Swiss Arms

Chapter 38

Swiss Arms

Chapter 38

-VB-

Life … continued on.

Despite the fact that something historical - something monumental - happened that I knew would change the course of history at the very least for Switzerland and the surrounding nations, life continued on as if the induction of the Prince-Bishopric of Chur into the Compact of the Eight had been nothing but a blip.

Some of it had to do with the fact that news traveled slowly, some of it was because no one really cared about the sparsely populated Swabian Alps, and most of it had to do with the fact that it really wasn't a big deal.

A political association like a legally binding contractual alliance between the Compact of the Seven and the Prince-Bishopric of Chur happened quite frequently across the Holy Roman Empire. It didn't happen every year, of course. It did, however, happen at least a few times in a person's short life. Combined with the remoteness of the region and lack of significance in the eyes of the big players of Europe, Africa, and Middle East, it just wasn't noticed.

Even to the people living in the new Compact of the Eight, the only part of life that had changed was the fact that they could now trade with the people of Chur without worry. However, in a society and economical structure focused on sustenance farming, trade didn't matter too much, even after I had gone and made sure each member village had something to sell to each other or to the outside.

The first thing the bishop did with that alliance was ordering a ton of sugar from me.

Like… seriously? Did he seriously accept a political and military obligation because he wanted sugar?

-VB-

"AND HUT!"

"ONE!"

"AND TWO!"

"TWO!"

"AND THREE!"

"THREE!"

Despite everything that was going on in my life, I never neglected my daily training. Recently though, I had an idea.

Why not turn my personal training session into training session for everyone willing to join? I might even get a skill out of it, too.

This was how I woke up every morning to three dozen people at minimum gathered in my fort's courtyard every morning.

And all of us swung/stabbed with our weapons of choice.

Ping!

[The Way of Warrior] Completed!

-Monthly Quest-

Objective:

Running: 300/300 miles

Vertical Swing: 3000/3000

Horizontal Swing: 3000/3000

Diagonal Down Swing: 3000/3000

Diagonal Up Swing: 3000/3000

Reward (Choose):

*+50 EXP

*+1 LvL to any Arms Skill

*+1 to any Physical Stat]

I continued to swing my sword - "what practice sword?" - while mentally looking over the options and chose another point for physical stats before adding that point to CHA, bringing me up to a nice and even 20.

Ping!

[You have reached CHA 20! Please choose a perk! NEXT>]

I stilled, my eyes reading the screen quickly. Deciding that I needed time to figure this out, I planted the tip of my sword into the ground.

"Alright! That's good enough of a workout for morning!"

All around me, people cheered weakly.

"Alvia should have prepared food for all of you in the mess hall!"

And they were gone, running like the wind.

I huffed before turning my focus back to the screen and unhesitantly pressed the button next to the message.

[Please choose a perk from the following:

Teacher (+10% skill EXP gain for students with less level in skills than you)

SHUT UP! (permanent +5% stun chance boost to Intimidation)

Charm (Magic Skill)]

I stared at the last of the perks and -.

Oh, I chose it.

Ping!

[Charm] LvL 1

Sway someone, either to vote for you or into your bed.

*Increases chance of persuading an individual by [(Your CHA + Your INT - their CHA - their INT)*argument rating]%. Add +0.25% per LvL

*Increases chance of persuading a group by [(Your CHA - their CHA - their Opinion of You)*argument rating-.]

I stopped reading there and frowned. What was "argument rating" supposed to be?

Ping!

[Component: Argument Rating

Argument rating is based on emotional and logical component of the argument in question where the argument fits into their worldview and situation. Using emotional and logical component adverse to or opposite of the targeted audience has negative impact on argument rating.

*Rating Range: Horrible(0), Idiot(0.1), Bad(0.5), Average(1), Good(1.5), Fantastic(2)]

"Wait, so it's harder to convince people even with a Gamer mechanic?" I sighed. "Figures. Not even the Gamer can change that."

I then went on to read the rest of the skill.

[-%. Add +0.1% per LvL.

*Increases chance of seducing your target by [(Your CHA - their INT)*argument rank/10]%. Add 0.5% per LvL-.]

It wasn't a bad skill, but I didn't understand why this was labeled a magic skill and not just a normal skill-.

I squinted as I looked at the bottom of the skill description.

[*Once a day, increase your chance up to 90% for seduction at the cost of 100 MP. Increases number of charges by 1 every 20 LvL to a maximum of 6. Effect of the Charm decays over the next month.]

Okay, understandable now. It was a literal Charm spell.

Jesus.

… Useful but probably not something I want to use willy-nilly.

"Hans?"

I looked up from where I'd sat down on the ground. Alvia was there, standing not too far from me and leaning slightly towards me. My eyes quickly noticed her … I quickly quashed that thought. It wasn't as if she was interested in me.

"Yes, Alvia?" I asked her as I mentally closed all of the screens.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"... I am," I hummed before moving towards the mess hall. "What did you and the girls make today?"

"Goat milk stew," she said as she followed me. "I made white bread for you."

"Thank you," I smiled and she beamed back at me.

I tried not to look but it was kind of hard to not notice her chest swaying slightly as she walked right next to me, and she had the top button opened, showing me just enough cleavage to get my head rolling in the gutter.

Ugh. I needed a dip in the river.

-VB-

"Yes…~!" I hissed like Gollum.

Because what I held in my hands deserved that level of precious.

I looked at the gold ring in my hand.

This ring used to be made completely out of bronze.

"MY PRECIO-!"

Then my throat decided to give away and left me choking, hacking, and coughing.

I had finally gotten gold plating down.

"Milord…?"

I looked over my shoulder and saw Emilia.

She was one of the children that came with her parents who ran away from their lords. A refugees, essentially. Once they learned that I'd secured their freedom, they offered her to me as servant.

I tried to refuse, but the matter of the fact was that as a servant, she would get paid, however meager, and the currently jobless parents needed that income for Emilia's siblings. As of right now, Emilia's mother was now working in my pottery factory and her father was doing all of the manual hauling I had to leave to the people lest everyone became suspicious about how I, a single man, was moving tons upon tons of rocks, clay, and water every day without any help.

"Oh, Emilia. Have you finished cleaning the mess hall?"

She nodded shyly with most of herself behind a door. Did I scare her with my unapologetically unhinged Gollum-mimicry?

God, I pray that this doesn't add to the rumor mill already in circulation.

"Oh good. Do you want to come see what I'm doing?" I asked her friendly with the softest smile I could manage.

Emilia hesitated, looking up at me in my butcher apron and then at the many small vats of water all over the room. She quickly shook her head, bowed, and ran away.

I rolled my eyes.

"I swear, if the people think I'm a witch, I'm gonna be very unhappy," I grumbled to myself before looking back at the gold plated ring and grinned to myself. "Still, this was worth the waste I've made so far. Very worth it."

I looked around the room at the wooden bowls with copper wires, bits of gold nuggets, and a lot of other different metals.

Ping!

[Chemistry LvL.1

You are nature's lawyer.

*Increase chemical reaction output by 0.025% per LvL.

*Limited to chemical reactions personally performed.]

"... Huh."

I looked down at the vat of water right in front of me.

"Let's try that again."

-VB-

Albert I of Tyrol

Count of Gorizia, vassal of Henry II of Bohemia, Governor of Tyrol

"Why is some nobody valley hick getting rich so fast?"

If it wasnt enough that the peasants of this so-called Compact defeated the combined army, then they were starting to make money by having his merchants buy their goods and sell it within his lands.

Admittedly speaking, he managed to get a collection of those artistically decorated dishes. Food tasted better when he ate off of those dishes.

Tyrol wasn't the one that was being heavily impacted by this; it was his lands in and around the Aquileia.

Some of this had to do with the fact that the blasted Bishop of Chur was friend with the Patriachate of Aquileia. Albert's spies within the the patriachate's court reported how the partiarchate had received letters from the bishops as well as … a chinaware.

A bloody china.

A nearly impoverished bishop gifted his richer and more prosperous friend a china.

Of course, Albert's spy wasn't the only spy. People quickly sent men to see what the hell was going on in the Swabian Alps, himself included.

And that's when the trap was sprung. Everyone found out together that these bumfuck peasants who had just barely beaten back the combined army of five counts had gone and started decorating their bowls!

And those bowls were shiny.

If that wasn't all, then those peasants were selling thinner and more flexible parchments they called "paper."

It was wonderful to write on.

That was trap #2.

He had to report this to his lord, and King Henry II ordered that he buy all of the papers and decorated bowls he could get his hands on after receiving a sample of the paper and the decorated bowls.

But no one found a hint of china.

It didn't stop Albert from continuing his investigation.

"Father?"

Albert stopped and turned around inside his solar.

Standing at the doorway of his room was his eldest daughter, his 17 year old Isabella. She was beautiful like her mother with her dark black hair, heart-shaped face, sparkling wide eyes, and a figure he fucking knew dipshit boys were staring at and once he got his hands on them, he was going to -!

He took a deep breath in without breaking his smile to not alarm his daughter.

"Isabella!" he greeted her. "My darling, what are you doing here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Father, you have been stressed out about something for the past month. It's not hard to notice that."

"Oh."

"Is it something I can help?" she asked as she walked over, doing that hip-swinging that her mother was surely teaching her; he'd seen them talk about that and more, even if he did not like what he heard.

"It's just some peasants up in the mountains."

"Really?" she asked as she stood over his shoulders and began massaging him.

As much as he wanted to say she was good at shoulder massages, her hands were too slender and weak for that.

"Oh! That's the man who defeated you and your allies," she remarked while pointing to the name of the man at the center of it all.

Hans von Fluelaberg.

The bastard peasant had gone and received a letter of recognition from the King of the Germans himself that gave him the recognition as the "leader" of the peasants. He didn't know how, but the bastard did.

"Yes. And he's racking money from all of his neighbors and beyond."

"With the paper, right? It is so smooth."

"Yes, it's a good parchment," he grumbled. "And the bowls."

"They are so pretty, too! Thank you for the gifts, father!"

He smiled. "Of course. Anything for my daughter."

"Really?"

"Of course."

"I want to meet this Hans."

His heart froze.

"Isabella, sweetie-."

"You've been sending spies, haven't you?"

"Yes but what doe-"

"Father, you love trustworthy men, your spies included. It doesn't mean that they are the best at their jobs."

It felt like his own daughter just stabbed him in the heart. "Sweetie, I'm-"

"Need I remind you about your attempt to woo Catherine years after mother died? Your spy got discovered on the dot."

Urk.

"Hon-"

"Let me go and see. If I can't find anything, then I will come back home. Maybe with souvenirs? It's been some time since they started making that. Surely, they will have new patterns or dishes?"

He sighed.

"Fine. Fine, just take the House Guard with you."

"Thank you, father!"

If von Fluelaberg did anything to his daughter, then he'll fuck the peace and burn down those valleys with everything he had.

-VB-

[Character Status]

Name: Hans von Fluelaberg

Age: 19

LvL: 33

HP: 680

MP: 350

ST: 340

STR: 50

END: 68

AGI: 60

DEX: 52

INT: 35

CHA: 20