Several ideas flashed through my mind about what could be done with that seemingly useless land.

I wanted nothing more than to spread out a map and start planning, but now wasn’t the time or place for that—standing in the audience chamber before the throne.

‘It’s not something I can act on now, but when I have the resources, I’ll give it a shot.’

Setting my thoughts aside, I refocused on the person seated on the pristine white throne before me.

“Your Grace, I am deeply honored to receive this blessing,” I said, bowing low.

Despite being granted a land of ice and barren soil, I showed no sign of disappointment.

“To Arad Jin, along with the title of Count, 200 gold coins shall be awarded,” announced Hightai.

‘200 gold? Not bad,’ I thought, my lips curling into a faint smile as I kept my head lowered.

‘If the land is a dud, then at least the cash should be decent.’

Considering the always-strained finances of High Castle, this was an impressively generous gesture.

‘It must mean they’ve gained some breathing room.’

I could guess the reason behind this financial flexibility.

The large-scale purges had left several fiefs vacant, likely increasing High Castle’s tax revenue when those lands were reclaimed as ducal domains.

And then there was the steady stream of income from Arad Salt, now selling lucratively to the Empire.

“However, the 200 gold shall not be paid all at once but distributed over three years—two payments of 70 gold and a final payment of 60 gold,” Hightai continued, his tone solemn as ever.

The ceremony proceeded without interruption, the formality weighing heavily on the room.

“Arad Jin,” Hightai declared, signaling the climactic moment of the ceremony.

Grand Duchess Arina rose from her throne, holding a ceremonial sword, and began walking toward me.

She wore a noble’s tunic crafted from silk and linen, complemented by a leather cloak draped over her shoulders.

At her waist hung the bag I had crafted for her—still faithfully carried even at this formal occasion.

“In the Abyss, I made you a promise,” she said softly as she stopped before me, kneeling.

It was the first time I had heard her voice since the ceremony began.

“I promised to grant you a wish. Whatever I could do, I would make it happen,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly.

“Speak your wish,” she urged, her cheeks and the tips of her ears tinged with a faint blush.

“I will share my wish, Your Grace,” I replied steadily.

“Go ahead!” she said, her voice suddenly rising in anticipation.

I didn’t think much of her reaction and confidently voiced the wish I had prepared.

“I wish to establish a merchant guild. Not just any guild, but an endorsed guild under your authority. Please grant me permission for this.”

“Ah… that wish again! I suppose I have no choi… huh?”

“Pardon?”

“...Huh?”

Something had clearly gone awry in our communication.

“A guild? You want to establish an endorsed merchant guild? That’s your actual wish?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” I affirmed.

For some reason, her ears and face flushed an even deeper shade of red.

“Well… yes, of course. That’s an easy enough wish to grant. Ha… hahaha… hahahahaha!”

Her laughter was strained and nervous, her words almost spilling out in a fluster.

There was a mix of relief and embarrassment on her face, and she avoided meeting my gaze.

In her blue eyes, I caught a fleeting glimpse of something bittersweet as she looked away.

‘What’s this about? I made sure to communicate my wish in advance through Isabelle.’

Perplexed by her visible unease, I tilted my head in confusion.

***

*The Morning Before the Ceremony.*

“A wish to establish an endorsed merchant guild?”

Through Isabelle, Arina had learned of Arad’s wish in advance.

One might wonder why she didn’t hear it directly from him, but Arina simply couldn’t bring herself to do so.

If she faced him in person and heard something like a political marriage proposal or similar notions again, she feared she wouldn’t be able to make a rational decision.

“Yes, my lady. He specifically asked for permission to establish an endorsed merchant guild,” Isabelle confirmed.

“Hm…”

“Arad is, at heart, a merchant. Consider how he sold food with Arad Salt in Haven and traded in the Abyss using the Golden Carriage. Isn’t it just so… him?”

Despite Isabelle’s rare praise, Arina still found it hard to comprehend.

“An endorsed merchant guild means reduced taxes, but I’d technically be its owner. And he still wants this?”

“Everything in the North ultimately belongs to you anyway, my lady,” Isabelle replied casually.

“Nominally, yes. But who actually believes that?”

“Regardless, this is good news. The Rune Guild, Renslet’s only endorsed guild, already struggles to manage the distribution of Arad Salt. Adding another endorsed guild could alleviate the burden.”

Though she half-listened to Isabelle’s words, Arina wrestled with interpreting the true intent behind Arad’s wish.

‘Could this be a diversion to lower my guard, only to make a marriage proposal during the ceremony…?’

Her imagination spiraled, causing her face to flush hotly.

‘Oh no, oh no, oh no…’

Between nervous anticipation and apprehension, she could barely eat or sleep that day.

*The Ceremony.*

“I will share my wish, Your Grace.”

“Go ahead!”

At last, Arad voiced his wish.

“I wish to establish a merchant guild. Not just any guild, but an endorsed merchant guild under your authority.”

“Ah… that wish again! I suppose I have no choi—huh?”

“Pardon?”

“...Huh?”

Arad’s wish hadn’t changed one bit, making her sleepless night seem almost laughable in retrospect.

“A guild? You truly wish to establish an endorsed guild?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Well… yes, of course. That’s an easy enough wish to grant. Ha… hahaha… hahahahaha!”

Despite the overwhelming embarrassment, Arina felt an inexplicable sense of disappointment and regret washing over her.

“Perhaps… is there another wish? I could grant you one more as a special favor,” she offered, her voice slightly trembling.

“What I’ve received already is more than enough. Asking for more would be unfair,” Arad replied with firm resolve.

“Ah… yes. That’s a wise decision,” she said, though her voice betrayed her deflated mood.

‘Yes, this is the way it should be. I asked if there were other wishes, and this is the proper response. Feeling regret now would be ridiculous. This is right. This is how it should be.’

The ceremonial sword trembled slightly in her hands.

‘Perhaps he heard about the curse… about the fate of the Grand Dukes and Duchesses of Renslet, who are said to live short lives. That must be why he’s avoiding it.’

The thought of the Renslet curse—an old superstition about the short lifespans of the Grand Dukes and their consorts—flashed through her mind.

Though dismissed by many as mere myth, Arina couldn’t help but think it made sense. For the sake of the North, Arad’s safety and longevity were paramount.

‘Yes, this is the right decision—for his safety, for his long life.’

With great effort, Arina buried her regret and longing.

She concluded the ceremony by gently tapping Arad’s head and shoulders with the ceremonial sword.

The title of Count was now his.

***

The North was vast, far exceeding its modest population.

In terms of size, it was comparable to the Korean Peninsula, with a geography and climate resembling that of Denmark.

Naturally, the entire expanse of this land wasn’t ruled solely by the Grand Duke.

The Northern Grand Duchy specifically referred to High Castle, also known as Renslet Fortress, along with the Extreme North Great Wall and certain directly governed territories.

The rest of the land was managed by noble families loyal to the Grand Duke, following the feudal norms of the continent.

In accordance with feudal traditions, a grand noble of ducal rank, like the Grand Duke, had the authority to grant or revoke titles up to the rank of count.

This context made the rise of a new Count in the North a historic event—the first in 200 years since the Grand Duchy’s founding, when titles and lands were initially distributed to its founding nobles.

“A Count? And overnight, at that.”

“Given his accomplishments and talents, it’s not exactly surprising.”

“It’s the first time a high noble of count rank has been created, but titles like baron or viscount have been granted periodically.”

“If anything, the granted fief being so insignificant was the shocking part.”

“That was probably to placate the other nobles.”

In a secret chamber, six figures, their faces obscured by deep hoods and black masks with white tear streaks, whispered among themselves.

“Creating Arad Salt and saving the Grand Duchess’s life? He could have asked for a royal proposal instead of a title.”

“A royal proposal? The same woman who rejected the Emperor and Crown Prince’s proposals? She likely shut him out, too.”

“Or perhaps the opposite.”

“Arad Jin turned it down?”

“Exactly. Isn’t it well known that past Grand Dukes and Duchesses of Renslet lived short lives? A royal title wouldn’t protect him from that curse.”

“Hmm… fair point.”

Their meeting was undoubtedly outside High Castle; such suspicious gatherings would never be tolerated within its walls.

“Who exactly is this Arad Jin?”

“They say he’s an adventurer from the Eastern Continent.”

“And you believe that?”

“Of course not.”

“Could he be a secret weapon raised by the former Grand Duke and the witches?”

“Given how close he is to the witches, that seems likely.”

“Regardless, he’s thrown our plans into disarray.”

“We’ll need to lay low for a while.”

“I hear purges are still happening at High Castle.”

“Such stupidity! Absolutely idiotic! What pride does the North have to justify this?”

“I thought this Grand Duchess would be different, but she’s worse than her father.”

“We finally had the Empire willing to embrace us! She could have just closed her eyes and agreed to a political marriage!”

“Expel the witches to appease the Empire’s church!”

“She claims to care for the North and its people, but she’s utterly selfish.”

“And that ridiculous 20% estate tax! It’s absurd! No other place on the continent enforces such limits!”

“Prohibiting toll taxes, too!”

“Even mandating a maximum 10% tax from merchant guilds!”

“There isn’t another place in the world with laws like these!”

“And her patrols! She sends inspectors everywhere, constantly meddling!”

Their complaints erupted like a dam bursting, fueled by selfish desires and the inability to see beyond their narrow interests.

They vented all their frustrations, knowing opportunities for such clandestine gatherings would remain rare.

Creak.

The door to the chamber opened, and a seventh figure entered.

Clad in a hood and mask like the others, the newcomer was further obscured by a voluminous cloak that made even their build indiscernible.

“You’ve arrived!”

“We’re honored you’ve come in person.”

None of the gathered nobles dared show any disrespect to the newcomer.

“Your Excellency, please show mercy to this wretched North.”

Let us get straight to the point, for time is short.

The voice that emerged from the masked figure was artificial, rendering it impossible to discern gender or age.

Every time they spoke, the white tears on their mask seemed to shimmer, likely enchanted with magic.

Take these stones and place them in specific locations across the North as I instruct.

The masked figure pulled something from within their cloak—a small, black stone about the length of an adult’s forearm.

It bore no inscriptions or carvings, only an unnerving, smooth surface.

“…What are these?”

They are stones intimately connected to the spirits of High Castle.

The figure continued.

The North’s harvest of wild herbs will dwindle significantly. Wheat, rye, and even potatoes—barely grown as they are—will fail entirely. However, High Castle’s farms will flourish like never before.

“...!”

The masked nobles couldn’t hide their delighted smiles.

“We’ll need to stockpile food immediately.”

The Empire will ensure an ample supply is sold at a discount for the time being.

***

In modern Earth, particularly South Korea, strict digital systems make it challenging to evade taxes, even with rates hitting 30–40%.

Not impossible, of course—but exceedingly troublesome and risky.

For the record, I had never engaged in tax evasion, only legal tax optimization.

But now, even in this other world, despite knowing I’d eventually leave for Earth again after building things up, I was presented with a golden opportunity: the chance to run a legitimate business completely tax-free.

Sure, there was a catch—the Grand Duchess could dismantle it at will—but from what I’d observed of Arina’s personality, that seemed unlikely.

It was the dream scenario for any entrepreneur—a utopian opportunity to manage a business without the burden of taxes.

‘Still, I should contribute voluntarily on occasion, under the guise of defense funds.’

Naturally, I intended to make regular donations to High Castle to support its military and public safety.

‘National security, defense, and law enforcement must be solid for businesses to thrive and economies to grow.’

Even with the enticing prospect of running an endorsed guild, I couldn’t lose sight of my ultimate goal: saving the North.

“Alright! This is just the beginning.”

Stretching my back, I looked up proudly at the building in front of me.

“If there’s Jin Industries in Korea, then here in Renslet, we have Arad Company.”

A three-story building located in High Castle’s middle-class district stood before me.

Its façade proudly displayed a magically coated signboard that shimmered with enchantments.

Engraved on it, in bold, was the name: Arad Company.