. Eldrin gave an eager wave. Both bowed deeply and departed.
Arvind chuckled softly.
"My lord," Faelan said, "I've cross-checked the list and allocated the rewards as per your instructions." He presented the revised parchment.
Arvind reviewed the details and nodded—then added more land to the reward total.
Most of it's unused anyway. Better to assign it than let it rot. If we're lucky, it'll generate income.
"That's enough. Prepare a stage in the town center. I want everyone to witness this. It's time they met their baron properly."
In my past life, I saw it all the time—win the people, and everything moves smoother.
---
Afternoon
The streets buzzed with anticipation. Vendors passed drinks. Children weaved through crowds. Joy hung in the air like a scent—bright and alive.
Arvind stood behind the stage, heart pounding.
Then he met Shankar's calm, steady gaze. It grounded him.
He stepped forward.
"Greetings. I am Arvind Hale, your new Baron."
His voice rang out clear.
"From this day forward, I vow: Ravengarde—and your lives—will change. Peace and prosperity will no longer be fantasy."
No reaction yet. Just quiet listening.
No matter. Time to move quickly.
"Enough words. Here are the names of those being rewarded today for their loyalty and contribution."
One by one, names were called.
Faces in the crowd lit up in disbelief.
Men stood frozen. Families burst into tears. Mothers gripped their children. Hope painted itself across their features.
Envy sparked too—whispers and glances. Eyes reddened.
Arvind took it in. Then smiled.
"I hereby grant two acres of land to each of you. These will be yours. Officially recognized by the castle. All I ask—reclaim and cultivate them."
A pause. Then—
"Also, you are now commoners. No longer serfs."
The gasps were audible.
Even if they'd lived like commoners for years—unmarked, unchained—they'd never been recognized. The difference was monumental.
Tears broke freely. Some hugged their wives. Others bowed so low their heads touched dirt.
Even the civilians who came with Arvind looked on with envy. Many of them were still branded serfs, even if technically free. Being a commoner was risky—you could starve—but it meant dignity. Choice.
Serfs survived only because their lords needed labor. Commoners could live.
Arvind watched it all, heart tight.
I hadn't realized the weight of these class walls… Maybe I can tear them down. One day.
He raised his voice while the crowd was still hot with emotion.
"From today, all the messy taxes—head tax, marriage tax, and so on—are abolished."
Gasps.
"From now on, taxes will be based only on land use. The more you harvest, the more you contribute. Simple."
A long silence. Then—
Cheers.
Real cheers. No fear in them. Only stunned, rising joy.
"And one more thing: Every religion is welcome in Ravengarde. Whatever your god, the castle will recognize and protect your faith."
He let the words sink in. Then finished:
"A better future lies ahead. Let's build it together."
The crowd erupted.
Not with timid claps. But wild, genuine celebration. It swept through the streets like sunrise—soft at first, then blazing.
Hope bloomed. Dreams that had been buried deep in frost were now flowering in open air.
Arvind exhaled.
And then—
A strange, cold voice echoed in his mind.
"System loading complete..."
He blinked. Looked around. No one else reacted.
Only I can hear it.
A small smirk formed at the corner of his lips.
His eyes swept across the crowd, finding each of his anchors: Bramir. Faelan. Aldric. Shankar. Anika.
---
That Night
Ashford pulsed with life. Firelight flickered down alleys. Laughter bounced from walls. Celebration ignited every corner.
Tonight, they would fulfill one more promise—Mother Earth's blessing.
Everyone came. Children who had once wandered aimlessly. Adults too tired to hope. Townfolk, civilians, even foreign believers from the Church of Light.
No one complained.
Not even the faithful who prayed to Almighty Dues.
Open flames roasted meat—generous, oily, fragrant. Some people wept as they ate. Others stared in disbelief at their full plates.
Many hadn't tasted meat in months.
Children ate until their bellies swelled. Then ran, laughing, to grab seconds.
For one night, it didn't feel like Ravengarde.
It felt like a kingdom reborn.
A dream, long delayed, had finally arrived.
And its name... was Arvind Hale.
On the stage,
Arvind waited quietly.
The elder of the MotherEarth faith stood before him, draped in moss-toned robes, staff in hand. He danced in a slow circle, whispering chants only the land could hear—low, rhythmic, ancient.
When he finished, he stepped forward, brushing his sleeves and smiling gently.
"Great is MotherEarth," he said. "I see change in this land. It rejoices... but also rots from within."
Arvind frowned slightly, caught off-guard by the cryptic words.
Then, the elder produced a charm—a circular green crystal that shimmered faintly with nature's energy. He pressed it into Arvind's hands.
The moment Arvind touched it, a soothing wave coursed through him. Fatigue dissolved. His mind cleared. Thoughts sharpened like glass beneath water.
He shuddered at the sensation.
The elder only smiled and nodded.
"Take it. This is what MotherEarth offers her chosen."
Arvind bowed his head slightly, still shaken.
Is the divine really this powerful...?
Cheers erupted again as the crowd raised their cups high. Servants rushed to refill food. Firelight danced across smiling faces.
"My lord really worked hard this time," Faelan said, turning to Aldric with a rare grin. "I saw King Arthur in him."
Aldric didn't answer immediately. He drank quietly, eyes unreadable.
Faelan chuckled softly.
"Yes, he still makes mistakes... Still struggles with doubt... But that's called growth. I trust him more now."
He raised his cup in silent toast.
Aldric sipped in silence. But behind his eyes, something had shifted.
---
As the night wore down, and the last fire faded into ash, Arvind finally collapsed onto his bed.
A real breath.
For the first time since arriving, he opened the system properly.
A soft blue light bloomed before him.
"System loading…
Detecting life energy imprint… Complete.
Welcome, Arvind Hale."
A transparent panel unfurled.
---
SYSTEM PANEL
Name: Arvind Hale
Title: Baron of Ravengarde
Core Modules:
Status
Aetheric Level: 0 (Knight)
Assessment: Too weak. Host must train.
L.E. and P.E.: Healthy
Talent: Mediocre (Too stable. Like a stone.)
Territory
Region: Ravengarde
Population: 2,300
Threat Level: Very High (Needs urgent attention)
Resources: Running low (Land potential: Massive)
Morale: Mixed (Ravengarde needs your light to spread)
Infrastructure Projects: None
Progression: Locked
Talent Enhancement: Locked
Simulation Core: Locked
System Store: Locked
---
Arvind grinned.
All the dread from earlier? Gone.
Who can stop me now?
"So... 2,300 people," he muttered. That probably included the civilians who came with him.
If Ashford has around 900... there are still villages I haven't even found.
Then his eyes dropped to the Threat Level.
Very High.
No surprise. That's why nobles avoided Ravengarde like plague.
He moved down eagerly—Talent Enhancement... Locked. Damn.
Still, his fingers curled with excitement. He hopped off the bed and punched the air.
The sky is within my palm. I'll fly everywhere.
He calmed himself. Time to check the System Store.
It mentioned something about "Aetherion coin."
So I need magical resources to convert into currency? Robbery. This is a deliberate difficulty setting.
Just then, a soft chime.
"Host, there is a novice gift package. Would you like to open it?"
"Yes!" he replied instantly.
"Congratulations. You have received:
— High-yield wheat seed (x6 sacks). Yield: 4x indigenous variety."
Arvind's jaw dropped. He burst into laughter.
Thank you, System Dad. You know exactly what I need.
His gaze shifted to the side—six golden sacks rested quietly in the corner, glowing faintly.
We can harvest this year. We'll survive.
He laid back again, mind buzzing.
His thoughts drifted to the city—no, the city hall. He chuckled.
Why not? Let's call it that. One day Ashford will become a true city. I'll see to it.
He closed his eyes.
There was still much to do:
— Restructure the guard.
— Reinforce Aldric's loyalty.
— Begin noble reforms.
— Elevate Bramir and Faelan's roles.
— Integrate townfolk and civilians.
But not tonight.
Tonight, he rested—not as a lost Reincarnator.
But as a baron.
And tomorrow?
Ravengarde would rise.