I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 28 Viscount Revion (1)

On the outskirts of the Farrow Estate. Near Lake Baitan, crops in the farmlands were ripening. A road through the Farrow Plains saw an army composed of 10 knights and 50 soldiers, marching around a splendid carriage.

The carriage was adorned with gold, and the knights were all armed with plate mail and long swords, products of immense wealth. The soldiers wielded spears and wore light armor made from ogre leather.

Viscount Revion Bitan looked out the window at the sight of his domain, his interest piqued. He had been displeased about investigating a mere baronial family even before his visit, but seeing it in person, things seemed somewhat different.

“Stop the carriage for a moment.”

“Yes, milord!”

Squeak!

The carriage door opened, and thick legs were the first to touch the ground. Eyes sunk in flesh looked like buttonholes, and the layers of fat glistened with sweat.

The opulent attire ill-fitted the wobbling belly, the cumbersome body, and repulsively striking appearance. Because he could barely move on his own, knights had to support the viscount from both sides.

Given the grand procession, even the subjects of the Farrow Estate knew that a noble had visited. While a noble from another domain couldn’t easily harm the people of Farrow Estate, violating the noble law would be a different issue.

Farmers working the land bowed deeply, pressing their foreheads to the ground.

“Sir Asti, did you not say the Farrow Estate was steeped in poverty?”

“I had heard so, yes.”

“Look around us. Does this look like the project of a poor estate?”

The southern wall was being expanded.

The fact that they were extending the wall not in the north, which could be considered the front lines, but here, indicated that Farrow Estate was undergoing a fundamental improvement.

As the lord of a domain himself, Viscount Revion knew all too well how costly it was to expand and repair the rear area walls. The subjects continuously carried stones up to the wall, and craftsmen were busy filling in the gaps.

The war slaves were being worked quite harshly. Beyond the walls, the wastelands had entered into cultivation. This in itself was a major undertaking, yet simultaneous projects of connecting the lake to the farmlands through a canal were underway.

This was not the action of a lord tormented by poverty.

‘This is not what I heard.’

There was a construction boom throughout the estate. Such feats seemed impossible unless a mine had been discovered somewhere. To him, the Farrow household had always been an object of derision.

The family’s incessant decline made it hard to believe they were once a count’s household, and being pushed to the north, they seemed unable to escape the grip of poverty.

The fact that Viscount Revion didn’t even consider the Baron of Farrow as a peer indicated just how dire their situation had been deemed.

Had it not been for a handwritten letter from Duke Raion, he would have never deigned to associate with the likes of the Baron of Farrow in his lifetime.

[Dear Viscount Revion,

I am always grateful for your efforts on behalf of our faction.

To solidify your position within our circle, all nobles are working tirelessly in various capacities, and soon you shall hear good news.

…

…Out of nowhere, Duke Langton’s claim over the trade rights to Baron Farrow’s lands has become troubling.

By overtly vowing to support Baron Farrow, it’s as if Langton has publicly taken him under his wing, and if those trade rights are indeed passed to the baron, it will create a significant concern for us.

I hope you can personally visit the Farrow Estate to uncover the details.

There are a few things I suspect, and numerous rumors are circulating, but nothing beats confirming things first-hand.]

Due to considerable bribes spread throughout the political sphere by Viscount Revion, Duke Raion’s letter was exceedingly polite, taking the form of a request. However, to a mere border lord, it was more of an irrefutable command.

How the perpetually struggling Baron of Farrow managed to connect with Duke Langton or if something significantly transformative was indeed happening within his domain as rumored, was what he was asked to find out.

The political circle was currently fraught with headaches over this matter. Rumors suggested that Baron Farrow, desperate for a turnaround this generation, had liquidated all assets inherited from ancestors to go all-in.

The Farrow household, once counts and now in continual decline such that even the estate’s survival was in question, had made a resolute decision through Jeron Farrow, so it was said.

For this reason, Viscount Revion had moved his considerable bulk in person. Since mere reconnaissance wouldn’t suffice, Duke Raion had ordered him to actively investigate.

Finally having entered the Farrow household’s territory, Viscount Revion was to witness the drastic changes with his own eyes. Then, something caught his attention. Farmers were using iron tools for cultivation.

“Sir Asti, retrieve the hoe that farmer is using and bring it to me.”

“Pardon? Milord, we are clearly on Farrow household territory. Meddling with private property could provoke issues.”

“Who doesn’t know that? Just a quick check and returning it would suffice, right? It shouldn’t be a crime to take a look at a quality farming tool. After all, I’m not a stranger but a neighbor.”

“Is that so…?”

The appeal to neighborliness was a serious sophistry, but who would dare to refuse the grave command of a feudal lord? The knights brought over a hoe that looked very sturdy.

Viscount Revion admired the beautiful lines of the hoe that stretched out before him. The hoe was made entirely of one piece of metal, from head to handle, but the shaft and grip were very light.

“What kind of hoe is made with such care?”

At a glance, it was no ordinary item. The Viscount lightly struck the hoe with a dagger.

Ping!

“Ha! What madness is this?”

To their astonishment, the hoe, being merely a hoe, repelled a dagger mixed with mithril? Despite the hoe being covered in dirt and dust until now, Viscount Revion’s eye for quality was not mistaken.

He had seen from afar peasants using what seemed like mithril weapons as tools. He had doubted his own eyes at first. What lunatic lord would make farming tools out of mithril?

“Lord Asti, pass me your sword.”

“Yes, milord.”

‘It can’t be, can it?’

Revion had thought he was mistaken. Perhaps he had been swindled by a merchant when buying the dagger. Viscount Revion fiercely struck the head of the hoe with the knight’s sword.

Clang!

“Ha!”

“Have you ever seen such madness! Is this truly not mithril?”

Viscount Revion and his knights were shocked to their core, breaking into cold sweats. What kind of hoe is so durable, repelling the knight’s sword and even damaging the blade?

This could hardly be called a hoe, more a weapon of slaughter. The heat was suffocating enough, but Revion felt a sense of breathlessness from the shock.

“Ha, breathless. Does this make any sense!?”

“I, too, find it hard to believe. Unless Lord Jeron Farrow has lost his senses, how could he invest in farming tools to this extent…?”

It couldn’t possibly be real mithril. But the quality of the metal was undeniable. Unable to believe the situation, Revion had them bring over a sickle used by the peasants. The handle was wooden, but the blade was very sharp.

Would it also deflect a sword?

Clang!

“……!”

This time, the sword was cut in half. All were unable to hide their amazement. They had never heard nor seen farming tools made of such strong steel before. Revion could not fathom Baron Farrow’s intent.

“To be so dedicated to farming as to make tools from metal suitable for arming an army, is that the act of a sane man? What is Baron Farrow even thinking?”

***

‘What’s with this pig? He’s gotten even fatter.’

Jeron’s thoughts upon seeing Viscount Revion. When he had seen Viscount Revion in his youth, he thought him to be somewhat bulky, but now he appeared severely obese. He looked as though he carried all sorts of adult diseases.

Despite being adorned in fancy attire, the sweat streaming down his face in the midsummer heat made him appear like a drowned pig. Jeron grimaced involuntarily but managed a professional smile.

“It is an honor to meet the renowned Lord Viscount Revion, who has made quite the name for himself in the political arena, visiting this humble territory.”

“Ha ha ha, what are you saying? Lately, a young, newly-appointed baron like a comet, shaking up the political scene – seeing you in person, you live up to your reputation.”

“It’s just that the rumors have painted a flattering picture.”

While smiling, Viscount Revion continued his inspection, scrutinizing the changing interiors of the estate with sharp eyes.It was clear he came snooping around.

Jeron made no attempt to hide anything. He did hide the crane, an internal cheat code, in the warehouse, but the poverty of his domain was a fact.

Jeron had indeed improved Lord Yung’s mindset and introduced parts of an economic system, but it wasn’t a dramatic transformation of the entire domain. Throughout his walk to Jeron’s office, Lord Revion couldn’t stop his prying eyes.

“Go ahead, take a good look. See what you find.”

Jeron pondered deeply on how to deal with this wealthy simpleton. The question was what to sell to acquire the wasteland sandwiched between Revion and Farrow’s lands. Finally, Jeron came up with a master plan.

Screech!

The squeal from the old door’s hinges made Lord Revion flinch momentarily. What greeted him was a stark office scene: a single desk, a bookcase, the visitor’s chair, and table were all there was. Papers were strewn all over the desk.

“Is this really a noble’s office?”

Lord Revion thought, his brows furrowing naturally before his gaze shifted towards the terrace. Amid the worn and torn furniture, a crystal bottle shimmered brilliantly.

It was the peak time of day when sunlight poured in generously. The whiskey inside the crystal bottle displayed its splendid presence as the sun touched it, spreading golden rays in all directions.

The office’s dilapidated interior made the gorgeous bottle stand out even more. Lord Revion was momentarily transfixed, his eyes fixed solely on the crystal whiskey decanter. Jeron smiled inwardly.

The crystal decanter, a supply from Earth, was something he had taken out of his whiskey display case. To the people of this era, its design would be considered groundbreaking. The crystal gleamed and was carved with designs akin to jewels.

Even the cap was unusual, engraved with a web-like pattern and scattering light softly.

On the bottom of the whiskey bottle:

[Recommended Retail Price: 30,000 won]

It did not seem to be a product of Cheonnyang X-treme. Considering the pricing, the bottle of whiskey appeared quite expensive. It was filled to the brim with whiskey.

Despite having seated Lord Revion at the guest seat, his gaze continually wandered back to the terrace.

“Lord Revion?”

“Ah! My apologies. So captivated was I by the beautiful gem on the terrace, my attention was unwittingly drawn. What, pray tell, is this?”

“Surely a noble with your discerning taste would know better than I,” Jeron suggested subtly.

‘This enchanting hue.’

Lord Revion’s eyes shook uncontrollably. Jeron had wondered how exactly to broker a deal.

Given that the lord owned silver mines and was wealthy, letting him leave without making a purchase due to his snooping would naturally result in his pockets being lighter.

Although Jeron could have resorted to all kinds of flattery and persuasive arguments, he let Lord Revion adjudicate the worth himself. Indeed, Jeron’s approach proved correct.

Lord Revion’s eyes gleamed with greed, his pupils trembling with unbridled desire. In his mind, countless calculations on how to leverage this must have been racing.

Jeron, seizing the moment to drive the point home, brought out a glass. It was a spirit glass, seemingly crafted from jewels, a perfect match for the whiskey bottle.

Clink!

As Jeron filled the glass with whiskey, a sweet yet bitter, profoundly aromatic scent spread throughout the room.

“Please, have a drink.”

“Thank you kindly.”

Lord Revion, as if entranced, immediately took in the scent of the whiskey.

“…!”

The intoxicating aroma was overwhelming.

‘Could it be poisonous to taste?’

Without hesitation, he downed the liquor.

“Cough!”

Then, shaking uncontrollably as if possessed, it seemed Lord Revion was thoroughly impressed.

“Insane! The liquors I’ve drunk till now were nothing compared to this!”

“I’m glad you like it. Are you interested in this product?”