Ingrad? Is That Something You Eat? A Noble… Me?! (2)

I could only keep my head down and stay silent through the whole meeting, and even after it ended I had to remain, awaiting the Empress’s summons.

My lot was a bitter one. The senior council had run long; I barely knew how the hours passed before I was ushered into a private audience with the Empress.

“Are you disappointed?”

“No, Your Majesty. I don’t even know where the Ingrad Domain is.”

“Ah… is that so? Briefly, it’s a harsh fief. And most of its population are suin—beastkin.”

Beckoning me to follow, she led me to a large map, pointed to a spot, and said:

“This is the Ingrad Domain. It borders the Forest of the Demon Dragon, and monsters are very common. But if you cultivate it well, it could become a great driving force for you.”

“What makes it so?”

“Herbs. The medicinal herbs from Ingrad test at least five times stronger than those elsewhere. And the Forest of the Demon Dragon is a forest only beastkin may enter.”

“Then… may I take this to mean you granted me a very good fief?”

“No. Its other name is the nobles’ graveyard.”

“…Why are you doing this to me?”

The Empress’s laughter boomed through the chamber. That hearty laugh only made her more infuriating—and then she said:

“With your remedies, the beastkin might accept you. If you truly can’t adapt, abandon the fief and leave.”

“…I’m allowed to do that?”

“I’ll issue you a formal writ—a letter of pardon. That will, in part, repay the grace I owe you.”

“Do you covet Ingrad, Your Majesty?”

“I do. It took a hundred years to bring it to heel, but once we made it ‘ours,’ we found it wasn’t truly ours.”

“So there was contact in the past…?”

“Yes.”

She wore a faraway look, but said no more.

“Do what you can do. You may leave at any time. Only—bid the princess farewell before you go.”

With that, she departed without another word. I still had no idea what was what—and wondered if they meant to dump a title and a fief on me with no other reward.

“Am I being sent there just to die?”

The thought weighed on me. An escorting knight returned me to my assigned room—where a guest, unannounced, was waiting.

“What brings you here?”

Agnes turned slowly at my question.

“You wrung out quite a lot, didn’t you?”

There was a teasing edge, though her eyes were gentle.

“A fair price. Not everyone can make medicine like that.”

“Indeed. Great skill deserves measured value. So—how does it feel to be a viscount?”

“…I feel nothing. It’s a shackle—uncomfortable.”

“Mind your tongue. That’s irreverent to Her Majesty.”

“She knows. She knows I’m ill at ease.”

“…I see. She’s very generous with you. I hear you’re headed to Ingrad?”

How long since the meeting ended, and the rumor had already reached Agnes? Then again, in the palace everyone probably knew. Long sessions meant maids came and went with tea and sweets; nobles even sipped tea before speaking. No wonder news traveled fast.

“If Ingrad is that barren, can I survive?”

“You might. You don’t seem the sort to discriminate.”

“Discriminate…?”

“The beastkin have been persecuted by humans for generations. Humans think only they possess dignity, and they excluded and harried other races. A sad history—as long as human history. No wonder relations are poor.”

“…And they’re sending a mere medicine-maker like me there?”

“We’ll provide initial settlement support. That’s why I’m here.”

“Don’t tell me—you’re coming with me, Lady Agnes…?”

“Hardly. But we will assign you five knights. Term: one year—enough to adapt. If Viscount Ingrad gains the beastkin’s trust, you won’t need them afterward.”

Unexpected support. I didn’t know how strong knights truly were—but Agnes was a knight who served the Empress, and five from that order for a year meant I’d likely be safe enough.

There was also financial support.

When she said two thousand gold coins, my eyes turned into ₩₩-signs. But Agnes deflated me by saying it wasn’t actually that much.

“Since I have a pardon… should I just grab the money and run?”

The thought flickered. In another country, two thousand gold might buy a splendid life.

And with the various medicines I could craft on the side…

I might live more than comfortably.

“Ingrad is a very important resource area for the Empire—but with low efficiency, it’s also a headache. If you run it well, it could be more profitable than any fief.”

“But that won’t be easy. That’s what you’re saying, right?”

Agnes smiled.

In short, it depended on me—and that meant it could also be a big opportunity.

Later, in my farewell with Princess Riana, I couldn’t help but marvel at how the burn scars on her face were vanishing.

I had made the medicine, yes—but I was still amazed to see the scars truly disappearing. She seemed to be applying the salve to other skin as well—her complexion was now alabaster compared to when we first met.

“You’ll be leaving now, won’t you?”

Riana’s face held quiet regret. In a month and a half, we’d spoken often—not about grand things, just small talk. She treated me as a grateful benefactor for healing her scars; that was all.

Given her gentle nature, it was surprising enough that she treated a Free Citizen like me so normally.

“By luck I received a title and a fief. Thanks to that, I now have somewhere to go.”

“Somewhere… to go?”

She turned the words over; I said:

“I don’t know how well I’ll do. But if life grows there, then it can be an opportunity for me as well. I intend to give it my best.”

“A fine resolve. I believe Apothecary—no, Viscount Ingrad—will do well.”

Amusingly, my viscountcy name had become “Ingrad.”

Normally, a new title came with a newly granted family name; this time, unusually, they gave me the name Ingrad itself.

I had a hunch the locals would be stubborn.

From asking around, I’d heard most nobles there went bankrupt or returned the land within a year, took a small indemnity from the Empire, and lived on as fallen nobles.

I was not immune to that fate.

I’d do my best—but I bore no prejudice against beastkin. To people here, the beastkin were “the Demon God’s dogs.”

They had once been neutral, but after sheltering demonkin in some past incident, they were branded “the demonkin’s dogs” and suffered long years of human contempt.

The majority punished for the few’s fault—perhaps. Because of it, they walled themselves off and built their own culture. The Empress must have been curious what I could accomplish there.

“To her, I’m an odd specimen…”

I sighed. Then Princess Riana asked me:

“They say they can sense the instinctive hostility of humans the instant they face it. As a people of nature, they’re sensitive to emotions. But I think you’ll be different, Viscount Ingrad.”

She was being far too kind—but praise is praise.

“Thank you for seeing me so well. Then… this is goodbye.”

“Thank you—and I’m sad. I wanted to talk more…”

“Even this private audience could stir gossip. Caution does no harm. I leave well treated. Thank you for everything.”

With that final talk, I set out for the Ingrad Domain. I had hoped for a leisurely journey—but the Empire over-accommodated me.

“Warp!”

With the mage’s ringing cry, the world inverted—and so did my stomach.

“Uweeegh!!”

Warp wasn’t something an ordinary person could handle. The theory said your body disassembled and reassembled at the target point—if something went wrong, you’d be scattered to pieces, wouldn’t you?

And I wasn’t the only one suffering where we arrived, beyond space.

The five knights who traveled with me were sprawled on the floor, groaning. I bit into a pill from my coat; it turned jelly-soft with a clear fragrance and slid down—my mana-restoring pill.

As my wrecked body regained some normalcy, I wondered if warp’s “side effects” came from unfamiliar mana or forces at the destination being forcibly imprinted during the reassembly process.

Just then—

“V-Viscount Ingrad, could we… have one of those pills as well?”

The knights looked up at me with shining eyes as I stood after taking one. It would’ve been a fine scene—

‘Maybe wipe the vomit from your lips before asking…? Are you that out of it?’

I was baffled. Later I learned I’d looked exactly the same…