Chapter 335: Dainya Town

“Crack!”

Li En locked the holy scripture to his belt with chains, letting it hang half-lowered behind him.

On the black dragon armor, paint was applied for the first time—musical notes and the sun’s holy symbol, painted over the right shoulder.

It was subtle, but those who knew would not miss it.

Technically, a series of religious decorations and coatings were still needed, but Li En already felt it was enough.

The newly acquired silver greatsword was sheathed on his back; its excessive length made it impossible to hang at his waist.

The original Hero’s Sword was put away; this half-length greatsword delivered devastating power when wielded with both hands, perfectly suited to Lex’s decisive and agile fighting style.

But for a heavy-armored greatsword warrior like Su Er, this blade, half a man’s length, might be too short; with Li En’s physique continuing to grow, the day he could wield it as a one-handed sword may not be far off.

“Silver-refined coating, adamantine composite steel, starry silver edge on the blade, and the sword enchanted with ‘Resilience III’—no matter what demon or monster, one swing is enough.”

The dwarf craftsman said so, but the two hundred gold coins cost—back then, to old Li En, was an unimaginable fortune, enough to buy two sets of ancestral heavy armor.

In truth, had this not been a small gift from Shaliman (commemorating the baron’s knighthood), he still would not have bought it—he’d have kept using the Hero’s Sword.

But now that he had a domain, he was no longer a “jobless, incomeless hero.”

In feudal times, taxes were always harsh, with several eras reaching seventy, eighty, even ninety percent (to the state).

The kingdom, in peacetime, levied roughly thirty percent on agriculture and small handicrafts, with trade taxes separate—already relatively merciful.

Li En set his rate at around twenty percent—not because he sought novelty, but because low taxation was standard practice to attract settlers to frontier regions; with additional policies waiving labor service and religious donations, taxes might drop to half that of other areas.

Li En’s head tax was still pending, but trade taxes were already substantial—after all, frontier towns built around underground ruins existed for this very purpose.

“Getting paid while lying down always feels a little uneasy.”

Though he now lived the dream of a “parasite”—sitting idle as money came to him—Li En felt a pang of guilt.

His moral standards, surpassing his era, made him utterly out of step with this time.

“Huh.”

Li En took a deep breath and stood straight.

Once clad in heavy armor, its weight sank his dragonhide boots into the earth.

Wearing the Gauntlets of Might, his movements were as slow as a cart—now a true heavy-armored warrior.

Compared to before, he had grown a full cycle taller; the dragon vein was the source of his bloodline, and his body naturally matured with time.

Even though his bloodline’s evolution had stalled, his flesh had still grown stronger on its own.

“I’m not far from becoming an adult dragon”—the standard for a young dragon is merely eighty dragon years; to many powerful beings, such a dragon is little more than a slightly larger lizard-like beast.

But for Li En, he felt clear gains in strength and physique, and knew he’d need new pants and clothes.

“My lord.”

“It’s Baron Sudar.”

“Why is he alone?”

“On patrol?”

Clad in full armor, Li En walked silently through the town.

In this era, a noble’s duty was roughly to protect the weak—since he received money, he might as well do a little work to ease his conscience.

The town before him already showed signs of prosperity: the Great Mirror Demon had become a portal between aboveground and underground, and streets radiating from it were lined with countless shops.

Supporting adventurers, buying their acquired materials, treasures, and special goods—just these two industries alone were enough to make this small town rich beyond measure.