Chapter 63
“Have we already arrived?”
Their destination was Count Bellua’s estate.
But the sounds coming from outside didn’t match the calm, refined atmosphere you’d expect from a noble’s manor.
“It’s not that…”
Angel hesitated—and just then, loud shouts erupted outside the carriage.
“You thought nobles from the capital would be welcomed here?!”
“Where were you when we were dying? Now you come crawling in?”
“Get out! I said get out now!”
They were venting their anger at the swan emblem on the carriage.
Since they couldn’t display the Imperial crest, they had used the Daiding family’s crest instead—so the villagers mistook them for nobles from the capital.
“…What should we do?”
Angel asked.
“Let’s move the carriage back for now.”
If they forced their way through, people might get hurt for no reason.
Angel backed the carriage away.
“We won!”
“We chased the filthy nobles away!”
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Their pride in driving off the nobles was written all over their faces.
‘What the heck… we didn’t even do anything?’
Laura asked Angel:
“What on earth is happening here?”
But Angel didn’t know either.
“I just got here too, my lady.”
* * *
Soon after, Angel returned with some answers.
“So you’re saying the aid supplies we sent never reached the villagers?”
“Yes.”
“That makes no sense…”
Laura, who had led the aid efforts, couldn’t believe it.
“We sent supplies to every infected area.”
Bellua’s estate had even received more than others due to the added famine.
And now they were saying none of it had arrived?
“To get the full picture, we need to go inside. But… the situation is tricky.”
Angel looked troubled.
They had already announced themselves as nobles—pretending to be commoners now wouldn’t work.
Besides, Bellua was so remote that any outsider stood out right away.
“But we can’t just leave empty-handed.”
“Exactly. We haven’t even met the Count yet.”
Most importantly, they had a way.
“What way?”
“Let’s just reveal who we are.”
They couldn’t pass as commoners now anyway.
Even if they changed clothes, it was clear from their looks that they were well-off.
So all that was left—was to show even more authority.
“Won’t that make the villagers even more hostile? What if they riot?”
“If a riot was going to happen, it already would’ve.”
“This is one of those times we need to face them head-on.”
If the villagers thought the Imperial family had abandoned them, it was time to show them otherwise.
Asel agreed.
“The lady is right. Remove the disguise from the carriage.”
The swan emblem was peeled off—revealing the bold, unmistakable Imperial sun symbol.
Even commoners who didn’t recognize noble crests knew this one.
As soon as they saw it, the villagers stepped back and made way.
Angel was amazed.
“The path’s clear! I can’t believe that worked so easily…”
Laura didn’t bask in the praise—she focused on what was happening deeper in the village.
They soon encountered another crowd.
But this group wasn’t blocking their way.
They were gathered around a warehouse, guarded by estate knights.
A man with a goatee stood in front of them, arms crossed, ignoring the villagers’ pleas.
“What’s going on over there?”
Angel got down from his horse.
“I’ll go find out.”
What they learned next was even more absurd than expected.
“So… that man is the estate’s representative?”
“Yes.”
“And Count Bellua gave him full control while he stays in seclusion?”
“That’s right.”
No wonder the knights were listening to a man who wasn’t even the lord.
“What is that building? The lord’s mansion?”
“A warehouse.”
“A warehouse? What kind?”
“A storage facility for the aid supplies.”
“But the door is shut.”
Was it empty?
Then—
A scruffy man quietly handed the goateed man two silver coins.
The goateed man rolled the coins in his hand, then nodded at a knight.
The knight opened the warehouse, took out a sack of flour, and handed it over.
The man carried it off on his back.
The estate rep was selling the aid supplies.
“…This is insane.”
Even Angel couldn’t hold back a curse.
Laura got out of the carriage and walked over.
Standing in the crowd made the situation clearer.
“Please, even just a little medicine… I’ll pay you after the harvest…”
“How many times do I have to say no? No credit!”
“But my child is sick! Please, he might die—”
“Not my problem. I didn’t make him sick.”
“Then please, at least tell Count Bellua—he’d understand, wouldn’t he?”
“How many times do I have to say it?! The Count doesn’t have time to care about your petty problems!”
The villagers begged desperately.
But the goateed man gave supplies only to those who paid—and cruelly ignored the rest.
“Where are we supposed to get that kind of money?”
“Please, even just some sugar so I can make medicine…”
“You think sugar and salt fall from the sky?!”
Salt and sugar.
Just hearing that confirmed it for Laura.
The aid supplies had arrived.
She had sent the recipe for oral rehydration solution along with the goods.
There was no other way such a remote place could know how to make it.
So the issue was clear:
The estate rep was hoarding everything and selling what was supposed to be free.
“It didn’t fall from the sky. It fell from the Imperial Palace—and you got it for free, didn’t you?”
“You’re seriously using charity goods to make money?”
“Are you not afraid of the Imperial family?”
“What has the Empire ever done for us?”
At that moment, one of the knights whispered something into the goateed man’s ear.
His eyes narrowed as he looked at Laura.
Then he spotted Asel behind her—and his tone changed.
“Ahem… I don’t know what you’ve heard, but we haven’t received any aid from the Imperial Palace.”
“But a signed confirmation says otherwise. Bellua estate already reported receiving the supplies.”
The man’s jaw clenched.
Murmurs spread through the crowd.
He hesitated, then snapped:
“Either way, I don’t know anything! Maybe someone else stole it! Or it got lost during transport! All I know is—
—nothing ever arrived here!”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing!”
Laura smirked.
“Then the things in that warehouse must’ve fallen from the sky?”
“Those are… emergency rations Count Bellua stored ahead of time. Nothing to do with the Empire!”
Then suddenly, the man slumped his shoulders and put on a pitiful face.
“You think I don’t want to share supplies? But the Count told me to ration it carefully… I had no choice.”
He raised his voice as if he were the victim.
But Laura wasn’t buying it.
‘You just stuffed those coins into your pocket.’
“What nonsense…”
But before she could finish—
“If the Count said so…”
“We can’t help it.”
“He must have his reasons.”
The same people who had been begging moments ago now backed off at the mention of the Count.
‘Seriously? That quickly?’
There was no resistance, no anger.
Even cult leaders couldn’t sway followers this fast.
Laura stopped one of the women nearby—a middle-aged lady who had just been crying about her sick child.
“Wait—aren’t you leaving? Don’t you need medicine?”
“But the Count said no… so…”
‘Didn’t you just say your kid might die?!’
“If the Count says no, I’m sure he has a good reason.”
‘Except… you never heard the reason.’
Laura just stood there, dumbfounded.
Who the hell was this Count?
