“Let’s begin in three days. We’re already preparing what’s necessary for the guild’s operations, but I’d like you to review everything and report back on any shortages or additional needs.”
“Understood.”
“Starting tomorrow, I’ll gradually explain your responsibilities. Do you have any questions for now?”
“Well, one thing just came to mind…”
“What is it?”
“If Baron Togo demands an explanation for taking in his former subjects—along with their families—as citizens of your territory, how should we respond?”
Poaching another lord’s subjects could easily spark a dispute.
Since subjects were essentially tax-paying assets of their lord, they were often treated as property of the territory.
“That’s mine and my father’s concern. Focus on your duties and repay our trust by excelling in your role—don’t worry about matters we’ll handle.”
“Understood, Young Master.”
“I look forward to your contributions, Guildmaster.”
“Yes! I swear to dedicate my very life to meeting your expectations!”
Beroth gazed at Ian with moved eyes.
For someone he’d just met today to go so far for him and his people—how could he not be touched?
[Beroth’s loyalty has increased by 5.]
‘Since when does loyalty spike like Dwayne’s?’
To find someone whose loyalty rose this quickly besides Dwayne was unexpected.
‘Well, more loyalty never hurts.’
It just meant Beroth would willingly throw himself into his work for Ian’s sake.
Dismissing the message window, Ian asked, “Any other questions?”
“None at the moment.”
“You must be exhausted from the journey. Rest for now. A servant is waiting outside the castle to guide you and your people to your lodgings.”
“Your consideration is deeply appreciated, Young Master.”
With another bow of gratitude, Beroth took his leave.
Once he was gone, Nea—who had been silently observing—spoke up.
“Young Master, are you sure this is alright?”
“About what?”
“Just as the guildmaster said, Baron Togo won’t stay quiet. If he accuses us of ‘stealing’ his subjects, things could get messy.”
Ian chuckled.
He had his reasons for not worrying.
Frankly, this was the first he’d even heard of “Baron Togo’s territory.”
‘The land they’re from isn’t his—it’s clearly part of Viscount Zubern’s domain.’
At first, he wondered if his memory was faulty, but no.
In Ian’s recollection, there was no Baron Togo.
And right where this supposed barony stood, his memory placed Zubern’s lands instead.
He knew this because, during his merchant playthroughs, he’d once used that very region as a base. He still remembered the neighbouring territories.
‘The timeline’s roughly ten years ahead of that, though.’
Back then, the war of succession had ended, and one of the princes had already become emperor.
‘If I have memory of him, it means the Togo family gets absorbed by Zubern.’
Or maybe in just a few months.
‘They’re clearly not a military power either.’
If they even paid their soldiers on time, it’d be a miracle.
‘Just another minor house that collapsed in the chaos, ripe for the taking.’
A lord who squeezed his people dry and bred banditry wouldn’t last long once territory wars began.
A tragedy for his subjects, but a boon for Ian.
‘Never expected to swallow a whole guild like this.’
He allowed himself a small, private smile.
Under normal circumstances, Beroth’s guild would’ve dissolved from debt, scattering its members and leaving Ian to recruit him alone.
But by reaching out years earlier, he’d changed fate.
What incredible luck—gaining an experienced guild overnight, without lifting a finger.
‘Hah! Everything’s falling into place!’
For a moment, he even suspected Lady Luck had taken his side.
Back when this world first became reality, he’d braced for endless hardship.
A 1-in-350 monster outbreak? Check. Den’s bandits arriving six months early? Also check.
‘Though those crises did force Schrantz to develop faster.’
His gaming experience had turned every disaster into an opportunity.
Still, remembering those days made his hair stand on end.
Not an experience he cared to repeat.
He doubted he’d ever laugh about it.
“Young Master?”
Nea’s voice snapped him back to the present.
“Hm? Ah, just lost in thought.”
It happened with Sera too—this damned habit of zoning out.
‘Can’t seem to break it.’
No matter how hard he tried.
“Anyway, don’t worry about what the guildmaster said. That territory won’t exist for long.”
“Won’t exist?”
“Mark my words.”
He offered no further explanation.
‘We did have intel about Zubern increasing weapons purchases… Did he already deduce their plans?’
Nea had noticed signs of Zubern preparing for war but hadn’t reported it, assuming Ian wouldn’t care about a territory three domains away.
‘They’re mustering forces, but even I couldn’t guess their target.’
Zubern had two enemy houses—but which would they strike?
Baron Togo wasn’t even on that list.
‘Yet that land’s been a strategic stronghold since the foreign invasions.’
From that angle, Zubern had every reason to seize it first—securing an advantage before clashing with rivals.
‘To piece all that together… The Young Master exceeds my expectations at every turn.’
Her estimation of Ian rose another notch.
‘What, now she’s the one spacing out?’
Her unblinking stare was unnerving. Now he understood how others felt when he zoned out.
Ahem.
At his cough, she snapped back to attention.
“And what were you pondering so deeply?”
“My apologies.”
Nea bowed.
‘Pot calling the kettle black.’
He could hardly scold her for a habit he couldn’t shake himself.
“Is that all for today?”
“Not quite. We still need to visit the smithy to check progress on the weapons for the elves.”
“Wasn’t that scheduled for tomorrow?”
“Today.”
Ian scratched his head.
With no major crises lately, his tension had eased—and so had his memory.
“Also, we’re slightly behind schedule.”
“Damn. They’re probably cursing me while they wait.”
He hurried out.
For the past few months, Ian’s daily life hadn’t changed much.
He frequently visited Dariel Village, primarily focusing on mastering magic. Being neither the heir nor the lord meant he had few responsibilities, giving him plenty of free time—a perk he quite enjoyed.
And truthfully, Ian was content with this routine.
Even though his days were repetitive and relaxed, the territory continued to grow steadily on its own. What wasn’t to like about a peaceful, stable expansion that required little direct effort from him?
Occasionally, reports of bandit groups spilling over from neighbouring territories reached his ears, but they were no cause for concern.
Hugo, aware of the kingdom’s instability and the likelihood of frequent bandit activity, had stationed defensive forces in every village. As a result, most bandits didn’t dare trespass into Schrantz.
Still, there were always reckless fools who ignored warnings.
Bandits looking for a big score occasionally slipped in, only to be promptly captured.
The only minor issue was the growing number of prisoners, straining available holding space—but that could easily be resolved by expanding facilities.
‘My rosy future is getting closer!’
Ian’s dream was simple: to live peacefully in Schrantz, free from major turmoil, until the day he could retire in comfort.
Moreover, with the recent hiring of a guildmaster and the establishment of a merchant guild, trade with the elves had officially begun.
Now, even as he went about his daily routine, the territory would prosper on its own, filling his pockets effortlessly.
‘Money flows in just by breathing! All that’s left is to find a suitable bride, have adorable children, and live happily ever after.’
The only problem was where to find said bride.
While arranged marriages were common among noble families, Schrantz was an exception.
Surrounded by hostile territories and barely able to sustain itself, the family had no time for social engagements.
In fact, four different lords had once eyed Schrantz as easy prey.
No noble family would willingly marry their daughter into a house that could vanish from the map at any moment.
‘Well, things are different now.’
Recently, invitations from noble families had started pouring in.
The same houses that had once ignored Schrantz when it was small and vulnerable were now eagerly seeking connections.
Invitations were extended to both Hubert and Ian indiscriminately—clearly attempts to forge ties.
Even wealthy merchant families had begun making advances.
Most of these invitations were politely declined by Hugo.
Not out of petty revenge for their past neglect, but for a different reason entirely.
‘I won’t marry my precious sons to daughters from such families!’
……was his justification.
‘Am I a daughter or a son?’
Though Ian felt some confusion regarding his gender identity, that was beside the point.
The point was, his peaceful, uneventful days continued—until today.
A new task had finally disrupted his freedom: the periodic monster subjugation mission was approaching.
Bored out of his mind, Ian wanted to participate, but Hubert had already been assigned the task.
Ian had already earned more than enough merit, so this was Hugo’s way of giving Hubert a chance to prove himself as a future heir.
Thus, Ian was prevented from joining directly.
Instead, he was put in charge of organizing the subjugation force, which led him to the knights’ barracks.
“Let’s deploy the soldiers from Nase. Preferably veterans only.”
“Young Master, I must advise against that.”
Colin, who had become Schrantz’s vice-commander months ago, immediately objected.
‘Nase’ was formerly part of the Duser barony.
Its soldiers were currently regarded as the worst rabble in Schrantz.
Having once led Nase’s troops himself as the former knight commander of Duser, Colin knew their capabilities better than anyone—hence his warning.
‘The Young Master must think veterans would at least be somewhat competent.’
But the reality was that even their so-called veterans were barely better than raw recruits.
“Their actual performance is even worse than their evaluations suggest.”
“That bad?”
“If any of them have even a single ‘E’ rating, it’d be a miracle. If there were a grade lower than ‘F,’ they’d deserve it.”
Evaluations ranged from F (worst) to S (best), based on individual soldiers’ skill and physical fitness.
While Rosen’s soldiers averaged A+ to S, other regions hovered around C—mediocre but passable.
Nase, however, was the only place where the average rating was F.
“Sending them to subjugate monsters would be like offering them up as bait.”
Colin, who knew better than anyone just how poor their quality was, couldn’t hide his concern.
Ian pulled up the territory’s status window to check.
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