The day was here. They all sat, nervous, around a table in the village hall conference room. Even the unshakable Kaito showed a blip of weakness. But now, there was no turning back. Portia’s and Angelina’s hands shook as they sorted the stacks of documents into manageable piles, aiming to make document finding as easy as possible. Edweth, the eighty-year-old secretary, was on her fifth cup of coffee, looking like she was on the brink of a heart attack.
But they were ready. And everything was coming down exactly how Kaito had predicted.
Neo Proudmantle was the name. The tax collector had arrived at the village before first light.
The no-nonsense auditor surveyed the group with a permanent scowl in his face that was already calculating what coins he could extract from the peasants. His leather bag contained scrolls filled with charts and figures to tally every chicken, every sack of grain. Neo had a reputation across the kingdom for being cold, greedy, and unmovable—he would bleed a village dry of every copper piece owed to the crown.
“Good morning, Mr. Proudmantle. I'm Kaito Smith. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Kaito extended a hand, maintaining a courteous demeanor. “I trust your journey to Calmo Village was comfortable? Allow me to introduce, Zenith, our esteemed Mayor, along with Portia, her executive assistant, Angelina, our chief administrative secretary, and Jogid, the operations and logistics coordinator.”
Neo Proudmantle nodded curtly. “And your role, Mr. Smith?” His voice was crisp, business-like.
Kaito smiled slightly, “I oversee the village's fiscal records. Ensuring everything is in order for your visit.” He gestured at the organized stacks of ledgers and receipts occupying nearly half the long table. “I've prepared all the necessary documents for your review. Please, let me know how I can assist you further in your work.”
Neo straightened his spectacles and withdrew a large ledger from his briefcase, along with a ruler, abacus, and one bottle of black ink. This was no warm welcome or casual review—it was a battlefield, and weapons had been drawn.
His beady eyes scanned the nervous village representatives seated across from him. “I trust you have compiled and organized the pertinent records?” he asked in a reedy voice. Not waiting for a response, Neo opened the ledger to a blank page, dipped his quill pen in obsidian ink, and inscribed ‘Calmo Village—Tax Audit’ in bold lettering. He stacked several loose sheets of paper and weighed them down with the abacus and inkwell.
And so, the two warriors engaged in a battle more brutal than any clash of swords or magic.
“Now then,” Neo said, lacing his bony fingers together, “let us review your grain stores inventory from the past five harvests. I do hope for your sake the numbers match up.” His lip curled in a hint of a smile.
The first fireball was cast.
Certainly, Mr. Proudmantle. The documentation is all here.” He gestured to a neatly organized pile of papers. “Highlighted, itemized...and, thanks to a community effort, impeccably maintained.”
For the next several hours, Kaito and Neo engaged in a meticulous review of Calmo Village's fiscal details. Each query from Neo was met with a precise and composed response from Kaito.
“Explain this particular deduction,” Neo demanded, his finger tapping a line in the ledger.
“The village’s adjusted gross income was below three hundred and fifty-seven gold pieces,” Kaito replied with a steady tone.
“Inaccurate classification here,” Neo pointed out another line.
“Ah, that was rolled over from the previous fiscal year, as per regulation 16-C of the Daiyudura Kingdom Code,” Kaito explained, his face betraying none of the satisfaction he felt at having preempted such queries.
As Neo scrutinized a column of figures, his quill suddenly sputtered, the ink supply unexpectedly running dry.
Kaito calmly reached into his vest pocket and produced a plump blueberry and a glowpear.
“May I?” Kaito said, gesturing to the quill. Neo handed it over wordlessly.
Holding the fruits before him, Kaito commenced vigorously rubbing them together until sparks erupted between them. Then, to the collective astonishment of all present, the blueberry began exuding a vivid, luminous sapphire liquid.
Kaito quickly gathered the ink in a small bottle and refilled Neo's quill to the brim with a swift move.
“I hope you don't mind the switch to glow-ink.” Kaito commented, handing back the quill. “I find it renders one's scribing easier on the eyes.”
A quiet sound of amazement rippled among Kaito's friends. Even the serious Neo briefly showed his surprise.
“Well now, how very... resourceful, Mr. Smith,” Neo muttered. “Please, do carry onward. Let us assess these outstanding merchant permits, shall we?”
Neo held up a receipt, his eyebrow raised. “This Old An Thu pottery shop claimed substantial losses.”
Jogid, who had been watching the exchange with growing admiration, leaned in. “That was from the day we repaired the roof after the megnac beetle attack. A bit of a messy business.”
Kaito offered Jogid a small, reassuring smile, appreciating his apprentice's input but gently motioning for him to step back.
Neo looked up from the receipts, a hint of respect dawning in his eyes. “You appear quite adept in the intricacies of the kingdom’s tax rules, Mr. Smith.”
“Thank you, Mr. Proudmantle,” Kaito replied. “It's crucial for the wellbeing of our village.”
Neo shifted his gaze to Jogid. “You’ve taken several quests from the local guild recently, correct?”
“That is correct,” Jogid said proudly.
“And have you been receiving payment for those endeavors? This is irregular for someone who is not a licensed adventurer.”
This was it. Neo’s final attack. The air crackled with untamed energy, an arcane storm that threatened not just their immediate composure but also the financial independence of Calmo Village.
Kaito glanced at Jogid with an expression that could move mountains. “Mr. Proudmantle, Jogid's involvement in these quests is a part of his training under my guidance. It's educational, not occupational.”
“Educational, you say? And these quests yield no financial reward?”
“Precisely,” Kaito affirmed. “Any ‘rewards’ are reinvested into his training or contributed back to the community. It's a practice of learning and giving, not earning.”
“So to clarify—absolutely no monetary exchange has occurred? This apprenticeship questing is strictly for the boy's edification and growth?”
“Exactly,” Kaito replied without hesitation. “Jogid's questing is part of a holistic approach to his apprenticeship, focusing on practical experience rather than material compensation. We're nurturing skills for the betterment of our village, not personal profit.”
“And do you have proof of his discipleship?”
Without shifting his gaze from the tax collector, Kaito instructed, “Portia, would you please hand Mr. Proudmantle the fifth page from the stack on your right? There, he'll find our discipleship contract, complete with dates, stamps, and signatures from both parties.”
Neo examined the document for a moment with an unreadable expression and tapping one long finger on the table. Then, with a slight nod, he returned his attention to Kaito. “Very well, Mr. Smith. It's an unusual arrangement, but within the bounds of the law. Let's proceed to the next item, shall we?”
For over two grueling hours, the epic battle raged on between the steadfast guardian Kaito and the merciless assailant Neo. They sparred over intricate details, neither warrior yielding any ground. Kaito parried each thrust and query with nimble precision using his immense familiarity with the tax codes as a shield. Neo searched relentlessly for any chink in the fiscal armor to launch a decisive strike. The very future of Calmo Village hung precariously in the balance. In the stuffy confines of the hall, the air grew thick with tension as the combatants refused to flag. Until at long last, drained but unbroken, the valiant Kaito successfully defended his people from financial ruin.
The duel was over. Neo’s assault could not break through Kaito’s defensive wards.
The tax collector studied the hero for a long moment, his sharp features unreadable. But Kaito remained as still as a frozen lake. Then with a curt dip of his chin, he returned his attention to the scattered documents before him. “Very well, it appears your records are in order.”
Kaito exhaled softly, a weight lifting off his shoulders. “I'm pleased we could resolve any concerns.”
“As am I,” Neo admitted, “Your approach to village fiscal management is... unique. I’ve never seen such attention to detail, such perfect balance. You are an artist.” Neo fastened his briefcase with an approving snap.
Kaito's eyes twinkled, but his tone remained calm. “We strive for harmony in Calmo Village, Mr. Proudmantle. A balance in all things, including our taxes.”
When the auditor had departed, Kaito turned to Jogid, pride and affection warming his voice. “Jogid, your insights today were invaluable. Thank you.”
Jogid bowed deeply. “The honor is mine, Master Kaito. I vow to ever strive toward serving our people well.”
“And, Portia, Angelina, Mayor, Thank you for your hard work.”
While no blood was shed, the contest between these two masters would be remembered forever.
The day was here. They all sat, nervous, around a table in the village hall conference room. Even the unshakable Kaito showed a blip of weakness. But now, there was no turning back. Portia’s and Angelina’s hands shook as they sorted the stacks of documents into manageable piles, aiming to make document finding as easy as possible. Edweth, the eighty-year-old secretary, was on her fifth cup of coffee, looking like she was on the brink of a heart attack.
But they were ready. And everything was coming down exactly how Kaito had predicted.
Neo Proudmantle was the name. The tax collector had arrived at the village before first light.
The no-nonsense auditor surveyed the group with a permanent scowl in his face that was already calculating what coins he could extract from the peasants. His leather bag contained scrolls filled with charts and figures to tally every chicken, every sack of grain. Neo had a reputation across the kingdom for being cold, greedy, and unmovable—he would bleed a village dry of every copper piece owed to the crown.
“Good morning, Mr. Proudmantle. I'm Kaito Smith. It's a pleasure to meet you.” Kaito extended a hand, maintaining a courteous demeanor. “I trust your journey to Calmo Village was comfortable? Allow me to introduce, Zenith, our esteemed Mayor, along with Portia, her executive assistant, Angelina, our chief administrative secretary, and Jogid, the operations and logistics coordinator.”
Neo Proudmantle nodded curtly. “And your role, Mr. Smith?” His voice was crisp, business-like.
Kaito smiled slightly, “I oversee the village's fiscal records. Ensuring everything is in order for your visit.” He gestured at the organized stacks of ledgers and receipts occupying nearly half the long table. “I've prepared all the necessary documents for your review. Please, let me know how I can assist you further in your work.”
Neo straightened his spectacles and withdrew a large ledger from his briefcase, along with a ruler, abacus, and one bottle of black ink. This was no warm welcome or casual review—it was a battlefield, and weapons had been drawn.
His beady eyes scanned the nervous village representatives seated across from him. “I trust you have compiled and organized the pertinent records?” he asked in a reedy voice. Not waiting for a response, Neo opened the ledger to a blank page, dipped his quill pen in obsidian ink, and inscribed ‘Calmo Village—Tax Audit’ in bold lettering. He stacked several loose sheets of paper and weighed them down with the abacus and inkwell.
And so, the two warriors engaged in a battle more brutal than any clash of swords or magic.
“Now then,” Neo said, lacing his bony fingers together, “let us review your grain stores inventory from the past five harvests. I do hope for your sake the numbers match up.” His lip curled in a hint of a smile.
The first fireball was cast.
Certainly, Mr. Proudmantle. The documentation is all here.” He gestured to a neatly organized pile of papers. “Highlighted, itemized...and, thanks to a community effort, impeccably maintained.”
For the next several hours, Kaito and Neo engaged in a meticulous review of Calmo Village's fiscal details. Each query from Neo was met with a precise and composed response from Kaito.
“Explain this particular deduction,” Neo demanded, his finger tapping a line in the ledger.
“The village’s adjusted gross income was below three hundred and fifty-seven gold pieces,” Kaito replied with a steady tone.
“Inaccurate classification here,” Neo pointed out another line.
“Ah, that was rolled over from the previous fiscal year, as per regulation 16-C of the Daiyudura Kingdom Code,” Kaito explained, his face betraying none of the satisfaction he felt at having preempted such queries.
As Neo scrutinized a column of figures, his quill suddenly sputtered, the ink supply unexpectedly running dry.
Kaito calmly reached into his vest pocket and produced a plump blueberry and a glowpear.
“May I?” Kaito said, gesturing to the quill. Neo handed it over wordlessly.
Holding the fruits before him, Kaito commenced vigorously rubbing them together until sparks erupted between them. Then, to the collective astonishment of all present, the blueberry began exuding a vivid, luminous sapphire liquid.
Kaito quickly gathered the ink in a small bottle and refilled Neo's quill to the brim with a swift move.
“I hope you don't mind the switch to glow-ink.” Kaito commented, handing back the quill. “I find it renders one's scribing easier on the eyes.”
A quiet sound of amazement rippled among Kaito's friends. Even the serious Neo briefly showed his surprise.
“Well now, how very... resourceful, Mr. Smith,” Neo muttered. “Please, do carry onward. Let us assess these outstanding merchant permits, shall we?”
Neo held up a receipt, his eyebrow raised. “This Old An Thu pottery shop claimed substantial losses.”
Jogid, who had been watching the exchange with growing admiration, leaned in. “That was from the day we repaired the roof after the megnac beetle attack. A bit of a messy business.”
Kaito offered Jogid a small, reassuring smile, appreciating his apprentice's input but gently motioning for him to step back.
Neo looked up from the receipts, a hint of respect dawning in his eyes. “You appear quite adept in the intricacies of the kingdom’s tax rules, Mr. Smith.”
“Thank you, Mr. Proudmantle,” Kaito replied. “It's crucial for the wellbeing of our village.”
Neo shifted his gaze to Jogid. “You’ve taken several quests from the local guild recently, correct?”
“That is correct,” Jogid said proudly.
“And have you been receiving payment for those endeavors? This is irregular for someone who is not a licensed adventurer.”
This was it. Neo’s final attack. The air crackled with untamed energy, an arcane storm that threatened not just their immediate composure but also the financial independence of Calmo Village.
Kaito glanced at Jogid with an expression that could move mountains. “Mr. Proudmantle, Jogid's involvement in these quests is a part of his training under my guidance. It's educational, not occupational.”
“Educational, you say? And these quests yield no financial reward?”
“Precisely,” Kaito affirmed. “Any ‘rewards’ are reinvested into his training or contributed back to the community. It's a practice of learning and giving, not earning.”
“So to clarify—absolutely no monetary exchange has occurred? This apprenticeship questing is strictly for the boy's edification and growth?”
“Exactly,” Kaito replied without hesitation. “Jogid's questing is part of a holistic approach to his apprenticeship, focusing on practical experience rather than material compensation. We're nurturing skills for the betterment of our village, not personal profit.”
“And do you have proof of his discipleship?”
Without shifting his gaze from the tax collector, Kaito instructed, “Portia, would you please hand Mr. Proudmantle the fifth page from the stack on your right? There, he'll find our discipleship contract, complete with dates, stamps, and signatures from both parties.”
Neo examined the document for a moment with an unreadable expression and tapping one long finger on the table. Then, with a slight nod, he returned his attention to Kaito. “Very well, Mr. Smith. It's an unusual arrangement, but within the bounds of the law. Let's proceed to the next item, shall we?”
For over two grueling hours, the epic battle raged on between the steadfast guardian Kaito and the merciless assailant Neo. They sparred over intricate details, neither warrior yielding any ground. Kaito parried each thrust and query with nimble precision using his immense familiarity with the tax codes as a shield. Neo searched relentlessly for any chink in the fiscal armor to launch a decisive strike. The very future of Calmo Village hung precariously in the balance. In the stuffy confines of the hall, the air grew thick with tension as the combatants refused to flag. Until at long last, drained but unbroken, the valiant Kaito successfully defended his people from financial ruin.
The duel was over. Neo’s assault could not break through Kaito’s defensive wards.
The tax collector studied the hero for a long moment, his sharp features unreadable. But Kaito remained as still as a frozen lake. Then with a curt dip of his chin, he returned his attention to the scattered documents before him. “Very well, it appears your records are in order.”
Kaito exhaled softly, a weight lifting off his shoulders. “I'm pleased we could resolve any concerns.”
“As am I,” Neo admitted, “Your approach to village fiscal management is... unique. I’ve never seen such attention to detail, such perfect balance. You are an artist.” Neo fastened his briefcase with an approving snap.
Kaito's eyes twinkled, but his tone remained calm. “We strive for harmony in Calmo Village, Mr. Proudmantle. A balance in all things, including our taxes.”
When the auditor had departed, Kaito turned to Jogid, pride and affection warming his voice. “Jogid, your insights today were invaluable. Thank you.”
Jogid bowed deeply. “The honor is mine, Master Kaito. I vow to ever strive toward serving our people well.”
“And, Portia, Angelina, Mayor, Thank you for your hard work.”
While no blood was shed, the contest between these two masters would be remembered forever.
