The morning light in Devor Village in the White Dew District on the outskirts of the Holy City carries a touch of chill and moisture.
The fields exude a unique earthy fragrance, blending with the crowing of the roosters in the yard to paint a poetic pastoral scene.
Old Magi sits on the steps of his doorstep, slowly smoking a pipe, squinting as he looks at the rising mist in the distance. His wife is gathering the dried clothes from the yard, while their youngest son is scribbling circles with a twig on the ground, amusing himself by playing with mud.
He has three children. His eldest son beca an adventurer, following in the footsteps of Saint Sis and disappeared sowhere unknown. His second son joined the army and is serving His Majesty the Emperor in the New Continent, leaving only his six-year-old youngest son to accompany him.
The family, though living in poverty, finds contentnt and joy.
Old Magi never attended school and is illiterate, yet he possesses his own philosophy of life.
In his view, life is like the dry tobacco in his hand; it might seem pungent and harsh at first, but upon careful tasting, it offers a flavor unmatched by cigars.
Of course, he's never actually tasted a cigar.
At this mont, the morning tranquility is shattered by the sound of hoofbeats.
Several horses stop at the courtyard gate, their riders cloaked, the cloaks adorned with the emblem of the Devor family. The young man leading them has a fleshy face, lazily dismounting with a swagger.
This fellow is Johnny, a notorious scoundrel and a servant of the Baron Devor's household.
Johnny glances at the ledger in his hand, tucks it under his arm, snorts, and lazily walks into the yard.
"Magi, you stubborn old fool, still kicking around? Why haven't you paid this month's taxes?"
"Paid, I've paid," Magi quickly stands up, his face pleading with a flattering smile. "I just turned them in the day before yesterday. You can ask around town; Mr. Leon has it on record."
Disdainful of the sll of chicken droppings in the yard, Johnny impatiently scratches his ear, his eyes full of contempt.
"You paid the Imperial tax, sure, but what about the Baron's tax? Think you can dodge it?"
Magi freezes, the smile on his face slowly stiffening: "Wh… What? Imperial tax, Baron's tax… What's going on? I've never heard of this before!"
Johnny snorts, growing increasingly impatient. "That's because you're hard of hearing. Weren't you told clearly enough before? You paid the Imperial one; the Baron's isn't paid yet!"
The White Dew District is an administrative region directly under the Imperial jurisdiction, affiliated with the Holy City. However, not all the land here belongs to the Emperor; so parts are owned by the Emperor's vassals, naly the various barons of different ranks.
The reason for such a situation is mainly due to historical anomalies. After all, the Holy City a thousand years ago wasn't as vast as it is today, with a population barely over a hundred thousand. But now, any administrative district here has over ten thousand people, with an area comparable to the Earl Domain.
A system that's been around for over a millennium is bound to have its share of problems if left unaltered.
If soone lives within a baron territory in the White Dew District, they're likely subject to two sets of laws: one Imperial, the other the feudal codes of the nobles.
If it were a dozen years ago with soone like Ticky Cosia running things, it'd probably be hard to collect any taxes at all. But unfortunately for Old Magi, he's dealing with the "Clever" Baron Devor.
Magi trembles with fury, his face turning beet red: "This… this is unfair! Where's the sense in paying taxes twice? The Cosia family never did this!"
"What did you say?!"
Johnny glares, his expression instantly turning fierce, and he waves to the thugs behind him.
"Trash it! This old fool dares ntion that loser Cosia's na on the Baron's land. He's asking for it!"
Magi's face turns pale white, realizing too late he's misspoken, but unable to do anything about it.
Johnny, eager not to appear lenient in front of other servants, put his back into demonstrating loyalty to his master.
In an instant, chaos erupts in the yard as a group of strong thugs storm in, wreaking havoc and tearing apart the chicken coop.
"No, stop! Those are laying hens!" In the distance, the old woman throws down her clothes and rushes into the yard, begging them to stop, but to no avail.
Seeing the destruction of their ho, the youngest son bursts into tears, his cries drawing neighbors from around.
Seeing more people gathering, Johnny can't keep bullying, shooting a fierce glance at everyone there, and then turns to Magi with a nacing stare.
"Rember this old man, tomorrow's the deadline. If you can't pay by then, don't expect to keep this shabby house of yours!"
With that, he signals the thugs behind him, mounts his horse, and they catch a few flapping hens before swaggering off from the devastated courtyard.
Though they didn't get the money, at least they got a al out of it since Lord Devor wouldn't think much of a few chickens.
Looking at their wrecked ho and the sobbing old woman, Old Magi stands there ashen-faced, like a man drained of all energy, not even able to muster a single word.
For so reason, he recalls the old ox they sold to town the year before last.
That ox was an asset of Baron Devor, and he was quite fond of it, but it was getting too old, so it had to be sold.
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