Chapter 193: Taxation and the Book That Glows

"This is truly... astonishing."

Kaor held it in for a long moment before finally settling on the word astonishing. "It’s nothing short of a miracle. Even in the Empire’s Griffin Province, 75 kilograms would already be considered a bumper harvest. Yet here in Nightfall Domain, we’ve achieved such incredible yields!"

"The lord has the blessing of the Goddess." Tate looked exhausted, but his eyes shone brightly.

Phield merely smiled. "The credit goes to Miss Charlotte."

"Hehe, it’s not that impressive." Feeling all eyes on her, Charlotte scratched her head shyly. "I just did what I was supposed to do. This is the result of everyone’s hard work."

"My lord, manure fertilizer truly works. Even slaves who are clumsy and slow can produce yields higher than free citizens."

Kaor waved his hands excitedly. "We should promote it across the board."

"Just spread the word and publicize it widely. There’s no need to enforce it."

After thinking for a moment, Phield smiled. "After all, free citizens’ farmland is limited. Besides, we don’t even need to say anything—they’ll envy those who use it once they see the difference in income."

"Oh, and the fermented manure—if they need it, they can buy it with copper coins. It’s time we expand our sources of income."

The mill Phield had built also charged fees—first, to prevent people from monopolizing it, and second, to generate revenue. A win-win situation.

"Now, back to the main topic. What tax rate would be appropriate? You can all give your suggestions."

Without hesitation, Kaor said, "I suggest a seventy percent grain tax. Additionally, for the past few months, the people have been living off our stored provisions. We should collect an extra twenty percent of their grain as repayment until they’ve fully repaid us with interest."

"Hiss..."

Phield felt his scalp tingle. Taking ninety percent of the farmers’ harvest—are you even human?

Even the children observing nearby had no objections. Clearly, such high tax rates were nothing unusual to them.

Only Tate looked like he wanted to speak but was holding back, his expression conflicted and indignant.

Ah... so there are still decent people in this era. Phield felt a bit relieved.

"Tate, what do you think?"

With an encouraging look, Phield gestured for him to stand and speak.

"I think we should add another five percent tax," Tate said bluntly. "After all, the tools and water they use are provided by you, my lord. As long as they don’t starve, it’s fine. Once they’ve eaten their own grain, they can sell their labor."

"...What?" Phield was dumbfounded. He had hoped someone would argue for easing the burden on the farmers—not intensifying exploitation.

Then again, it made sense. Tate was an extreme workaholic, always pushing slaves to work harder for the sake of the lord’s interests. He was the most loyal defender of the ruling class.

Power determines loyalty. Of course he wouldn’t speak for the common people.

In this world, agricultural taxes typically ranged from sixty to ninety percent.

With a sigh, Phield set down the parchment and declared directly, "We’ll collect a forty percent tax. Of that, thirty percent will be stored in the granary. Half of the surplus will be given to Charlotte as her personal property."

"...Huh?"

Everyone was stunned.

"Wait... that’s not right."

"What about your interests, my lord?"

"There’s no need to be so generous. If they’re too well-fed, they’ll cause trouble."

"Just follow my orders. Also, starting next Monday, free citizens will no longer receive food rations." Phield suppressed all objections with authority. "As for slaves, things remain the same—full yield is handed over, and they’ll receive monetary rewards based on output."

With Nightfall Domain’s military strength, Phield wasn’t worried about well-fed fools causing trouble.

"Everyone, carry out your tasks."

Tate opened his mouth, his face filled with disbelief.

"Let’s go. The lord is one of a kind."

The steward was already used to it. He pulled Tate along, and the group left the hall while continuing their discussion.

"Phield, I don’t want any personal property. You should take it instead." As soon as Kaor and the others left, Charlotte rushed over, clinging to him and shaking her head repeatedly. "What would I even do with so much wheat? I can’t eat it all."

"If you can’t eat it, you can exchange it for money," Phield replied matter-of-factly. "Distribution according to labor—that’s only fair. You’ve put in so much effort, you deserve the reward."

Phield’s main concern was maintaining the motivation of the Divine Chosen.

The Divine Chosen in his territory were already incredibly driven, but a proper reward system still needed to be established.

Charlotte seemed to be processing what "distribution according to labor" meant. Her brain stalled for a moment before she said, "I don’t care. You keep it for me. We’re in a contract, right? What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is yours."

"Alright."

Phield agreed without hesitation.

"My lord, my lord, you need to come see this." Gogris came running over, panting, her fluffy tail swaying energetically. "Your book—it’s glowing."

"A book... glowing? Let’s go take a look."

Filled with confusion, Phield immediately followed Gogris to the basement of Starnight Castle.

As soon as he entered, he was greeted by all kinds of wooden components scattered around.

Noticing his gaze, Gogris grabbed his hand, her face lighting up with genuine joy. "The repeating crossbow is almost finished. Please give me two more days."

"Excellent."

Phield reached out and patted her head.

Gogris’s face flushed so red it looked like steam might rise from her ears.

They entered a storage room in the basement, where various strange items were displayed. The magic book left behind after killing Hannah, along with that ring, sat on a display platform.

The magic book emitted a faint crimson glow, casting an eerie light across the entire room.

"It’s really glowing... Is today some kind of special day? Like an eclipse or something?"

For a moment, Phield couldn’t make sense of it.

"Since they’re both items from the Shadow World Sect, there’s no way the ring is useless." Phield picked up the ring and examined it closely.

"Perhaps it needs a magic core to charge it?" Gogris studied it carefully and pointed at the ring. "It has very complex craftsmanship. It wouldn’t make sense for it to be just a decorative item."

"That makes sense."

Fortunately, from a past rebellion, Phield had seized a cart full of magic cores. He took one out.

The moment he placed it against the ring, the core warped like ripples and vanished instantly. At the same time, intricate runes lit up across the ring, forming a complex magic array.

"Buzz—"

A weightless sensation overtook him. When Phield opened his eyes again, he found himself inside a vast underground chamber, surrounded by blazing torches.

"What the hell?!"

Startled, Phield instinctively moved toward the wall—only to discover, to his astonishment, that he passed straight through it.