Mystery: The Stranger

Chapter 10 Traditional Narrative

The core ability of this sealed artifact is "distortion": by distorting the target's understanding of language and actions, it constructs a self-serving order and even distorts the direction of attacks. The side effect is that it unknowingly corrupts the user's mind, making them dark and greedy, and prone to making irrational choices.

Snow didn't care about these side effects at all; he originally played the Shadow class, and now he was a demon.

How much darker can it be? How much more greedy can it be?

The constant nagging from Saratas had made Snow Serin extremely resistant to it.

"I'll trouble you two to collect taxes from the other dozen or so villages this time," Snow said, looking at the two cryptids. "For God's sake, if these villagers pay their taxes as required, I will exempt them from caravan tolls before the end of the year so they can buy more grain."

Even though Snow wasn't very serious and his voice was somewhat lazy, under the distortion of "Baron," his poisoned subordinates perceived him as the imposing Baron Hawke.

He entrusted the tax collection to two highly respected cryptids, using his eyes to stop Arnold from offering any suggestions. He didn't actually care about the gold coins lost from missing a toll collection, although that would indeed be a significant loss. Collecting taxes would simply take a little more time, and as in previous years, the villagers would always pay their due taxes.

A barony on the western coastal border of the Northern Continent was certainly not a desirable place, lacking vast plains. It was a remote and impoverished area, dominated by wetlands and wastelands. Agriculture was underdeveloped, with staple food mainly supplied by external merchants. The major transportation routes were naturally controlled by Baron Hawke, and the so-called toll was simply a fee for passing through.

The farmers in these villages need to sell their forestry resources, such as timber and resin, to buy other necessities or food. They can certainly try to evade taxes, but if Baron Hawke were to add the taxes they evaded to the toll that caravans have to pay to do business, it would ultimately be these villagers who would suffer.

So no matter how much these people procrastinate, they will eventually have to pay their taxes. Arnold doesn't think the Baron needs to reduce the toll tax before the end of the year, since it is one of the Baron's important sources of income.

Snow was certainly aware of these things, but he wasn't interested in money.

He didn't care about earning a few less gold coins; he only cared that his will be carried out. He said that if people paid taxes, they should pay taxes on time, not play any tricks, obey the rules, and submit to the rule. As for whether the means were violent conquest or inducement through concessions, there was not much difference in essence.

Most importantly, be obedient.

If you don't cause trouble, you'll get candy.

"Praise be to you, my lord."

"All is dedicated to the great Lord."

The two monks made the sign of the cross in prayer without objection. After all, the baron's promise wouldn't affect their reputation in the countryside, and overseeing tax collection was simply their duty.

......

After a brief discussion, it was still early.

Snow, of course, didn't invite these people to stay for dinner, nor was he in a hurry to "annihilate" the heartless in Rye Village—after all, he had just fought his way out of Rye Village, and even the demons that had retreated into the abyss after causing destruction had been tricked out and devoured, transforming into his own extraordinary characteristics. The so-called "annihilation" was merely an excuse to cover up his true intentions.

He looked at Leah, who had come forward again and bowed, and helped her to sit down on the chair beside him. His fingertips touched her slightly cool arm, and his tone was calm but reassuring: "Thank you for your help. You really helped me a lot this time."

As he spoke, Snow leaned down slightly and placed a light, feather-like kiss on Leah's forehead. He could clearly feel her body tense instantly, with a hint of barely perceptible resistance and trembling, but that didn't matter—he hadn't intended to do anything to her anyway.

Stabilize her emotions, provide her with a basic sense of security, and maintain her original quality of life. This is the only way to ensure that you have a stable base of operations.

Although Leah is only a Sequence 8 "Listener," she belongs to the Mystic Path. The Solomon Empire has long since collapsed, and a new united empire has not yet been established. The current infighting and power struggle among the six major churches is concentrated in the core region of the northern continent, busy vying for faith resources. In this remote borderland, the orthodox faith of the fallen God remains the core cornerstone of their rule.

Keeping this listener in check is like holding onto the biggest safety net. As long as the traditional faith of the fallen God doesn't collapse, there won't be major chaos in the baronies; similarly, the fallen God won't notice the changes here—just as the six gods won't pay attention to the specific circumstances of each believer.

The most powerful ally of the fallen God, the Black Emperor Solomon, has fallen, and He Himself is mired in a dire predicament, with His followers and forces still suffering from the siege and suppression of the six major churches. Moreover, He has long since lost His idealistic approach and can no longer easily understand people's hearts. Such minor changes in the periphery, as long as the faith system remains stable and unchanged, will not attract His utmost attention.

Even when Leah habitually prays to the fallen God, she is simply ignored.

After all, in this turbulent era, there are far too many believers who need help, face the threat of death, and whose faith is wavering. The trivial prayers of a woman from a small border town are like a pebble thrown into the ocean, unable to create any ripples.

As long as she doesn't suffer any real harm, the faith of this land doesn't become disordered, and everything continues as usual, the gods won't give her a second glance—even if she prays, there will be no response. And the fact that she can pray normally is enough to prove that "all is well."

This is exactly the kind of protection Snow wanted.

He needed to leave his "traces" in this world beforehand through Leah—a narrative of an abyss demon secretly infiltrating reality and gradually taking control of the baronies. This origin had to be traceable, and he even had to deliberately leave clues for others to find out, only in this way could he conceal the biggest secret: the fact that he did not belong to this world.

"It's all I should do... After all, I promised you, and you said you would keep your promise..." Leah's voice choked with emotion, her eyes reddening slightly, and she almost cried again. But Snow didn't offer any further "comforting" gestures; he simply watched her quietly. Leah gradually calmed down, her fingertips clenching the hem of her skirt.

"Yes, I never break my promises," Snow said calmly. "I am a demon, I don't need offspring, and I have no interest in raising them myself." He paused, his tone calm but with an undeniable certainty. "I would be happy to raise your two children. Land and gold are meaningless to me. When they grow up, they will naturally receive everything that is rightfully theirs."

After reiterating his promise, Snow stood up.

The old steward had already brought over the prepared black horse, and twenty guards in black armor had also assembled, the sound of their hooves echoing in the courtyard.

He mounted his horse, preparing to head to Rye Village. The necessary reassurances were sufficient. These promises were enough to ensure Leah wouldn't take any drastic measures—as long as she didn't lose more, she would instead actively help Snow maintain stability in the territory. If she dared to harbor any disloyalty…

Snow's lips curled into a cold smile. As a Sequence 6 demon, he naturally possessed the ability to sense malice; any lurking betrayal or conspiracy would become a warning signal in advance. He had no need to impose any physical or mental shackles on this woman.

No monitoring or control is required.

"Our interests are aligned."

Suddenly, the phantom of Saratas appeared in Snow's arms. She was wearing a scarlet dress, her cheek pressed against his palm. She turned back and gave him a bright but somewhat eerie smile, her voice as sweet as honey.