HTLCCBFT Chapter 1

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 1

A lone convoy was making its way across a boundless, rolling green landscape.

Though called a convoy, its size was pitifully small: a mere five carriages, a number that couldn’t even compare to most merchants who did business in the major towns. One could imagine that when passing through major cities along their route, they would likely be treated with neglect and disdain by some of the haughty city gate guards.

The reality, however, was the complete opposite.

This was all because of the lead covered carriage.

Its design, which only the highest nobility could use, the countless magnificent jewels encrusted upon it, and the noble emblem that even the most ignorant person would recognize… all of it proclaimed that the person seated inside was a Duke, one of such stature as to make any lord bow their proud head in fearful reverence!

Fortunately, this Duke Oliver was exceptionally low-key. After a simple rest and resupply in their territory, he departed early the next morning, much to their relief.

Then, they couldn’t help but grow curious: why would such a distinguished personage—who ought to be comfortably ensconced in the lavish, golden capital so admired by countless minor nobles, fawned upon by an endless stream of people, and who likely never needed to take a single step out of the capital his entire life—appear here?

“If His Majesty were still alive, how could he possibly allow His Highness to suffer such a humiliation!”

Fosse said angrily.

He was different from these minor nobles whose ancestors had never been worthy of setting foot in the capital and who knew nothing of the inner workings of the court.

As the butler Fosse, who had been personally appointed by His Majesty the King to serve the fifth prince, Oliver, when he was not yet three years old, he had not only weathered countless storms but also felt immense resentment to this day for the recent plight of his master, Oliver, whom he had raised with his own hands and cherished most dearly.

As the youngest son, widely acknowledged at court as the old King’s most favored child, his master Oliver had been granted the title of Duke at the age of ten, bypassing his four elder brothers. Furthermore, the King had often smilingly praised him as the ‘Angel Duke’ at court balls.

The reason Oliver was so deeply favored by His Majesty was not only his incomparably dazzling appearance, evident since childhood, but also his remarkably simple mind, as pure and flawless as a true angel.

To the shrewd and calculating old King, Oliver, though unsuitable as an heir, was without a doubt the son he was most willing and felt most at ease to dote upon.

But just before the old King could select the most suitable and bountiful fiefdom for Oliver, he died a sudden and mysterious death.

And so, while a completely oblivious Oliver was still sound asleep, his ambitious elder brothers launched a coup with what could only be described as ‘tacit understanding’.

By the time he awoke, still too stunned to shed a tear for his father’s passing, the fourth prince, Cameron, the ultimate victor, had already decisively placed the crown upon his own head.

Perhaps it was because his only younger brother, Oliver, though already an adult, remained naive and childlike, posing no threat whatsoever.

The new king, Cameron, who had ruthlessly “sent off” his three “accidentally deceased” brothers, did not lay a murderous hand on him.But perhaps because he resented that Oliver had once been the old king’s favorite, or perhaps simply out of caution, Cameron decisively and swiftly drove the once incomparably noble Oliver out of the royal capital. To the public, he euphemistically called it the bestowal of ‘Laina City’ as a fiefdom.

Of course, this was a lie so blatant that not even the common folk on the streets of the royal capital would believe it, let alone the shrewd individuals within the capital.

What kind of place was Laina City?

Ha. It was a poor, remote backwater that had bizarrely lost eight consecutive lords in a single year due to various natural and man-made disasters, earning it the terrifying reputation of the ‘Cursed Land’!

Far from the royal capital, its lands were vast yet barren, and its population was sparse—of course, those lowly slaves weren’t worthy of being counted. It was a land of exile that even greedy tax collectors were unwilling to set foot in.

Knowing the truth was one thing, but to them, a duke who had failed to use the old king’s favor to build his own power and was now permanently exiled from the center of power was, of course, less important than currying favor with the new king.

Compared to Fosse, who grumbled indignantly about this at least three or four times a day, the man in question, Oliver, had been perfectly calm from beginning to end.

Of course he was calm: the “Angel Duke” Oliver, who had been so openly favored by the old king, was actually the result of a fragmented soul inhabiting his body.

Though he didn’t know why, after living for over twenty years in the modern world, his soul had suddenly transmigrated back to its rightful place, bringing with it a broken game system he was completely unfamiliar with—one his younger brother had once been obsessed with…

Just digesting the vast amount of information about his new environment and his body’s muddled memories had taken him nearly a month.

Before integrating the memories, he had no idea how to react to his butler, Fosse, who genuinely doted on him. He thus appeared especially silent, which in turn made the other man’s heart ache for him even more.

Fortunately, Fosse harbored no suspicions toward his seemingly melancholic master—after such a drastic upheaval, even an angel couldn’t possibly remain unchanged.

Helpless, Fosse could only curse the instigator of it all with even greater fury: the former fourth prince (he staunchly refused to acknowledge him as His Majesty the King), Cameron.

“Fosse.”

In Fosse’s eyes, even in the dim, stuffy carriage, his young master, with his long, brilliant golden hair and incomparably beautiful face, was still as dazzling as the sun.

Even after everything that had pained him so, his tone was still as gentle as a true angel’s. “Don’t be angry. Have some water.”

Cared for by his young highness, Fosse’s eyes burned. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

The loyal servant, his entire being radiating emotion, was clearly reflected in those beautiful eyes, as clear and blue as the waters of a shallow sea. After a short while, Oliver asked unhurriedly, “Are we almost at Laina?”

“Yes, yes.”

Fosse, his back ramrod straight as always, immediately replied, “We will arrive before sunset. This is truly too much for you to bear, Your Highness…”

Are we finally almost there?

Oliver automatically filtered out the old butler’s subsequent words, lifting a corner of the carriage curtain to peek outside.

The reason they had endured the stuffy heat and kept the curtains tightly closed on the road was because of the sheer amount of dust kicked up by the horses’ hooves.Although it was spring, it was clear that this area hadn’t seen rain for over half a month. Thick dust covered the exposed ‘road surface.’

Moreover, the path through these sparsely populated fields could not, of course, compare to the neat, flat stone-paved roads of the capital—what their carriage traveled on was less a road and more a relatively flat surface, improvised and chosen on the fly by a highly experienced coachman.

The closer they got to Laina City, the more desolate it felt. Even the cities they had passed through were connected by ‘roads’ that were clearly visible, covered in ruts of varying depths. But starting three days ago, after leaving the last city, not only had they not seen a single pedestrian on the road, but even the ‘road’ they were traveling on was frequently interrupted.

The interruptions to the road were not the result of deliberate destruction, but purely due to long-term disrepair and lack of use. Whether it was from subsidence of the land or being blocked by fallen tree trunks, the journey was destined to be rough and bumpy.

Fortunately, though his body appeared slender and frail, his constitution was quite good. Even Fosse, who came from a knightly background, was jostled until his face turned pale, yet Oliver had miraculously adapted well.

Oliver’s gaze passed through the gap in the curtain, fixing on a conspicuous building.

The stone structure, standing on the rolling hills, stood out starkly against the backdrop of the low, scattered houses around it, almost exaggerated into a magnificent marvel. It was a hundred times larger than the cluster of small, gray houses beside it, reaching at least four stories high, imposing and austere.

The size of a building was undoubtedly equivalent to the status of its owner, and this one unquestionably belonged to the lord of the land.

Which meant it was his future residence.

It’s actually a bit better than I imagined.

Oliver thought optimistically.

Before the billowing dust could further invade the carriage, he quickly lowered the curtain, having confirmed his general direction, and began to ponder in silence.

The excessively crude road, however, proved no match for the skilled coachman who had been personally bestowed upon the beloved son by the old king.

Before long, the convoy, which had already attracted the attention of people busy in the fields, revealed its awe-inspiring full view under their restrained scrutiny.

Occasionally, a small merchant’s caravan, finding business in the big cities too difficult, would choose to try their luck in Laina City. Whenever such people arrived, the young children not yet old enough to help their families would eagerly swarm forward. Disregarding the coachman’s angry attempts to drive them away, they would hastily grab onto parts of the carriage, all for the sake of earning a meager ‘inn referral fee.’

This time, however, no one dared to do so.

In fact, the coachman of the leading covered carriage was neatly dressed and had a calm expression. He was not like those hired by small merchants, who would furiously curse at them or even violently shoo them away…

The children did not understand what a dignified aura was, yet they were already deeply intimidated to their very bones.

As for the adults, although the vast majority were illiterate and lacked the sharp eye to recognize the crest exclusive to the ‘Angel Duke’ on the carriage, they could still discern that the new lord’s status was likely more noble than their barren imaginations could conceive, just from the number of jewels inlaid on the carriage body—a quantity that probably surpassed the combined total on the carriages of the previous eight lords.

They exchanged silent glances, a deep fear surfacing in their once-numb eyes.For them, this was undoubtedly terrible news. In their experience, the more noble a person was, the more they detested everything here—and the more cruel they were.

Of course, Oliver was completely unaware of the fear felt by the residents of the fief.

Fosse’s estimation of the journey’s length was frighteningly accurate. Just as the last rays of the setting sun fell upon the carriage, the clip-clop of hooves that had marked their entire journey finally ceased.

They had arrived.

Fosse’s lips were pressed into a thin line. Even in such a poor, wild land, his back remained ramrod straight, and his clothes were without a single crease.

Just as he would when escorting his young master to a court banquet, he disembarked first. After giving a stiff bow toward the carriage, he stooped slightly to help Oliver down.

Oliver’s muscle memory reacted just as naturally. After elegantly stepping down from the carriage with Fosse’s assistance, he found himself standing in the wide-open world again, no longer confined to a cramped space. He couldn’t help but turn to take it all in.

The lord’s imposing stone castle was built on the highest point of the hill, surrounded by wooden houses of various shapes. In the distance, the trees in the forest swayed, and the figures of people toiling in the fields were hazy.

He could clearly hear the flapping of chickens’ and ducks’ wings, as well as the chirping of insects from afar.

This so-called ‘cursed land,’ which nobles spoke of with such disdain, was actually a simple and lovely sight under the gentle glow of the setting sun.

Oliver quietly admired it for a moment, but he ultimately couldn’t stand the foul smell that the wind carried intermittently, its presence nonetheless intense. He decided to head into the castle first.

But just before stepping inside, his peripheral vision seemed to catch something.

At the end of the road they had traveled, theoretically the entrance to the fief, stood two solitary wooden posts from which two long shadows hung.

Out of curiosity, he casually asked a question that he would regret for the entire night: “What is that? Is it cured meat made by the villagers?”

Why would they hang it in a place where it could be so easily stolen? Was it because the local customs were so simple that people didn’t even lock their doors?

Faced with his kind and innocent young master’s question, Fosse, the butler who was usually as hard as iron toward outsiders, fell silent for the first time.

Meanwhile, a manservant who had served several lords in the castle and desperately wanted to keep this well-paying job that supported his family, waited nervously for a moment before forcing a sycophantic smile and answering in a low voice on Fosse’s behalf.

—”Your Highness, those are the air-dried corpses of thieves.”

The author has something to say:
There are a few points to clarify, please take a look before deciding whether to follow or not.

1. Originally, this was a Stardew Valley fanfiction, but later, the editor informed me that single-game fanfics couldn’t get verified. It had to be either a crossover involving three or more games or an original game setting (though the inspiration is entirely from Stardew Valley). I didn’t want to make it too complex, so I chose the latter. If you mind this, I can only say sorry.
2. This work is not historically accurate; it’s a mix of Western fantasy and game elements (historical accuracy wouldn’t fit). I’ve incorporated some medieval background on my own.

Love you all!

TL here: This is an edited MTL! Please let me know if you find any mistakes, or if you think certain areas could have been translated differently/incorrectly.
You’ll find that the story often swaps between serfs and slaves – it’s not a translation error; the author uses the term interchangeably, so please ignore the difference between the two terms and take it as a generic shorthand for ‘oppressed laborers’