The Knight King Who Returned with God-Chapter 13 Medieval Taxes

"You lowly merchant! How dare you blaspheme the sacred!"

Leon's thunderous voice was no mere outburst.

As a living saint and demigod, the highest-ranked being in the human world, every word he spoke carried magic.

And that wrath—when it came from such a being—was not something an ordinary human could bear.

"Hrk...!"

It became hard to breathe. His eardrums rang. His mind grew hazy.

The fury of a divine emissary—something mere mortals couldn't even imagine—was enough to make Director Park's heart skip a beat.

And even if he couldn't understand the cause of the rage, one thing became painfully clear:

The fate of Park Jongchan, Executive Director of Doojeong Group, hung completely in the hands of this otherworlder.

"Y-Your Majesty!"

Sensing the imminent danger, Hari quickly stepped in front of Leon. Her knees trembled, but she stood firm as she pleaded.

"P-please, you mustn't! If he dies, we'll be... in serious trouble!"

Being a "Survivor" didn't mean she had blanket immunity. Understanding Leon's culture and class system only went as far as not committing crimes.

And while Leon's value couldn't even be compared to that of a corporate executive, this was still too much.

"Hmph. Your counsel is appreciated, but don't mistake me. I am no wild beast, rampaging without restraint."

With those words, both Hari, Director Park, and the secretaries let out a breath of relief. Park wiped the cold sweat from his brow—he had narrowly escaped death.

"Foolish one. You have condemned yourself."

"W-what? I-I don't understand..."

What did he do wrong? Sure, he tried to lowball the price. But how could a barbarian who'd only been on Earth for a week possibly know that?

Feeling wronged, Director Park spoke cautiously.

"I-I truly don't understand what I did wrong..."

"Haah... Can one truly be so ignorant, so blind?"

By now, Leon's gaze shifted from scorn to pity.

"That crop... is the product of land blessed by Demera. It is the harvest granted to the farmers who till the soil with sweat under the grace of divinity."

Human beings cannot survive alone.

When famine strikes, they must endure hunger—yet still go out to tend the fields.

They dig into the soil, stealing seeds from the earth.

"And so, those who become farmers must give thanks to the land and to the divinity that forms it."

Faith. Sacredness. The divine blessings.

One must first recognize that.

These are not things that can be bought with gold—they are bestowed upon those with grateful hearts and devout faith.

"Foolish youth, who chases vulgar profit and deceives others—how can you seek to profit from the divine fruits of a god you do not even believe in?"

"P-profit...!"

Grinding his teeth, Park Jongchan stepped back. His expression clearly said we'll see about this, as he turned to leave.

Hari, watching him go, voiced her concern.

"U-um... will that be alright? He may be nothing but a lowborn merchant in your eyes, but... he does hold considerable influence."

"Hmph. Not even worth bothering with."

It wasn't that Leon underestimated the power of merchants or corporations.

In modern civilization, corporations played a colossal role. They had expanded their influence across the world, rooted in the soil of capitalism.

"But with the Pantheon at my side, I will not be shaken by some mere merchant."

Leon didn't just have confidence—it was certainty.

He was the one chosen by the holy deities of the Pantheon.

A king recognized by the heavens themselves.

He was living proof of the divine right of kings.

Even emperors of great empires, steel dwarves from underground cities, and forest guardians all acknowledged the authority of a demigod.

Only the reckless dared treat a divine emissary lightly.

And in the world soon to be shaped by the sacred, they would be left behind.

There was no need to waste time on ignorant fools who didn't know their place.

"By the way, has the task I ordered been prepared?"

"Ah, yes... You mean the missionary activities for the farmers?"

"Correct. It won't be to this country's detriment either."

Hari remembered Leon's request from a few days ago—and unsurprisingly, the Hunter Association had been in chaos.

"In fact, we were contacted before Director Park arrived. It seems there's suitable land..."

There were too many options—that was the real problem.

If Leon could solve that, there was no reason the Hunter Association wouldn't support him. Even the President had expressed delight upon hearing about it.

After the Gate Catastrophe, humanity lost vast stretches of farmland.

Governments, overwhelmed with dealing with gates in urban areas, had failed to detect those that opened in rural or remote regions.

As a result, countless gates underwent dungeon breaks, and massive amounts of land were contaminated.

The only reason humanity didn't suffer a full-scale food crisis was because so many people had already died.

Some plains, having failed to be reclaimed in time, became permanently contaminated—creating waves of refugees.

Naju Plains.

One of the farmers who had worked that land his entire life... was old man Choi.

"Dad... You're staring at the fields again this early in the morning?"

"..."

Despite his son's words, the old man simply gazed in silence at his once-fertile land—now tainted by magical contamination.

He was now working part-time at the local supermarket with government aid. But just five years ago, he was still farming the Naju plains.

He had spent his whole life—nearly eighty years—plowing fields behind an ox or driving a tractor.

But five years ago, when a red-class gate triggered a dungeon break, the entire Naju Plain was engulfed in magical contamination.

It was so severe that many farmers, including old man Choi, lost their land.

"Haa..."

Nothing could be done on land tainted by mana corruption. Ordinary people would be contaminated just by stepping onto it, and only Hunters could endure it for a short while.

No one wanted to purchase land where crops couldn't grow. While government subsidies were available depending on land size, the money was mere pocket change.

Even with regular applications of purification elixirs bought from the Mage Tower, the effect was limited. On land that had been severely corrupted, even those elixirs were useless.

"The next new elixir will probably work. Maybe the one after that will be even better."

Old Man Choi had spent all his savings to buy elixirs from the Mage Tower. By now, he was the only one still buying them in the nearby area.

"Just give up already, Dad. Even the government can't do anything about that land."

"Shut your mouth! You and your siblings— you all were raised on rice that came from that land! Went to college because of it! Do you even understand what kind of land that is?! That land is everything I built in my lifetime!"

He was born during the time of a great war that had split the nation. Raised in a land reduced to ruins, he grew up on chocolates handed out by American soldiers.

He had a big dream.

To one day own land he could proudly call his own and to farm it. To raise his children with dignity.

He bought the land with money earned fighting Viet Cong in Vietnam, risking his life. Whenever he had extra savings, he expanded his holdings.

That land—those fields—were everything to Old Man Choi.

He had thought: just one last harvest, and he could pass everything on to his children, wrapping up his life in peace.

"Damn monsters. Damn those wicked beasts!"

They had come and defiled his land. For 25 years, he had feared that a gate might appear and ruin everything, and he had prayed it wouldn't happen to his land. But in the end, it had.

Now, he had only one wish.

Just once. Just one more time, to plant seedlings on his land and see the golden rice swaying in the wind.

Before he died, he just wanted to see that again—once.

"Dad, did you hear what the village head said? Something about a Hunter Association introducing someone?"

"Probably just another new elixir. Useless junk that costs a fortune."

The elixirs from the Mage Tower were expensive. Even with government subsidies, they were a heavy burden.

And even then, their success rate for purification wasn't high. If you were unlucky, it could take two years.

And they didn't work at all on heavily tainted land like the Naju Plain.

"Whatever nonsense they're spouting, let's just hear it."

Old Man Choi always cursed the Association and the Mage Tower, but he never missed a meeting. He wanted to cling to even the tiniest thread of hope.

"I am Leon Dragonia Lionheart. I have come to spread faith among you."

At the village hall, a golden-haired nobleman appeared alongside Association staff, saying things far more ridiculous than the usual Mage Tower magicians.

And then—

Golden crops sprouted on Old Man Choi's land.

"...Ah..."

That land hadn't been purified even after pouring expensive elixirs onto it, after holding shamans' rituals, after bringing in church pastors to bless it.

A cursed land where not even weeds or pests could grow.

But then... and yet...

"Aaaah...!"

Old Man Choi knelt before the blond man. Grateful for the miracle, he asked,

"Wh—Who are you?!"

Salesmen from the Mage Tower, noisy shamans, priests who said it was all a test from God...

Compared to all of them, this man before him was God—his savior.

"O farmer with noble hands. I am the Lion-Hearted King, the representative of the Pantheon. I have come to bring you divine blessings of life and prosperity."

On this day, Earth gained the first devotee of Demera. And following him, all the farmers of the tainted lands knelt in reverence.

It actually worked.

Hari stood in awe as she looked over the now-purified Naju Plain.

The Honam Plains were still only in the early stages of contamination. The Mage Tower's elixirs could still purify that land.

To Hari and the other Association employees, it was easy to believe that the purification of the Honam Plain had simply been due to Leon's unique powers.

But Leon continued to insist that it was a divine miracle and demanded a proper venue to prove it.

That venue was the Naju Plain.

A barren wasteland utterly corrupted after a Red Gate's dungeon break five years ago.

Even the latest elixirs from the Mage Tower had no effect on it.

And Leon had boldly declared he would purify it—under certain conditions.

"First, deliver my message to the President. I had hoped to meet in person, but alas."

"C-Can we maybe let that one slide..."

Eventually, the suggestion was passed along via phone call, and the President granted the Hunter Association the authority to proceed.

"As per the contract, 8,735 hectares of farmland in the Naju Plain will be incorporated under His Majesty's guild as sponsor-backed territory. Of course... this is contingent on the residents' consent and on selling the 'blessed rice' to the government."

"I care not."

With the Association's help, Leon established a guild in Korea. Its name: Pantheon. A name meant to spread the faith of the divine across this world.

The guild was granted a special autonomous zone where its members could live, train, and conduct support operations.

Including blacksmiths, magical equipment workshops, and associated businesses—complete with tax benefits.

The law allowing this had been passed reluctantly due to the abuse of power by the top 10 guilds, but thanks to it, Leon had been granted a legitimate fiefdom.

Of course, the government had put minimal safeguards in place to ensure it wasn't permanent.

"Fear not. I have no desire to covet legal lands of a foreign nation. This is purely to spread divine faith. When the time comes, I will return it to the President."

"Umm... technically, you mean to the people..."

Leon had no interest in owning land in this country. It was too small to satisfy his ambitions.

To restore the glory of the Kingdom of Lionheart, he needed more than this. He already had his eyes set on an appropriate springboard—and planned to expand once his influence grew.

"First, you'll need to get consent from the local residents to be integrated into His Majesty's guild. Special autonomous zones require official residency."

"No problem."

Leon approached the waiting farmers. Some were middle-aged, others were elderly.

"Ah, ah... You've arrived, Leon Dr... Dreu..."

Old man Choi bowed his head in greeting, but he couldn't quite remember Leon's long name.

'Ah... he's gonna get scolded...'

That was His Majesty Lionheart—the one who scolded people harshly and didn't even permit others to casually speak his name.

But contrary to Hari's expectations, Leon simply smiled gently and spoke.

"'Your Majesty' is more than enough, elder."

"Oh dear... my apologies, sir."

'What the heck! Playing favorites, are we?!'

Hari pouted, but Leon continued speaking.

"Choi Cheol-jin, was it?"

"Yes, that's right."

"You have sworn to serve the divine goddess of life and abundance, Demera. What of the others?"

At that, a middle-aged man stepped forward.

"S-So... does that mean you'll purify our land too?"

At his question, Leon frowned. Though clearly displeased, he spoke as one would to ignorant commoners.

"Do not attempt to barter with the divine. I promise no rewards."

He held a deep disdain for transactional faith.

He detested shallow religions that promised wishes in exchange for offerings, devotion, or tithes.

One cannot trade with the divine.

Only by offering true faith would the divine, in its wisdom, bestow grace upon you.

To desire rewards for belief was to doubt the divine and reduce it to a negotiable entity.

"I shall offer you the proper teachings. Will you hear the sacred doctrine?"

"I—I believe. I will believe."

"I do not force belief. It is a choice each must make."

At that moment, a young man stepped forward. A rare sight in the countryside... though in truth, he was a son who inherited his late father's land and had been invited here.

"Um, I... go to church..."

"That's fine. You may believe in both."

"R-Really?"

"Indeed. There exist many divine beings. How can one choose just a single god when there are so many noble ones in this world?"

The faith of the Pantheon welcomed many.

It was a polytheistic faith from the start, unrestricted by doctrine.

"To follow the teachings and put them into practice is up to you. I will never demand belief."

Of course, if someone turned out to be a worshipper of evil gods, he'd swiftly lop off their heads and tear their souls to shreds.

"Join my guild. Through proper legal process, enter the sanctuary I shall establish, and receive the teachings of the goddess."

"Please! Please let me join!"

Old man Choi fervently accepted the faith. Not the state, nor the Mage Tower, nor any shaman or priest had accomplished such a miracle.

He had come face to face with a living divine being—one who had purified his land.

How could he not believe?

How could he not be grateful to the one who gave this old body the chance to farm once more?

Having finally seen his life's work restored, Old man Choi bowed low, tears streaming with joy.

"I-I will follow you."

"M-Me too...!"

Those who had hesitated began stepping forward one by one.

This land, tainted with mana, had become worthless. But now it could be restored—what did they have to lose?

"Do you swear to follow the goddess of life and abundance and uphold her teachings?"

"We, we swear!"

"We swear!"

Thus, they officially became residents affiliated with Leon's guild—the Pantheon.

Leon knew that their focus now was on land purification, but he was sure that, in time, they would find true faith.

"Very well. If you believe and follow, then you are children of the goddess. As her representative, I shall bestow her blessing."

Leon raised the chalice and poured holy water upon the heads of the new believers.

The divine energy flowed into them through their crowns, filling them with a strange, wondrous power.

'I—I can think so clearly... my body's overflowing with energy!'

'The world looks different!'

'I-Is that straw doll really a goddess?!'

'Oh divine goddess... Oh, Demera...!'

With faith beginning to blossom, the power of belief was being funneled through the Lionheart. The goddess Demera would surely convert that into divine energy.

"Build a temple. It need not be grand. It is enough for all to gather and pray together each week."

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Leon spread the teachings of life and abundance. It was nothing complicated—just live by the doctrine, and all would be well.

And then, the moment everyone had been dreading finally arrived.

"So... how should we pay our tithe?"

The new believers, though accepting of the new faith, were uneasy.

Religion, after all, had a way of demanding donations under every excuse.

Tithes to help their kids study better, to expand the temple, for blessings, or for ceremonies...

They'd barely been scraping by. It had been five years since they could properly farm—it was understandable.

"There is only one thing you must offer."

At those words, a hint of relief spread across their faces. No new donation every holiday or seasonal festival? This was practically a blessing—

"Nine-tenths."

"...Excuse me?"

The followers blinked in disbelief, wondering if they'd misheard. Leon declared proudly:

"Offer nine-tenths of your yield as tithe. How merciful, is it not?"

At that moment, standing behind him, Hari had a very different thought:

'This guy's a total tyrant!'