The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 87

Chapter 87: The First Half (2)

“Land, you say?”

Zwalter asked in surprise.

It wasn’t that giving land was impossible.

After all, it wasn’t uncommon for a lord to reward their vassals with money or land.

Since Ferdium lacked money, it seemed natural to ask for land instead.

Still, asking for half of the entire county was absurd!

No matter how small Digald might be, that was only relative to other counties.

Even half of the county was no trivial amount of land.

The other vassals were equally taken aback by the outrageous request, blinking in confusion.

“Come in.”

Upon Ghislain’s signal, two mercenaries suddenly flung open the doors to the hall and entered.

Homerne’s face twisted in displeasure. These men acted as if the hall were some kind of common inn, walking in and out at will.

‘If it weren’t for the Young Lord…’

While he grumbled inwardly, the mercenaries wasted no time and unrolled a map.

It was clear that they had prepared everything beforehand.

“Ahem, I’ll begin the explanation.”

Ghislain pulled out a thin pointer from somewhere and started indicating various places on the map.

“The County of Digald, excluding its direct domain, consists of five baronies in total. I will take three of those, starting with Baron Fenris’ territory and including the baronies to the north and south of it.”

Despite calling it an explanation, he was blatantly declaring which lands he would take.

Zwalter, stunned, let out a faint laugh but fixed a sharp gaze on the map.

The three territories Ghislain had claimed were located in the south and east of the County of Digald, bordering other lands.

In other words, he was asking for the front-line regions.

“Do you have a particular reason for wanting those areas?”

When Zwalter asked, Ghislain nodded vigorously in response.

“These are border regions that adjoin other lands. I will defend them. If Raypold attacks Ferdium, I’ll be able to strike their flank.”

Ghislain tapped the southern region of Ferdium marked on the map with his pointer.

On the map, next to Ferdium’s southern territory and Digald’s eastern border, was written the name Raypold.

“Raypold? What does that place have to do with anything?”

“They’re no different from Desmond. If word about the Runestone spreads, they’re bound to covet it.”

Ghislain had already considered Raypold an enemy.

It was obvious that Amelia would eventually take control of Raypold.

Honestly, he wanted to intervene there too, but there were too many urgent matters at hand, leaving him with little time.

Still, he had to prepare for the possibility that Raypold could become an enemy at any moment.

While the others were unaware of these specific circumstances, they didn’t think Ghislain’s words were unfounded.

After all, Ghislain had previously managed to extort money from Amelia.

“Of course, I won’t be able to hold Raypold in check immediately since Zimbar lies between us. But if they invade, I’ll be able to provide reinforcements to Ferdium from this position swiftly.”

“Are you saying you plan to raise a formal army?”

“Yes, relying solely on mercenaries has its limits.”

Zwalter’s expression turned concerned.

“You are, after all, the heir to this land. If you also annex Digald, Ferdium will no longer be considered a small territory. Don’t you think it’s time to gain experience managing a larger domain?”

“The atmosphere in the north isn’t good right now. Something could happen at any moment, so I think it’s better for me to move freely.”

If Ghislain received the territory, he would not only become the Young Lord of Ferdium but also the lord of Baron Fenris’ territory.

No matter how influential a Young Lord may be, it couldn’t compare to being a lord.

“Ruling over a territory is no easy task. That place has been hit harder by the aftermath of war than Ferdium. Plus, you don’t even have any knights who swear loyalty to you. While some bureaucrats may remain, you can’t easily hire knights with money.”

“It’s fine. I’ve already thought about that.”

“Hmph, well, you’ve never been one to listen to me anyway.”

Zwalter shook his head with a self-deprecating smile.

Ruling a territory was indeed difficult.

It wasn’t something you could handle just by being good at fighting, nor was it easy even if you had money.

To maintain the position of lord, one needed responsibility, conviction, and ability.

An evil lord who exploited his subjects would have no trouble managing, but Ghislain didn’t seem to have that in mind.

And if he ever showed even the slightest hint of such tendencies, Zwalter wouldn’t tolerate it.

The only relief was that Digald, unlike Ferdium, wasn’t a bottomless pit of a place that had to defend against barbarians and the Forest of Beasts.

“So, will that be enough for you?”

“Yes, for now, it’s a reasonable amount, given the lack of administrative personnel. I plan to consolidate the three baronies under Fenris’ territory.”

“Haha, ‘for now,’ you say… How ambitious you are.”

At such a young age, he had made significant contributions in battle, claiming three baronies, yet he spoke as if it were no big deal.

Zwalter could hardly keep up with Ghislain’s boundless ambition.

‘It’s admirable that he’s willing to stand at the forefront himself, though.’

The three baronies were not insignificant in size, but they were lands he wouldn’t have obtained had they not won the war.

Since Ghislain was to inherit all of Ferdium eventually, gaining experience in ruling a territory beforehand wasn’t a bad idea.

Zwalter couldn’t help but worry about the people who lived in those lands, but he trusted his son.

Surely, Ghislain wouldn’t act recklessly now.

If the territory’s condition turned out to be unsatisfactory, Zwalter could always intervene later.

“What do you all think?”

“…”

The vassals let out weary sighs, but couldn’t bring themselves to answer.

This was how it had been lately. At some point, it had become difficult to understand and follow the Young Lord’s actions.

‘He never consults us and always just informs us of his decisions, leaving no room for discussion!’

‘With the Runestone in his hands, we can’t even oppose him if we wanted to, and convincing him is out of the question.’

‘The Lord must feel the same way, though…’

The vassals glanced at Zwalter.

He had a faint smile on his face, as if he had accepted his son’s ways and was simply seeking some peace of mind by gaining their approval.

Homerne, who had been deep in thought, wiped the sweat from his forehead and stepped forward.

“Just let the Young Lord do as he wishes.”

Whether he had the talent to be a lord was uncertain, but he had certainly demonstrated his abilities in war.

Even if someone were to object here, it would only make the dissenters look foolish.

In truth, Homerne was only surprised and had no real intention of opposing the decision.

This was evidence that his perception of Ghislain was gradually changing.

While his concerns hadn’t completely disappeared, it was becoming harder to regard Ghislain as the reckless troublemaker he used to be.

Much of the resentment toward Ghislain had dissipated after this war.

The other vassals felt similarly.

“If he’s achieved such merit, it’s only right that he receives a reward. I think granting him land is appropriate.”

“It’s a territory that someone has to take over eventually.”

“All we need to focus on now is the distribution of the remaining estates.”

“Given that he saved the territory from the crisis, such a reward isn’t excessive.”

“The Young Lord isn’t the same troublemaker he used to be. I think it’s worth trusting him this time.”

While his tendency to act first and inform later hadn’t changed, the vassals couldn’t deny that they had begun to trust Ghislain’s development.

Albert also expressed his agreement, offering his reasoning.

“If it weren’t for the Young Lord, we wouldn’t have gained this land in the first place. And with our current resources, we can’t possibly manage the entire County of Digald.”

Ferdium lacked the administrative capacity to oversee the newly acquired lands efficiently.

Rather than leaving the territory unattended, it was better to entrust half of it to the wealthy Young Lord, who could manage it himself.

Randolph, who had been observing Ghislain silently, cast the final vote of support.

“The Young Lord’s abilities have been somewhat proven. Although his actions are often dangerously bold… with his skill, leaving the southern territories to him should be fine. Even though Desmond is targeting us, we can’t afford to neglect the north either.”

The vassals felt that voicing their opinions now was somewhat pointless, as the decision had essentially already been made. But proper formality was still needed.

It was a way for Zwalter, as lord, and the vassals to maintain some dignity.

Ghislain’s way of notifying them like this was, in a way, his form of showing respect to Zwalter and the vassals.

Feeling that this was better than nothing, the vassals silently accepted Ghislain’s consideration.

Zwalter, feeling a bit awkward, cleared his throat repeatedly.

“Ahem, ahem, very well. Since you are qualified and all the vassals are in agreement, I shall grant Ghislain the title of Baron of Fenris.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll set a date soon for the formal oath of fealty—”

“Let’s just do it now, informally. We’re not at the royal palace, and there’s no need to be so formal among ourselves. No point wasting time.”

“Ahem, that’s a good idea.”

Although they were father and son in private, their relationship was now officially that of lord and vassal, so some form of ceremony was required.

However, Ghislain didn’t care much for the ceremony, and since Zwalter, who valued honor, saw that Ghislain wasn’t bothered by it, he decided to let it slide.

With a few vassals, knights, and mercenaries present, a hastily arranged ceremony was held.

Zwalter held a ceremonial sword and, in a solemn voice, declared:

“…In recognition of your great deeds and by the authority vested in me by His Majesty the King, I, Zwalter Ferdium, hereby grant you the land of Fenris and the title of Baron. You shall pledge undying loyalty, protect the people and the weak, and uphold the law and justice with all your strength for the rest of your days…”

The tedious declaration continued on, and when asked if he would give his all, Ghislain gave a half-hearted response, thus bringing the rushed title-bestowal ceremony to an awkward close.

The vassals offered their hollow congratulations in the uneasy and somewhat uncomfortable atmosphere.

Beyond the hall’s open doors, mercenaries, soldiers, and even the servants had gathered, all watching with curious expressions.

It seemed word had quickly spread throughout the castle that Ghislain was being granted a title.

Having gotten what he wanted, Ghislain rose from his seat, bowed once to Zwalter, and immediately turned on his heels.

There was no reason to linger in a place where his business was done.

‘Even so, for someone who just received a title…’

Zwalter gave a faint chuckle while the vassals smirked as if they had expected nothing less.

Meanwhile, the mercenaries cheered and swarmed around Ghislain.

Belinda, in particular, was ecstatic, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Young Master! Oh my goodness! Our Young Master has become a lord! Could it be thanks to my early education?”

“Early education…? So, that’s why the captain turned out to be such a troublemaker?” Kaor said, grinning.

Belinda shot a glare at Kaor and jabbed him sharply in the side with her elbow.

Kaor clutched his side in irritation.

“What the hell! Why’d you jab me? Now I see where the captain’s attitude comes from!”

“Don’t make me spill blood on such a good day… got it?”

Sensing the genuine malice in Belinda’s glare, Kaor sneered and let out his own menacing aura.

“Let’s see who ends up bleeding.”

Ghislain clicked his tongue inwardly as he watched the two bicker. Fortunately, Gillian stepped in to stop the situation from escalating further.

‘I’ll have to scold them later.’

Meanwhile, the area in front of the hall had turned into a bustling scene, like a marketplace, as more people arrived after hearing about the title ceremony.

The knights and soldiers who had fought alongside Ghislain in the war came to offer their congratulations.

Even the maids looked at him with admiration as if wondering whether he had finally matured.

Simply by not causing unnecessary trouble and doing his part, people’s opinions of him had improved.

As Ghislain glanced around at the people praising him, a bitter smile tinged with regret crept onto his face.

‘It was this easy…’

Why hadn’t he realized it sooner?

“Young Master?”

Gillian called out, puzzled when Ghislain stood silently for a moment.

Quickly adjusting his expression, Ghislain plastered a smug smile on his face.

“In honor of receiving my title, I’m treating everyone today! Our victory feast starts now! Prepare the drinks and meat, and make sure everyone comes!”

With exaggerated gestures, he spread his arms wide, encouraging the crowd to join in, and they responded with cheers.

“Oooh! The Young Lord is treating us!”

“Exactly! After all the hard work, it’s time to party! He knows what’s up!”

“Our Baron Captain is the best!”

“Waaah! It’s a festival! The Baron is treating us!”

The people were so excited that their shouts echoed around the castle.

The vassals clicked their tongues and furrowed their brows inside the hall, but they soon shook their heads and let it go.

Leading the crowd, Ghislain shouted loudly.

“Let’s go!”

The crowd followed, chanting his name in excitement, not out of fear, but filled with joy and camaraderie.

“Long live Baron Fenris!”

Ghislain, now Baron Fenris. Soon to be a name that would be renowned throughout the kingdom.