826Jaune Arc stood outside the Mistral Agricultural Authority office, in a suit and tie, clutching the deed to his newly acquired farmland. After all the trouble he had gone through to getting the deed, a quiet life in the Mistrali countryside felt like a dream come true. Of course, nothing was ever that simple.
Stepping inside, he was met with the tired gaze of a clerk who barely looked up from his screen.
"Can I help you?"
"Uh, yeah." Jaune placed the deed on the counter. "This farmland was transferred to me, and I need to make it official."
The clerk adjusted his glasses and took the document. "Alright, let's see... Hm. You've got the seller's signature, notarization from a village... good. You'll need to register the deed with the Provincial Land Office so it's recognized under Mistral's agricultural laws."
Jaune nodded, already feeling overwhelmed. "Okay. Where do I go for that?"
"Down the hall, second door on the left. After that, head to the Mistral Revenue Bureau to sort out property taxes. If you plan on farming, you should also check in with the Mistral Farmers' Guild — they handle zoning, Grimm protection policies, and agricultural grants."
"Grimm protection policies?" Jaune frowned. "That's a thing?"
The clerk gave him a look. "You're farming in Mistral, not Vale. Out here, if you don't have proper defenses, you won't have crops for long. The Guild can help set up defensive structures."
Jaune sighed. "Great. And here I thought farming would be simple."
The clerk chuckled. "Welcome to landownership in a world full of Grimm, kid."
Jaune gathered his papers, took a deep breath, and followed the directions to the Provincial Land Office.
The scent of old paper and ink filled the air inside the Land Office, where towering shelves held centuries' worth of land records. At the counter, an elderly woman with silver hair tied in a neat bun glanced up.
"Next."
Jaune stepped forward, placing the deed on the counter. "Hi, I need to register this farmland transfer."
The woman scanned the document with a practiced eye. "Mistrali farmlands, outer region… Ah, this used to belong to the Renkin family."
Jaune blinked. "You know the previous owners?"
She smiled faintly. "I've worked here long enough to know most of the old landowning families. The Renkins left Mistral some time ago and went to Atlas. You're taking over their farm, then? Good place."
"Yeah," Jaune said. "I figured farming would be… I dunno, peaceful."
She chuckled softly. "You'll find out soon enough." Stamping the parchment with Mistral's Official Seal of Land Ownership, she handed it back. "It's recorded. Legally, the land is yours."
Jaune let out a breath. One step down.
"Next, take this to the Mistral Revenue Bureau," she continued. "They'll assess your land for taxes and determine if you qualify for any exemptions. I'd do that today—Mistral's tax collectors don't like being kept waiting."
Jaune gave a sheepish nod. "Right. Got it. Thanks."
The Revenue Bureau was a massive wooden building, its banners displaying Mistral's emblem. Inside, rows of desks were filled with clerks and tax assessors, all locked in the most feared battle of all... bureaucracy.
A bored-looking man at the counter barely glanced up. "Name?"
"Uh, Jaune Arc. I just had farmland transferred to me, and I need to sort out the taxes."
The clerk scrolled through a ledger and raised an eyebrow. "Mistrali farmland, outer region… Hm. The previous owners were part of the Agricultural Relief Program, meaning you might be eligible for reduced taxation if you continue farming."
Jaune perked up. "That sounds good! So… I just farm?"
The man sighed, clearly used to dealing with clueless newcomers. "You'll need to register with the Mistral Farmers' Guild to confirm you're actively working the land. If you leave it untended for too long, you lose the exemption, and Mistral's tax collectors will come knocking."
Jaune gulped. He'd heard stories about Mistral's tax enforcers. Some said they were almost as bad as Grimm.
"Alright," he said. "Farmers' Guild. Got it. Anything else?"
The clerk lazily handed him a Taxpayer Registration Form. "Fill this out and return it within a week, or you'll face late fees. Also, if you plan to sell crops, you'll need a Merchant Permit from the Mistral Trade Commission."
Jaune groaned. "This is getting complicated."
The clerk smirked. "Welcome to this side of the world, Mr. Arc."
By the time Jaune reached the Mistral Farmers' Guild, his head was already spinning. The Guild Hall was a sturdy wooden structure, its banners displaying Mistral's emblem alongside symbols of wheat, livestock, and plows. Farmers, merchants, and laborers bustled about, discussing crop yields, Grimm threats, and market prices.
At the front desk, a stern-looking woman with calloused hands barely glanced at him before speaking.
"New farmer?"
Jaune nodded, placing his deed on the counter. "Yeah, I'm taking over the Renkin farm. I was told I need to register?"
She gave the deed a quick scan, then grunted. "Alright. Here's what you need to know." She slid a thick Farm Registration Form toward him. "Sign this to declare you're actively working the land. This makes you eligible for tax breaks and subsidies."
Jaune grabbed a quill and hesitated. "So… I just sign this, and everything's good?"
She snorted. "Kid, you're in Mistral. Nothing is ever that easy." Reaching under the desk, she slammed down another stack of paperwork.
Jaune's stomach dropped. "Oh no."
"Oh yes." She pointed at the forms. "You need to register for Crop Allocation, sign up for the Rural Defense Initiative, since you're outside the city, you'll need Grimm protections and maybe even hire Huntsmen if things get bad."
Jaune gulped. "What's the cheapest option?"
She sighed, flipping through a booklet. "Basic security bots: 100 lien. Defensive fencing: 300 lien. Monthly patrol team? Separate contract. Course... it's a loan..."
Jaune winced. "Yeesh. I thought farming was supposed to be peaceful, not expensive."
The woman smirked. "Then you should've stayed in Vale or bought land in Atlas."
By the time he finished, Jaune felt like he'd fought a Nevermore with a butter knife. Handing the final document back, he exhaled.
"You're officially a registered farmer in Mistral." The woman stamped the papers. "Try not to get eaten by Grimm."
Jaune forced a weak smile. "Thanks… I think."
After what felt like an eternity of paperwork, Jaune finally arrived at his new farm. Rolling green hills stretched toward distant mountains. The farmhouse was old but sturdy, and the overgrown fields had potential.
Jaune exhaled. "Alright. I survived the paperwork. Now I just have to survive… actually farming."
As if on cue, a rustling sound came from the tree line. Jaune's hand went to Crocea Mors, instincts kicking in.
"Great. Not even one day in, and something's already lurking."
He stepped forward, gripping his sword only for a tiny rabbit-like creature to hop out from the brush. A Jackalope?
Jaune blinked. It had been a while since he had seen one. The old knight, who used to teach him how to fight, had one bigger than a warhorse, not tiny like this one. The fluffy gray thing twitched its nose, let out a soft squeak, and disappeared into the grass.
He sighed, lowering his sword. "Right. A deadly, terrifying farm life."
Shaking his head, he made his way inside the old farmhouse. Dust clung to the air, the wooden floors creaking beneath his boots. The place was empty but sturdy… still home.
He ran a hand over the fireplace mantel, fingers lingering on Crocea Mors.
The sword had been his family's identity and legacy.
Taking a deep breath, he hung it above the fireplace.
He wanted to have it primarily for luck.
Fighting? He'd leave it huntsmen.
"Alright," he muttered, rolling up his sleeves. "Time to do this!"
Tomorrow, he'd check the fields, fix the fence, and figure out what the hell he was actually doing.
He was a farmer now.
Let's see how this one works out...