I’m a Rebel in Another World

Chapter 64: The Reason for the Bandit Cleanup

When Knight Mark arrived with his guards, all he saw was Henwil charging through the bandits on horseback with a spear in hand.

At a glance Knight Mark recognized that Henwil was using cavalry battle tactics.

Not deliberately seeking to kill, but always keeping the speed advantage.

While probing for the enemy’s weak points to strike, he simultaneously achieved the goal of encirclement and containment.

Henwil’s horsemanship and archery were both excellent.

Even after breaking out of the enemy ranks, he could still twist in the saddle, nock an arrow, and pick off the bandits chasing from behind with deadly accuracy.

That left the bandits in a very awkward position: they couldn’t stop Henwil’s charge, nor dared they pursue him.

Moreover, Henwil’s warhorse was of exceptional quality, so they had no real chance to outrun him.

Once he had a clear picture of the situation, Knight Mark signaled his guards to form up, then drew his longsword and set a pointed wedge formation for a charge.

These guards had all been handpicked by Baron Jansen; they were skilled fighters who had seen blood, true elite troops.Their weapons and armor need no mention—complete plate, superior bows, and fine horses.

Even without bringing spears for a shock charge this time, they were not comparable to the bandits.

By the time the bandits realized something was wrong, they were already hard-pressed to organize an effective defense.

A dozen cavalry swept across the bandit group, and the guards miraculously suffered no fallen horses or losses.

On the other side, over twenty bandits had been knocked down, counting those slain earlier by Henwil.

The bandits had already lost more than half their number and no longer held a numerical advantage.

Realizing the situation was hopeless, the bandits immediately scattered and fled.

But they had come from far away; their mounts were tired and truly couldn’t outrun them.

Half an hour later, Henwil returned with the last bandit’s head.

The merchants who had been rescued were extremely grateful to Henwil for saving them.

Henwil refused to accept any payment, saying that since he had established the Trading Post, he would naturally protect their safety.

This earned Henwil very high praise among the passing merchant caravans.

For the following month, Henwil stayed in the Trading Post, leading the guards as he continuously patrolled the trade routes.

He clashed with bandits several more times; each battle was a decisive victory, and almost no bandit survived to escape.

Henwil’s reputation spread not only among the merchant caravans but also gradually reached the residents of Peace Point.

Of course, among the bandit communities his name was even more notorious.

But bandits did not believe some of the legends about Henwil; they couldn’t imagine a fourteen-year-old boy having such combat prowess, nor did they think he had the nerve to fight them.

Still, Henwil’s actions were indisputably disrupting their operations.

So several bandit groups planned to unite and teach this arrogant kid a harsh lesson.

Soon intelligence reached the Trading Post through the merchant caravans.

Knight Mark advised Henwil to return to the estate and have the Defense Officer dispatch troops to garrison there.

Henwil produced a hand-drawn map of Peace Point. “Knight Mark, where do you think Peace Point’s main income comes from?”

“Merchant caravans!”

Henwil nodded. “Indeed. Each year hundreds of caravans pass through here. Small ones number in the dozens, the big ones reach into the thousands.

They stay in Peace Point for about seven to fifteen days on average, and during that time they require many services.

From food to drink, from lodging to entertainment—everything costs money.

During their stay, each caravan member spends one to two gold coins on average.

It is that money that allowed Peace Point to recover to prosperity within just a few years after the war.

Caravan taxes are Peace Point’s largest fiscal revenue—nearly a hundred thousand gold coins a year.

Although our taxes are already low, only thirty percent, many caravans still prefer to take small roads to avoid our tax zone.

The small villages they pass through are poorly managed and hard to tax effectively, which causes a lot of tax leakage.

Because the villagers lack experience, the services they provide to caravans are cheap, so apart from the largest caravans, few choose our official road.

After investing so much to build the official road over the years, why do it?

Isn’t it to choke caravan traffic a bit and siphon off a portion of their wealth?”

In truth Henwil thought thirty percent was extremely high.

By his reasoning, ten percent would be ideal, twenty percent at most.

Gold certainly attracts people, but it is only cold metal and has limited effect by itself.

Money’s essence is to serve as a general equivalent.

The value behind it—whether goods or services—is the embodiment of productivity and labor.

If you can quickly make this territory prosperous and form a trade hub, endless profits will follow.

Unfortunately, Henwil was neither the local lord nor truly the baron’s son.

He could not set tax rates, but he could force caravans to use the official road as much as possible.

He could concentrate scattered labor in the villages to the areas he wanted,

thereby using that labor more effectively and collecting more taxes from the caravans.

Although Henwil had explained this clearly, Knight Mark simply didn’t have the mindset to understand and still couldn’t grasp why Henwil acted this way.

Helpless, Henwil dismissed the others and said to Knight Mark, “If we implement a high-pressure policy against bandits here, will bandits disappear?”

“Of course not. As long as trade routes exist, bandits won’t vanish. There will always be greedy, risk-taking people!”

Henwil traced several lines on the map—those were the routes small caravans often sneaked along.

“So, if we intensify bandit eradication, bandits who want to survive will have to go elsewhere for business.

Bandits can’t take us on, but they have overwhelming advantage over those small villages!

Bandits are made up of greedy, risk-taking people, and those small caravans taking the back roads are the same—let them collide!”

Only then did Knight Mark understand Henwil’s meaning. He looked at Henwil in astonishment, momentarily at a loss for words.

Henwil read his thoughts. “Knight Mark, you might think what I’m doing is underhanded, but making money has never been a charitable act.

We can politely advise caravans, and they might not listen!

But the bandits’ butchers will certainly make them appreciate the value of paying tax.”

Henwil patted Knight Mark on the shoulder. “You don’t yet have a knightly fief, only a title.

Even when you’re granted land in the future, managing it and establishing a knight’s estate will require a large sum.

Work well with me! I won’t let you suffer a loss!

Your future knight’s fief might very well be here—I guarantee you won’t worry about money!”

Saying things that way, Knight Mark had no more objections.

Henwil, however, had no genuine intention of governing the territory on behalf of the baron—after all, it wasn’t truly his.