Chapter 185: The Theory of the Helping Demon Lord

After finishing all the arrangements and resting for a day, Gawain and Amber set off from the County of Kant. Meanwhile, Sir Philip and two accompanying soldiers stayed behind—for he was to oversee the implementation of the aftermath work, ensuring everything proceeded according to Gawain’s instructions. He was also tasked with establishing an emergency power center within the now lordless Kant Castle, to prevent the county’s knights, estate owners, and guild representatives from falling into chaos.

It was a difficult and tedious job, one that would be hard for Sir Philip to handle alone. But the affairs advisor, Patrick, and the chief knight, Walder Perich, had sworn to lead all knights and officials in fully supporting Philip’s efforts. Coupled with Duke Cecil’s immense prestige and the unprecedented weakness within Kant’s internal structure, Gawain was confident Philip could keep the situation under control.

After all, managing a fief in this era wasn’t all that complicated—there were no sprawling bureaucracies or intricate administrative systems. Most daily affairs of a lord were handled by stewards and advisors, while the lower levels of the domain were controlled by the various knights holding fiefs. In other words, as long as these people didn’t rebel, order could be maintained.

The rain had cleared, and the sun’s golden rays once again bathed the land freed from darkness. Though the northern wind remained chilly, it no longer carried that oppressive, unsettling aura. Light would inevitably dispel the unease in people’s hearts. Under the long-missed sunshine, a carriage bearing the Cecil family crest rolled along the cobblestone path, passing through the slowly waking town and heading south.

Since Sir Philip and the soldiers stayed behind in the castle, only Gawain and Amber remained inside the carriage, aside from the driver. Amber opened the carriage’s side panel and watched the hurried Kant villagers making their way toward the castle. She muttered, “Do you think they understand what’s happened?”

Gawain replied calmly, “Most of them will probably interpret it through their superstitions, making the events at the castle seem even stranger and darker. But none of that really matters. They’ll accept the fact, and life will go on as usual.”

“That Viscount of Kant was highly respected among the people,” Amber said with a pout. “But now these folks suddenly find out their viscount died thirty years ago, and it’s been some kind of ghostly presence ruling over them ever since… I wonder what they’ll think.”

“For most people in this era, who the lord is doesn’t matter much,” Gawain sighed. “Even a respected lord rarely leaves a lasting impression on the lowest commoners. The taverns are filled with relatively well-off townsfolk, but the domain is actually supported by eighty percent poorer peasants and serfs. How many of them have the leisure to ponder complicated matters like a change in lordship? So the answer is simple: a small number will panic, but Patrick and Walder Perich will quickly calm them down. The majority will continue living their aimless, dull lives, occasionally drinking cheap homemade wine in the fields, chatting about the old lord, and then forgetting everything before the next farming season.”

Amber looked at Gawain and frowned. “You sound kind of scary when you talk about this stuff—so calm, like an outsider.”

Gawain just smiled without explaining further. But Amber couldn’t stay quiet. After a moment’s pause, she asked, “By the way… shouldn’t you explain why you rejected Patrick’s offer? This was a golden opportunity! Everyone with influence in Kant supports you. If you took one more step, the county would be yours! It’s so far from the capital that even Francis II would have to grudgingly accept it…”

Gawain hadn’t expected Amber to still be hung up on this, nor that her brain—usually so scatterbrained—could ponder such a complex issue for so long without crashing. Since he had time, he smiled and said, “Do you really think accepting Patrick’s invitation on the spot yesterday was a good idea?”

“Then what? You’re a duke, for heaven’s sake! Is it a problem to take over a small viscounty?”

“I already said, Kant is just a tiny piece of land—though wealthy and famous for its grain, it’s a mere speck compared to the two broad plains on either side of the Dark Mountains and the vast surrounding territories. Taking over such a small domain would damage my reputation, so it’s not worth it. But that’s what I told Patrick,” Gawain shook his head with a smile. “Have you thought about what would happen if I accepted the ‘acting lord’ position of Kant? The pressure it would put on the entire southern nobility?”

Amber honestly admitted, “Who would understand that?”

“Countless eyes are watching the Cecil family, watching me—the ancient legend who crawled out of a coffin—to see what I intend to do in this era. Especially our southern neighbors. From the day I was resurrected, they’ve been on high alert. What they fear most is their own land, since over eighty percent of southern noble estates were carved out of the old Cecil holdings,” Gawain said evenly. “Now, I visit Kant, and within days the entire ruling family dies without any qualified heir. Then I turn around and become the acting lord of Kant. Without dispute, an acting lord soon becomes the de facto lord. How do you think those anxious neighbors will react?”

Amber blinked. “…They’re just dumb. You’re not after the lordship of Kant, and you didn’t kill the viscount—he died thirty years ago!”

“But the southern nobles don’t know that. Even if they find out later, they’ll refuse to accept it. People reject what they don’t want to believe. To them, the cause and effect is simple: Gawain Cecil went to Kant and became its lord. Who cares what really happened?”

“So you just played the good guy for nothing? And you even left the viscount’s personal property that he gave you behind, letting Sir Philip and Patrick divide it up…” Amber muttered resentfully, but her tone shifted halfway through. She suddenly stopped and stared at Gawain. “Wait, are you saying…”

“Patrick invited me to be lord of Kant, and I will definitely refuse. But soon everyone will know that Duke Cecil is the protector of every person in Kant,” Gawain leaned back comfortably in the carriage. “The knights and stewards in the castle will still get paid—their salaries come from Duke Cecil. The servants with nowhere else to go will still have a future—that future is provided by Duke Cecil. The commoners of Kant will still receive firewood for winter, and when they come to the town square to collect it, the proclamations posted on the bulletin board will bear my name. But even with all this, I will not be the lord of Kant.”

Amber was silent, staring blankly as Gawain continued.

“Then, I’ll build a road from the north bank of the Whitewater River to Kant, part of the new ‘North Bank Development Plan’ for the Cecil domain. Before the king’s decree is issued, Kant and Cecil lands will be effectively connected. Next, I’ll provide job opportunities for the people of Kant, allowing free trade and migration between the two lands. Every Kant resident willing to serve the Cecil family will receive fair treatment equal to that of Cecil subjects. Of course, in return, they must learn Cecil laws to avoid infringing on our interests. After that, I’ll install a magical network in Kant, recruit reputable scholars and craftsmen to renovate the town’s aging facilities, and try to extend the Cecil night school system there. Every Kant person will realize their life won’t worsen with the old lord’s death—instead, it will improve under Duke Cecil’s protection. And every southern noble will clearly see that Gawain Cecil never coveted Kant’s rule; he’s just selflessly helping his neighbors…”

Amber’s eyes widened. After a long pause, she finally blurted out, “And… if the king really sends a new lord to take over Kant, then you…”

“After I finish all this, do you think there’ll be any room left for a new lord?” Gawain smiled. “Francis II isn’t stupid. Of course, if he insists on sending someone, I won’t object. The borderlands are so far from the capital that royal control is weak. A royalist noble here would at best be a useless spy for Francis II, but he could serve well as the Cecil family’s steward, helping me manage… the Kant district.”

Amber listened in stunned silence. Half a minute later, she finally said what she was thinking: “You nobles really have the darkest hearts…”

“No, my heart isn’t dark at all. Everything I do is aboveboard. I have no schemes to harm anyone, nor will I seize property from the innocent. Think carefully—have I harmed anyone’s interests? Has anyone become poorer because of my help? Has anyone gone hungry or cold? On the contrary, everyone benefits. Even that hypothetical ‘new lord’ will live better than ever in a rapidly developing Kant, far beyond the usual ‘border noble’ life.”

Amber thought it over and found Gawain’s words made sense—but it only made her more confused and conflicted. “Then why go through all this trouble? Usually, people who scheme and plot do it to hurt others. How come you…”

“I benefit too,” Gawain laughed happily. “I’m just the ‘Helping Demon Lord’—ruthlessly scheming to make everyone’s life better.”

Amber eyed him suspiciously. “What kind of nonsense is that? Your plan is so thorough, I’m starting to suspect you had designs on Kant from the start…”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I came up with this on the fly. What else could I do? I want to help Kant but can’t get stained with scandal, so I have to take the long, winding route.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

(End of chapter)