Ch.238Alcohol Regulations (2)

The intermediate adventurer François had been enjoying happy days recently.

After experiencing the terrifying ordeal of an entire city targeting his life, simply living a quiet, ordinary existence in this village brought him immeasurable happiness.

But the true reason he could find happiness was that this village maintained a reasonably livable atmosphere, unlike other frontier settlements.

Most frontier villages François had witnessed during his activities until his mid-thirties were barely surviving day to day in extreme environments.

The vast majority of people were preoccupied with finding their next meal, and the villages, far from developing, were mostly worse off than typical rural hamlets.

Naturally, they couldn’t even grow wheat, with most cultivating rye or turnips while hunting and gathering to barely scrape by. In terms of poverty, they were arguably worse off than most serfs.

In many cases, they were even driven to slaughter the oxen or pack horses sent as migration subsidies. With food shortages and barren environments, most settlements reached a point where pioneering itself became impossible.

Far from expanding human territory by developing new land and cultivating fields, these were communities that would likely starve to death without food supplies from their domains.

However, this frontier village was clearly different.

Despite being only in its first year, the village was already planting proper crops like wheat and barley—especially grains—while various vegetables grew in garden plots, preparing to grace their tables.

Each household had its own hen, and the village collectively owned at least ten pack horses. One could even easily spot privately owned horses or donkeys.

Coming from an impoverished rural village himself, François knew well that livestock was the measure of wealth in such places, so the fact that this frontier settlement lived so prosperously was quite impressive to him.

Additionally, guards—something he thought exclusive to cities—patrolled throughout the village, and the goods sold at the market were clearly different from what one would find in an ordinary rural village.

Textiles, linen, leather, fur, various furniture, and household goods. In rural villages that typically operated on simple barter economies, the very concept of a permanent market where goods were bought and sold was fascinating in many ways.

For modern people, being able to buy things with money is “common sense,” but considering that there are places in this world where the value of currency isn’t recognized at all, his amazement was understandable.

But François’s shock didn’t end there.

‘…Aren’t there quite a lot of intermediate-ranked people here?’

The unusual number of intermediate-ranked individuals for a village of 500 people was quite refreshing, as was the mandatory education provided to all children in the village, which was surprisingly progressive.

Considering when the concept of universal childhood education emerged on Earth, this was quite remarkable to François, who was essentially a medieval person.

But what shocked François more than anything else was that the lord had distributed land equally to all villagers.

“What? You’re saying the lord distributed… that much land to everyone?”

“Oh yes, indeed! Isn’t this all due to the mercy bestowed by Lord Alzar, blessed by the heavenly gods?”

When he first heard from a farmer he met at a tavern that such vast tracts of land had been distributed equally to each individual, François was genuinely astonished.

Typically, when someone is a lord—or rather, someone destined to become the lord when a village becomes a manor—they generally consider the surrounding land as rightfully theirs and try to monopolize it.

Even without implementing a serf system, they could lease land to farmers and extract both rent and taxes, and above all, land in this world is the foundation of a ruler’s power.

It produces food to sustain the population, plays an economic role through taxation, and grants the “power” to govern the people bound to the land.

Yet the lord François was observing was simply giving away this power freely, which was incredibly strange from his perspective.

Lord Alzar had implemented this policy from a ruler’s standpoint, believing that fostering independent farmers was key to increasing pre-modern agricultural efficiency, and that increasing national wealth was ultimately to his benefit…

But considering how few people would actually implement such a policy, François’s high regard for this was unlikely to diminish.

In any case, as he viewed this village with great admiration…

‘…This is quite nice.’

As he quietly observed how the village operated, he found that it provided a rather favorable environment for adventurers as well.

First, the ability to rent quality accommodations at reasonable prices and the fact that one could buy things with money were significant advantages.

For adventurers who frequently traveled, struggling in villages where currency wasn’t accepted was a common experience, so not having to deal with that was definitely beneficial.

Then there were the potions sold in the village. While their effects weren’t particularly extraordinary, they were surprisingly affordable, making them items with inevitable demand.

A medicine that could improve a fatal wound from killing you in 10 seconds to killing you in an hour, with some ability as an antidote and remedy.

Being able to purchase such items for just 10 silver coins per bottle (glass bottle cost extra) was nothing short of a godsend for adventurers whose lives were constantly in danger.

Additionally, the low cost of living was another advantage for them.

Surprisingly strong and tasty beer sold at half the price of city beer, and if one was determined to live cheaply, they could get by on just a few copper coins per day.

Moreover, despite the influx of many adventurers, public safety remained excellent, and the area around the village was surprisingly secure, meaning one wouldn’t encounter bandits while passing through.

However—that was all in the past.

‘…Hmm?’

On a bright day, as François was heading to his favorite tavern for a delicious beer, his eyes caught a proclamation posted on the wall by the domain.

“Entry… permit? Alcohol tax?”

The content detailed several new systems being introduced due to recent crimes committed by outsiders, among which the entry permit and alcohol tax particularly caught François’s attention.

The entry permit was a registration system targeting non-villagers, with a clear intention of controlling who entered the village.

‘…Ah, is this what that was?’

François recalled the small wooden tag given to him that morning, which had a strange name written on it—it turned out to be an identity verification tag for outsiders.

Having experienced entry control permits in several cities before, François actually wondered why they hadn’t implemented such a system earlier.

On the other hand, regarding the tax imposed on alcohol for outsiders… François honestly felt it was inevitable.

The adventurers must have caused quite a ruckus while drunk. At the point where they themselves created the justification for their own regulation, the domain’s measures seemed entirely reasonable—so much so that François couldn’t think much beyond “it can’t be helped.”

In fact, given that they could have justifiably expelled all outsiders, the fact that they merely added a small tax on alcohol seemed merciful in comparison.

Anyway, for these reasons, the tax imposed on alcohol amounted to 300% of the original price.

This meant that drinks were now four times more expensive, but thinking about it carefully, aside from the impact of the word “four times,” the price itself remained reasonable.

The cost of living was already low, and the beer was only half the price of tasteless alternatives elsewhere, so even after a fourfold increase, the final price was only about twice as much.

Though it might seem expensive, considering the value of a cold village beer, there was plenty of room for acceptance.

‘…Doesn’t affect me anyway.’

Even so, having arrived with plenty of money, François wasn’t going to run short of funds because of this, so he soon resumed his cheerful stride toward the tavern and inn—”The Little Boot”—as his destination.

Delicious drinks and food awaited him.