Chapter 148: Lin Wei? Just Her Highness the Princess’s Tagalong!

Translation by: Weebsread👹

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Iresha strode ahead, fury radiating from her in palpable waves as she marched for the tax officer’s manor—determined to settle old debts.

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Lin Wei hurried to keep step, his sharp gaze sweeping their surroundings for anything amiss.

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Truthfully, he felt less anxious than he’d expected.

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After all, he’d distributed healing potions earlier; no sudden calamity was likely to befall the villagers now.

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No—the real puzzle was the attack itself. The way the demonfolk supposedly targeted this place… it all felt disturbingly convenient.

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“So, let me get this straight: the villagers refuse to pay taxes. The local lord, in his wisdom, promptly withdraws the garrison. And as the last soldier leaves, the village is assaulted by a demon raiding party—almost as if on cue.”

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Lin Wei let out a sardonic snort. “A little too convenient, isn’t it? Even the densest noble wouldn’t hatch such an idiotic plan… Or would they?”

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Espionage, in his experience, wasn’t about elaborate ruses or secret codes. It was simple: scatter gold, spread your net wide, gather every scrap of rumor—and piece together the truth, thread by thread.

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Initially, he’d come to Brook City-State just to look into the intercepted supply trains. That should have been the end of it.

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Yet here he was—thrown into the thick of another crisis. It was almost a stroke of luck. If they handled this right, it was the perfect chance to polish Veya’s reputation.

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A scene fit for ballads: humiliating the empire’s nobles, saving the commoners from ruin, and rising as a beacon of justice.

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Corrupt levies. Lawless lords. Righteous reprisal!

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Lin Wei’s mind raced. In only a few heartbeats, he’d already outlined the perfect announcement. The details of a story like this would spread quickly.

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The taxes from one small village might seem trivial, but public opinion was built, brick by brick, from such everyday grievances.

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Worse yet, during Veya’s two-year reign as Pope, she’d utterly neglected these “minor” acts of goodwill, leaving her battered reputation in disrepair.

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So, what could a husband do, faced with this mess? Only his best to mend things, of course.

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If he managed it, perhaps her people would finally see her for what she could be—the great Selena, a Pope worthy of legend.

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As his plans crystalized—

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Iresha swept into the village square, anger burning in her every movement.

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Just as the guards had reported, the villagers were gathered, pressed tight before the high platform, voices anxious and restless.

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The square thrummed with agitation. Beneath the surface, the air nearly crackled with tension and unresolved hope.

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“Silence!”

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A haughty, booming voice cut through the commotion like a blade.

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Instantly, the noise died. Even the most furious faces froze, subdued by sheer force of command.

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On the dais, a burly man in crisp imperial dress looked down, glaring as though the crowd were a pack of unruly animals daring to disrupt the natural order.

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Collecting taxes grew harder by the day.

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By the laws of the realm, every mountain, field, and river belonged to the lord. The villagers’ very lives—home, land, livelihood—were gifts of his generosity.

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Shouldn’t they, then, pay their taxes as grateful tenants?

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Ungrateful wretches! Not only did they scheme to dodge their obligations, but now they demanded soldiers for their defense?

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Fine—the taxes may be steep. But had they ever stopped to consider that everything they possessed came from working his land in the first place?

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In truth, these peasants were parasites—living off their lord’s largesse.

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Offering nothing, yet demanding everything, as if protection was their birthright. Ridiculous—pure fantasy!

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“I’ve made it perfectly clear,” the tax officer thundered, patience thinning. “What is there left to discuss?”

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“We’re not being cruel for sport—the reason you’re on your own is because your taxes are overdue! Half a month behind already!”

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“If the money dries up, the lord suffers! And when the lord suffers, the governor and I suffer with him. Where do you think funds come from—to shield you from bandits and beasts? Try seeing things from our side, for once!”

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Armored guards stood nearby, cold-eyed and imposing, watching the restless crowd like wolves among sheep.

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With his armed escort, the tax officer’s confidence returned. He pressed his advantage, loud and brash.

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“We’re asking little enough. Pay this quarter’s taxes on time.”

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“If you do, the governor sends aid immediately. Not only that, but there’ll be new loans to rebuild—at almost no interest. The guards will resume their patrols and you’ll be safe once more.”

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“It’s simple! Why can’t you people understand?”

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Pay up, and you earn protection.

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Fall behind, and you fend for yourselves against demonkind.

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As tax officer, if the collection fell short, it was his own life and career on the line!

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Surveying the ruined homes, he felt nothing but scorn for these tightfisted bumpkins. Not a flicker of sympathy—only the simmering aggravation of duties unmet.

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“But… we already pay extra whenever the guards patrol the village!”

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Some of the younger men at the front protested, faces alive with outrage.

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“It’s not just taxes—we pay for the patrols, the priests’ blessings, even to trade with other villages. Every little thing, there’s another fee!”

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“And now there’s still another tax on us? No one could afford this, no matter what!”

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“I’ve heard that in other places, the Holy See has cut most fees—and even the Empire has dropped some taxes. Why are ours still so high? Are you just lining your pockets?”

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The young rebels—bold to the edge of recklessness—were practically courting open rebellion.

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“Money, is it?”

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The tax collector narrowed his eyes, fixing a frostbitten glare on the speaker.

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As if he’d just heard the most idiotic suggestion in the world, he sneered.

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“You think a few scraps are enough to fund the guard patrols?”

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“The lord pays for their wages with the taxes he collects. What you hand over is a mere courtesy at best.”

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“You ought to be grateful to the lord, safe in the imperial capital, for bothering to protect you at all!”

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Each year, tax collection grew more difficult. Even before he left the capital, it was clear: if he failed, these villages would be left to rot.

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But taming rebels always took time. If the place was destroyed and rebuilt anew, he’d be saddled with tedious, unprofitable work.

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Best to bring this crowd to heel now—and ease future collections.

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“As for all your whining about taxes”—his voice rose over the crowd—“the Empire sets the rates. It’s the law! How else is this territory governed?”

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“The Baron’s tax code is tailored to your means,” he declared icily. “If other lands pay less, it’s because their resources can’t compare to yours. Now, who do you trust, idle rumors or your appointed official?”

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His gaze raked across the unruly youths, growing colder. “Is this open defiance? Are you trying to make trouble, or simply forget your place?”

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All morning, these same boys had tested his patience. Now he jabbed a finger at them, deciding someone must serve as an example.

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“Looks like I’ve been far too generous—so much so that you no longer fear the consequences. Guards! Seize them. Time to remind these upstarts how nobles maintain order.”

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“We haven’t done anything wrong! What right do y—”

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The shout died amidst chaos as the crowd surged and armor rang out. The young men fought, but they were overpowered in an instant; the gap in strength was too great.

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Within moments, the ringleaders were dragged down, the guards ready to throw them to the stones under everyone’s eyes.

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“Enough! Stop!”

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A sharp cry rang out—just as a blazing fireball burst forth, soaring across the square.

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It exploded before the dais, heat radiating out in a primal roar, the shockwave rattling every cobblestone and setting the villagers trembling.

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“Who dares?!”

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Waves of magical energy rippled out, scorching the air.

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Caught completely off-guard, the tax officer’s triumph shattered. He recoiled, then spun to see the source.

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And there she was: a slim figure in magus’s robes, small in stature but impossible to overlook.

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Her hair, a fierce red cascade, gleamed like living flame beneath the sun.

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Between her lips, her smoldering cigarette’s tip burned with her anger. Wand in hand, she strode through the crowd, parting it as though no one else existed.

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The magic coursing from her was so strong it seemed to warp the air.

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For a long heartbeat, the entire square fell silent, as if time had halted.

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“As an official of the Empire, do you really believe you can trample the common folk beneath your boot?”

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“And you—is the law itself just a joke to you?”

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“Who are you?”

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The seasoned tax collector knew better than to be careless. Years of practice told him to read a room by instinct alone. But this girl—rather than simpering or pleading—brandished her wand like she might burn him to cinders where he stood.

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And the rebuke in her voice—incisive, outrage laced with authority—was the kind only the highborn would ever dare utter.

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As she drew closer, his brow furrowed. Beside her stood a young man with striking, foreign features—no commoner, by the look of him—a companion whose calm demeanor only highlighted his distinction.

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The realization clicked into place: a noble lady and her attendant. In the Empire, it wasn’t rare for highborn girls to tour the countryside on a whim.

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But her bearing, her artistry—the robes of an archmage stitched with fine runes, a wand set with rare stones and enchanted chains—made the truth undoubtable.

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Call her an adventurer? Please—I’ve spent forty years among the gentry. Even if you killed me, I’d never believe it.

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“I am Iresha, mage of the Hero’s Party.”

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“And—she’s also our Princess!” Lin Wei blurted, stepping forward.

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It wasn’t much of a secret. From the way Iresha had been addressed earlier, many here already suspected. In situations like this, being a Hero’s Party mage mattered less than being foreign royalty.

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“Princess? Hero’s Party? Mage Iresha?”

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The tax officer—moments ago so domineering—now stared, dumbstruck. The guards, until recently poised for violence, turned slack-jawed; some had clearly never met a member of the Hero’s Party in person.

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Let alone a princess from another kingdom.

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How could someone like that end up in a place like this?

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“I see,” the official managed, gathering his composure. “I am Kast, Tax Officer of Mekatal Territory.”

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“So, Lady Iresha—if you truly belong to the Hero’s Party, may I ask what brings you here? Is the Demon Lord’s subjugation force training in this region?”

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Everyone in the Empire had heard of the Holy See’s Demon Lord Subjugation Force—a gathering of living legends. The rumors even spoke of a princess-mage among them, her exact homeland unclear, but her status recognized by both Empire and Church.

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Having regained his wits, the tax collector bowed and introduced himself, though his gaze couldn’t help wandering to Lin Wei in curiosity.

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Who was this, then? Another member of the Hero’s Party?

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“Our Princess heard the village had suffered a demonfolk raid on her journey, so she came to see for herself,” Lin Wei replied evenly.

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“She never expected to find such a scene.”

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Casting a glance at Iresha, he stepped forward to fill the lead. In a single breath, he adopted the air of a respectful, though worldly, attendant.

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“Her Highness has already toured the village and has a decent grasp of the situation.”

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“Tell me, Tax Officer Kast…” Lin Wei’s tone was sharp, “setting aside why your garrison failed to repel the demonfolk in time—if you insist on collecting taxes, shouldn’t you at least wait until the village is safe? Shouldn’t rescuing the injured and aiding survivors be your first priority?”

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Kast was stunned. He hadn’t expected such direct confrontation from these young nobles.

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After all, his orders were simple: collect the tax. But face-to-face with an imperial princess and, quite possibly, a member of the Hero’s own entourage, the tax officer’s composure wavered. For a moment, he fumbled for a suitable excuse.

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“Moreover—about this so-called demon attack,” Lin Wei pressed, his voice layered with subtle accusation. “Her Highness recently accepted a guild commission to investigate as well.”

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“Why don’t you explain everything for us? Save us both from wasted time.”

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There wasn’t the faintest hint of deference in Lin Wei’s manner—only the matter-of-fact confidence of one used to giving orders to imperial officers.

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Even if Lin Wei wasn’t a Hero’s Party member, Kast recognized the mark of high nobility when he saw it.

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He exhaled, suddenly aware of the sense of being interrogated.

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Nobles always talked this way—with commoners, all gentle concern, as if it amused them to play the good lord. With the lesser gentry? They wrung them dry.

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And now, the princess-mage, and her—attendant, or whatever he actually was.

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If he’d harbored any doubt, their tone erased it. They were nobility, through and through.

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“The village attack has been confirmed,” Kast declared, forcing a polite smile as his mind spun, desperate to produce answers that would satisfy them.

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“Our guards inspected the scene. The evidence points to a small demonfolk raiding party.”

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“The governor is already aware—he’s sent troops scouring the wilderness. But so far, not a single trace of the attackers has been found.”

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Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy the noblewoman. She simply nodded, as if expecting nothing less.

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“Send me a full report on the incident,” she ordered. “I expect it delivered to my desk before nightfall.”

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“As for the princess herself, have the Adventurers’ Guild take custody and record her visit as completion of the assignment,” Lin Wei added.

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Noble ladies weren’t here to make trouble, after all.

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Their real aim was to be present—so they could later recount, “Ah yes, I personally looked into the demon attack.”

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“If Her Highness wishes, we’re happy to lend any assistance required,” one of Kast’s aides replied, all diplomatic finesse.

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“Then, if we can proceed?” Lin Wei asked.

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Upon hearing this, Kast forced a broad, practiced smile.

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Lin Wei, face wholly unyielding, cut across with a clear, ringing challenge: “What’s the situation with the taxes? I heard they’ve shot up to seventy percent!”

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His words landed like a slap of cold water. “Even if the law allows the lord some leeway, how dare you justify a seventy percent levy? Do imperial statutes mean nothing here? The Princess was outraged when she heard about this!”