How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending

Recalling the greatest side effects that had occurred in the actual history of my past life, a wave of worry rushed over me once again.

Because of that, I originally intended to introduce the recipes and cultivation methods slowly, distributing them only after crafting a careful plan. I also planned to promote them moderately through various methods. If only such a sudden and terrible disaster had not occurred, it would have been much easier to establish the potato, meaning the batatas.

Of course, in order to buy time for the estate residents to grow accustomed to the batatas, it was not as if we had not discussed various alternatives during the council meeting of the vassals.

“Since we have sufficient financial leeway, how about purchasing wheat from the southern territories?”

When I asked, Lord Mildred replied with a stiffened face.

“The territory bordering Hezekia to the south is the Aluar Earldom, which is ruled by a close confidant of Prince Everett.”

“…They certainly will not give us food then.”

Since the situation was one where the culprit behind this mess was presumed to be Everett, there was no way Count Aluar would help. Even so, unable to abandon my lingering attachment, I asked again.

“What about the Earldom of Van Chekhov further below?”

Count Van Chekhov was the very person whose entire territory was attacked by a swarm of locusts after supporting the Imperial Grandson, Constantine, until the end in the original story. When I pointed out his territory, this time Wilhelm shook his head.

“The Earldom of Van Chekhov is located at the southern tip of the Rubyere Empire, past Port Belforte. It is too far, so just traveling back and forth will take at least three months. It is impossible to hold out for three months when there is no food to eat right now.”

In the end, we decided to distribute the batatas while taking care to minimize the side effects. It was not something that should be done in such a rush, but it was a situation where we had no other choice.

‘System, you swindling bastard…’

As I indulged in various thoughts, resentment naturally poured out. What did that system bastard say when I succeeded in the Taurraka Continent event? That ‘resolving Hezekia’s food shortage’ would be granted as a reward? That we could say goodbye to starvation from now on?

But what on earth is this? Far from resolving the food shortage, an even greater food crisis had struck.

The fact that Prince Everett’s conspiracy event was pulled forward compared to the original is not the fault of the system.
We inform you that the original plot has changed due to the user’s active performance! ♡

So that means it is my fault?

Clicking my tongue, I waved my hand to erase the characters displayed by the system. Arguing with it would only be exhausting.

Below, despite the reactions mixed with suspicion and fear, the distribution was continuing. The people with worried faces eventually accepted the sacks of crops. Whatever it was, it would be better than starving to death.

Fortunately, the amount of stored batatas was plentiful, so I had already instructed them to plant the remaining ones in the devastated fields. Potatoes grow quickly and can be harvested in just two to three months. If we could just hold out until then with the famine relief crops being distributed right now, we would be able to pass this crisis without major problems. I wanted to believe that.

However, for some reason, a corner of my heart was uneasy. An unidentifiable sense of anxiety kept circling inside my head.

‘I hope nothing goes wrong…’

I unconsciously put strength into my hand gripping the railing. The peace that I had barely managed to grasp appeared strangely precarious.

❖ ❖ ❖

The rumor spread slowly and quietly, yet it built up bit by bit like a rolling snowball, expanding steadily. Ominous words whispered to one another in low voices traveled back and forth endlessly, spreading gradually. A story that was initially dismissed as absurd nonsense, and later as a minor suspicion, took shape at some point. It did not take long before the preposterous words began to grow uncontrollably like a wildfire.

“Did you hear that the Grand Consort is trying to make us eat the devil’s fruit?”

“The devil’s fruit?”

“They say if you eat that, your soul will rot and fall into the hands of Walpurgis’s demon. They say the entire estate will be enveloped in a curse before long…”

“I would rather starve. If it means escaping the demon’s grasp…”

Anxiety and suspicion flashed through the eyes of the estate residents as terror spread. The line that had stretched long in front of the relief center dwindled until, at some point, it snapped entirely. As the nights grew deeper, the sound of heavy sacks being thrown away echoed along every village street. Every time dawn broke, batatas rolling on the ground were discovered in every corner of the back alleys, paddy dikes, and fields.