About four days had passed since the meeting with the officers.
Aiden continued with his usual routine, waking up early to attend the territory's meetings.
Reports of problems from the more distant parts of his territory had reached him in these days, keeping his hands full.
In the evenings, he brought guests to his mansion, introducing them to Serena and discussing the territory's development.
Plans for the construction of the Hoyle Bank in the city were finalized, and Aiden had also met with the head of the Rimevale Adventurer's Guild.
Aiden remembered the guild leader's look of shock when he introduced himself, and they discussed incentive policies to attract more adventurers and retain those already in the city.
They agreed to lower taxes on bounty rewards and reduce the cost of gear sold in local shops.
Additionally, Aiden proposed a sponsorship system, where talented adventurers could work for him in exchange for sponsorship.
As the story progressed and the threat of the demon king grew, Aiden knew adventurers would play an increasingly vital role.
Some would even challenge the protagonist himself.
Aiden had also started purging the territory's guards and soldiers. Many of his "guests" were those who held significant influence over the troops.
With false rewards, captains left with smiles, thanking Aiden for his "kindness."
Rimevale was a large city.
Though it was in ruins, it still had many residents.
Some had emigrated, but most chose to stay—it was much safer here than braving the harsh winter elsewhere.
Now, Aiden stood in front of a mansion in one of the wealthiest parts of the city.
It wasn't as large as his own estate but occupied a considerable plot of land—a luxury for most citizens. Serena walked a step behind him.
Following them were two slaves that Roy had "gifted" him, both rank-four warriors with scarred faces and stern expressions, clad in armor. With these bodyguards, Aiden felt safer walking the streets alone.
It wasn't much, but it was enough for now.
The mansion's servants looked distressed as they saw Aiden enter, worried for their master's wellbeing.
"Guide me to where he is," Aiden told one of the servants.
His footsteps echoed through the polished ceramic floor.
His gaze remained cold and fixed ahead.
As they approached a room, a strong stench of rot and pus seeped from inside—a smell reminiscent of a hospital room where the patient's future was uncertain.
In the center of the room lay a king-sized bed, lavishly adorned, showcasing the wealth of its owner.
Propped up on the bed was a fat official, his face swollen and disfigured, with pained moans escaping him now and then.
Surrounding him were what appeared to be his family—four sons and three daughters, along with his three wives, clinging to his hands and whimpering.
Clearly, the man had lived his life to the fullest.
The room was thick with the sound of sobs, darkening the atmosphere despite the lights.
When they saw Aiden in the doorway, they all turned, eyes wide with surprise and hope.
They hadn't expected the lord himself to visit. Perhaps he had a way to save their husband.
One of the wives fell to her knees, crying desperately.
"My lord, please… I beg you, do something to save my husband."
Seeing this, the children knelt as well, pleading with him.
Aiden put on a somber expression, trying to console the weeping family.
Helping the wife to her feet, he spoke gently.
"Don't worry. I believe I have a solution for this."
Their eyes widened in shock; they hadn't dared hope this was true.
Their sobs grew louder as they thanked Aiden one by one, bowing their heads.
Putting on a troubled look, Aiden continued, "But…," he paused, "… I need to be alone with him for this."
Everyone quickly left the room, wiping their eyes and supporting one another, hoping the lord could indeed help.
Now only Aiden, Serena, and the two slaves remained in the room.
The kind smile he'd worn immediately faded, replaced by a cold, stern expression. His gaze was fixed firmly on the bed.
Approaching, Aiden took in the sight of the man sprawled before him. Both arms were blackened, rotted by some infection.
Abscesses of pus covered his skin, and the smell was enough to make Aiden grimace in discomfort.
The official's face was grotesquely swollen, his eyes hidden under layers of puffed-up flesh.
A dark stain spread from his arms halfway up his face, and a high fever seemed to be burning through him.
His moans filled the air, a portrait of suffering that might evoke pity in most people.
But Aiden's gaze was steady and ice-cold. He felt not the slightest pity for the man.
This suffering was well-deserved.
His father had been executed due to the actions of this lowlife.
Though the emperor had ordered his father's death for theft, it was the schemes of people like this man that had provided the excuse.
Aiden wouldn't be in such a difficult position if not for him and his associates.
Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he covered his hand and, with a firm grip, pinched the man's nose shut, forcing him to wake.
After a few seconds of holding his breath, the piggish man's eyes flickered open, his swollen lips parting in a gasp.
"Who… who's there?" he asked in a strained, labored tone, even speaking seemed an effort.
"It's me, your lord, Aiden," Aiden said, tossing the filthy cloth aside with a look of disgust.
"Lord Aiden? M-My lord… is it truly you?" The pig's voice cracked, the joy of recognition adding a new desperation to his voice.
Trembling, he choked out words between sobs.
"Please, my lord, do something! Save me… I don't want to die—wu, wu…"
His voice broke into such a pathetic whimper that Aiden's brows knit in distaste.
Keeping his tone steady, Aiden replied in a reassuring voice.
"Don't worry, I have an antidote. It will save your life." A pause. "But first… I need something from you."