Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

Abel knew he couldn't interfere with the local lord's rule—hadn't they done the same in the Marquisate of Yeats? But in that instance, there had been an obvious mistake; the marquis had secretly defied the emperor's orders, and thus deserved punishment.

Earl Caldwell, however, was guilty only of collecting too many taxes—no real crime. He was merely exercising his authority as lord.

"My honor won't be tarnished if this becomes known," Abel thought.

Excessive taxes were a common occurrence in local fiefdoms. Since it was spring, the lord's warehouses were likely empty, necessitating a collection to keep the estate running. Surely, no one would complain.

"This is too much trouble. Do I really need to see Count Caldwell?" Cordell McNeil suddenly asked.

Guided by Caldwell's knights, Abel had listened to this complaint more times than he could count. Cordell had been grumbling about it the entire way.

"I'm just here to say hello, to get to know each other better. It wouldn't hurt, right?"

Abel replied, feigning innocence. Cordell's eyes brimmed with distrust, as if wondering how Abel could lie so smoothly. But Abel knew he couldn't reveal his true feelings with Caldwell's knights walking beside them.

"You may enter here," one of the knights announced, holding open a door.

"Thank you."

Abel smiled broadly, stepping into the room.

The reception room was simple yet refined, not as extravagant as he'd expected for a lord who collected high taxes.

'Perhaps a surprisingly frugal style,' he thought.

Abel imagined a town like Ortiz, taxed so heavily, would yield an extravagant lifestyle for its lord. But when Count Caldwell finally entered, he looked anything but opulent.

There was something austere, almost priestly about him—no, more like a knight. He had a sturdy physique, giving off a quiet strength.

"Nice to meet you, Your Highness, the Duke of Carriers. My name is Rogelio Caldwell," he greeted, brief and formal.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

There was no obsequious flattery, yet he wasn't disrespectful either.

Abel matched Caldwell's tone. "Good to meet you, Count Caldwell. I apologize for this unexpected visit."

"Haha! You are most welcome. It is an honor to have the renowned Duke of Carriers grace our estate," Caldwell replied as they took their seats and exchanged pleasantries, the usual noble formalities.

Abel, however, subtly slipped in the question he had wanted to ask.

"How are things going these days? I hear everyone is struggling with the spring famine."

"This happens every year. The people dig up roots to eat, but we can't just expand our farmland."

"Is it that difficult to increase your wheat fields?"

"This is a common problem in local fiefdoms. Each time we plow new land, it just gets destroyed."

"No, why is that?"

"I know it may seem obvious, but the answer is simple: monsters."

Abel felt a pang of disappointment.

Was that really the best excuse? In a county with power comparable to a small kingdom, excessive taxes were collected simply because they couldn't fend off monsters?

"How strong could these monsters possibly be to destroy a count's wheat fields?" Abel asked.

"It's not just one monster," Caldwell answered. "It's a colony."

Abel blinked, momentarily taken aback.

'Colony?' he thought, imagining something like ants or bees. If these were monstrous creatures that attacked in swarms, it would indeed be difficult to handle them with just knights and a territorial army.

Swallowing, Abel ventured further. "What kind of creatures are we talking about?"

Caldwell smiled wryly, as if reluctant to continue. After hesitating, he finally replied, "Carp."

"…?"

Abel was stunned.

Did Caldwell really just say carp? This didn't make sense—fish were hardly known to ravage land. "Are you certain about that?"

Caldwell, reading the confusion on Abel's face, clarified with a bitter expression, "It's really carp."

Abel found himself dumbfounded.

****

Abel traveled with Caldwell to the southern border of the estate to confirm the source of the damage firsthand. No matter how much Caldwell explained, Abel still couldn't wrap his head around it.

"Over there," Caldwell pointed.

"It's…not a river?" Abel asked, bewildered.

"They're unique creatures. They burrow out from underground."

"So, you're saying they ruin the wheat fields by digging holes?"

"Yes, they tunnel through the ground and leave large craters."

From Caldwell's description, they did sound terrifying. But carp? It was simply absurd.

"This is one of their most recent incursions." Caldwell gestured toward the scene, and Abel couldn't help but gape.

The field was in ruins—a 10-meter-wide hole stretched before him, with a mound of dirt piled beside it. It was a sight he would expect from a battlefield, as though it had been bombarded for hours.

"This is worse than I imagined," Abel muttered.

"The damage isn't limited to newly cultivated land," Caldwell said. "It's spreading to previously farmed areas as well." Abel noted the different-colored soil patches across the distance, suggesting filled-in holes.

"It must be draining to constantly fend them off," Abel said sympathetically.

"We're nearly broke. We've been raising taxes, but it's unsustainable."

Abel considered the sheer labor costs required to keep the carp at bay. Hiring mercenaries to fight these creatures would be no small expense.

"Have you sought support from the central government?" Abel asked.

Caldwell's expression turned uneasy. "We hoped to handle it ourselves at first. But now, things have gone too far."

"You should petition His Majesty the Emperor, even if it's belated," Abel advised.

"I did send a letter," Caldwell admitted, "but unless someone sees the devastation firsthand, they won't understand the severity."

"Then I will submit a separate request. I'm on my way to the capital, after all."

"Your Highness the Duke!" Caldwell said solemnly, before suddenly dropping to one knee. "Please, I beg you. Lead your soldiers and rid us of these creatures!"

Abel held back a laugh, finding the gravity of Caldwell's plea incongruous with the fact that their enemy was… carp. Yet, Caldwell's desperation was unmistakable. Abel's resolve strengthened; he couldn't ignore the plight of a noble driven to such lengths for his land. And it would indeed be quicker than waiting for central aid.

But something still seemed amiss. "If you've failed repeatedly, you must realize it's difficult to manage alone. Why not seek help from neighboring territories?"

Caldwell scowled. "Those scoundrels only offered troops in exchange for my land and the luminous stone mine—the lifeblood of our estate!"

Abel frowned at the severity of Caldwell's words but understood why he felt so bitter. It was indeed a harsh reality.