Chapter 155 Luck Has Finally Come Around!!
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
＝＝Yugan Free Cities League＝＝
—State Capital Livonia—
—Grand Palace—Inside the Assembly Hall—
Once every few months, when the regular council gathered, the usually quiet Grand Palace filled with a restless buzz. Lords from all corners of the Yugan Free Cities League came sweeping in with their entourages, the air thick with perfume, armor polish, and the faint nervous sweat of people who all secretly wanted each other’s land.
It was always the same. Before the meeting officially started, everyone traded their stiff formal greetings like they were moving chess pieces. It was a country, after all—even a league of “free” cities had its tangled web of factions and rivalries, and pretending otherwise was just bad strategy.
Ayumu had already planned the order of his greetings down to the last handshake. First stop had to be Emperor Rai, of course. He slipped into the side chamber where the emperor waited, offering a neat little box of flaky pumpkin pie pastries—the man’s favorite. One down.
Next was Duke Merizaev, the Supreme Commander of the Northern Military District. A hardline warhawk, always pushing for the return of the “strong old Yugan” through conquest. It was vital to catch him early, before the other vultures swarmed him.
And, as Ayumu well knew, when he met Merizaev he needed to slip in one casual line—”I came here before heading to Duke Ralka”—to remind him whose company he chose first. That would matter.
Sure enough, the towering old man’s beard twitched as he cracked a grin, and Ayumu could practically see his good mood blooming like some ancient bear being petted just right.
Only then did he move on to Duke Ralka—Supreme Commander of the Eastern Military District, master of Livonia itself, and leader of the pro-economy faction.
There was no need to worry that greeting Merizaev first might offend him. Ralka already held Ayumu in high regard: the canal project that shaved months off construction thanks to those blast tunnels through Kapon Rüdel’s contacts, the way he dragged Keldan out of being a slum and wiped out the bandits choking the trade roads—those feats had secured Livonia’s routes and earned Ralka’s quiet respect.
Ayumu made sure to greet the other economic-faction officers in quick succession, too. It would show he valued them, not that he was ignoring them in favor of Merizaev’s camp. Balance was everything here.
By the time he returned to his assigned seat—at the lowest rank spot among the upper nobility—his collar was damp from nerves. As he settled in, the middle-aged noble beside him spoke without even looking.
”Trying to charm both camps, huh… You never stop buttering people up, Honorary Count.”
It was Lord Berikov, a Margrave and a Marquis, from the Western Military District. Oddly enough, despite the west being full of warhawks, Berikov had planted himself in the economic faction instead.
”If you’re jealous,” Ayumu murmured without turning his head, “you could always try it too… Berikov.”
Berikov’s mouth curled into a dry, crooked smile. “Jealous? Hah… Hardly. Do you really think I could pull off that kind of delicate fawning, like you?”
It might have sounded like a jab, or maybe just a joke, but Ayumu didn’t flinch. If he changed course every time someone sniped from the sidelines, he would never have survived this place.
”It’s not about whether you can,” he said, voice flat. “It’s about having the resolve to do it. You of all people should see that, Berikov. The warhawks only need to keep Merizaev happy—he practically is their faction. But your economic side? Constantly fighting over tax rates, riddled with power gaps. That kind of loose ring of people… If they collapse, they’ll drag their peasants straight to hell. I can’t join a camp that shaky.”
Berikov just snorted quietly.
Ayumu’s eyes stayed straight ahead, but in the back of his mind, the old grudge burned. He hadn’t forgotten that Kapon Rüdel was part of the economic faction.
(I won’t forgive that bastard…)
Before the bitterness could curdle any deeper, a sharp voice rang out across the hall. “All rise! His Majesty will now enter!”
In a rustle of cloaks and boots, everyone straightened up as Emperor Rai strode in. The regular council began.
It was going smoothly—until someone suddenly barked, “Wait just a minute! How long are you going to keep favoring Keldan?!”
Ayumu’s head jerked toward the voice. There, standing with his fine long hair and ridiculous lion-like beard bristling, was Lord Doll—the Margrave-Marquis of the Eastern District and lord of Elzurk, the biggest city in the northeast.
Oh, him. Of course. The same man who had once demanded damages when his People of Birene guards beat up the local Elandric townsfolk during Keldan’s sewer construction, after they’d been called colorless rats.
The same man who used to employ Knight Yoluminette—before she got reassigned to Ayumu and kicked her perverted old boss in the jewels for trying to force her into bedchamber service [T/N: yotogi, traditional sexual service for lords].
And now, apparently, he was furious that Keldan still wasn’t paying taxes.
His voice rose as he ranted about how unfair it was—how Keldan was raking in profits from trade yet still enjoying imperial tax exemption, how it was an insult to other cities. He thundered, gestured, glared.
Ayumu and Emperor Rai just blinked at him.
Because… well… Keldan’s tax exemption had ended. Five days ago.
When someone finally told him, Doll’s expression froze, then his face went bright red. Everyone who’d been nodding with him a moment ago suddenly found the ceiling fascinating, shoulders shaking as they fought back laughter.
Doll clamped his mouth shut. But his eyes… oh, his eyes shot pure venom straight at Ayumu.
Totally unfair. Completely undeserved.
They couldn’t start a fight here, of course—not in front of the emperor—but all Ayumu could do was mentally scream:
(Seriously?! You literally just said Keldan was profiting from trade—did it never occur to you that they were paying taxes now?! Why are you glaring at me like I’m the villain?! This is insane—!)
He carefully turned his gaze away, pretending to study the chandeliers until the heat of Doll’s glare faded.
For the record, every lord here owed part of their domain’s taxes to the emperor in exchange for the land they ruled—a system as old as the League itself, not to mention most other countries in this world. And Ayumu… had done more than just revive a dead city. He’d turned Keldan from a slum that poisoned the region’s safety into a tax-paying jewel of the east.
Even Rai and Duke Ralka quietly admired that.
Especially the bone ash porcelain.
Ayumu had crafted pure white cups from calcined animal bones, their handles and rims sheathed in gold and silver, their saucers painted with delicate beasts. Inside the cups, tiny man-made gemstones—synthesized under crushing heat and pressure—caught the light with perfect golden-ratio cuts. They were absurdly gorgeous. Regal.
And he had presented full matching sets—five cups and saucers, one for each member of the imperial family.
Even by imperial standards, it was excessive. Extravagant. Emperor Rai had been stunned, then delighted, and when he saw the quality of the white porcelain itself—Keldan’s own product—his praise had flowed like warm wine.
Then came the taxes. The amount from Keldan this season was far from small. Ayumu had hit him with care, style, and sheer numbers.
So it was hardly surprising that, while Doll was still smoldering in silence, Rai smiled and said, “This Sanai has done excellent work. I am considering granting him the right to issue currency. What do you all think?”
The room erupted in shocked murmurs.
Currency minting rights—one of the rarest privileges, given only to those the emperor fully trusted. Nobles clawed for them all their lives. And here Rai was, tossing the idea out like giving someone a new cloak.
Even Ayumu froze.
The nobles split instantly—some agreeing he’d earned it, others scoffing that paying taxes was a duty, not an accomplishment, and that someone so new and unrooted should never be given such power.
(Please nooo…! Don’t fight over meeee!! Stop iiit!!)
Ayumu silently screamed inside as the debate swirled.
Eventually, someone asked whether Keldan even had the ability to mint coins in the first place—and that was how, days later, Ayumu ended up presenting them with tiny coins the size of one-yen pieces, each etched with flawless anti-counterfeit patterns like the five-hundred-yen coins of his old world, shocking them all over again.
(They were made from aluminum and magnesium from electrorefining, by the way. But that was a secret.)
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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