<County of Schrantz>
Lord: Hugo von Schrantz
Loyalty: 91
Population: 14,243
- Public Order: 49/100 (Average)
- Living Standards: 7/10 (Prosperous)
- Cultural Level: 3/10 (Underdeveloped)
- Military Strength: 4/10 (Average)
Citizen Satisfaction: 73 (Very Satisfied)
Ian sighed deeply after checking the territory’s status.
The military strength, once formidable before the expansion, had dropped significantly. The current rating of 4 was only achieved after months of effort—previously, it had fallen to 3.
This decline was the result of integrating soldiers from all reclaimed lands into Schrantz’s forces.
‘The Nase troops are dragging down our entire military rating.’
While other metrics had improved slightly, military strength had taken a sharp dive.
This wasn’t just about numbers. If Ian merely wanted to fill ranks or use them as cannon fodder, he wouldn’t have cared.
‘But they are now Schrantz’s soldiers.’
A weak link was inevitable, but this was beyond acceptable.
It wasn’t just a fractured finger—it was one on the verge of falling off.
‘If bandits raid Nase, they’ll be slaughtered without resistance.’
Fortunately, bandits hadn’t targeted Nase yet, but if word spread about the soldiers’ incompetence, it would become a prime target.
‘The moment that happens, we’ll have endless headaches.’
They’d be forced to divert resources to Nase, leaving gaps elsewhere. The territory’s progress would suffer.
‘And if villages are pillaged, the family’s prestige will crumble.’
Schrantz could no longer afford to neglect its reputation.
Protecting the lives and property of its people was the bare minimum duty of a ruling house. Fail at that, and the citizens would lose faith in Schrantz entirely.
—
“Then, Sir Colin, you will personally train them.”
Ian had appointed Colin as vice-commander and entrusted him with knight training—partly to make him realize his own talent for military instruction.
And it worked. Within months, the knights showed marked improvement. Already skilled, they became even more formidable.
Colin, in turn, recognized his own aptitude for training.
“Frankly, even if we start now, I can’t guarantee they’ll be battle-ready in time.”
‘Well, I think they’ll manage.’
Ian, fully aware of Colin’s talent, had no doubts. But Colin, still new to this realization, lacked confidence.
“If anyone can do it, it’s you. Besides, we can’t leave them as they are forever. Even Father has considered dismissing and replacing them.”
Hugo, a staunch meritocrat, had been furious after reviewing Nase’s evaluations.
The only reason they hadn’t been purged yet was the lack of replacements. But that reprieve wouldn’t last. Once the territory stabilized and more troops were recruited, they’d be gradually phased out.
“Even if they were crushed in the last battle, they’ve still seen combat. They know what happens when they break—they won’t run like before.”
War taught lessons, win or lose. That was why experience mattered.
“I’m not asking you to turn them into elites like Rosen’s troops. Just make them competent. That’s enough.”
“…As you command.”
Colin could see Ian wouldn’t budge.
‘At least we have some time before the subjugation.’
Unlike Duke Duser, Hugo and Ian didn’t skimp on training. They willingly invested extra funds if needed.
Given the frequent monster incursions from the untamed lands, Schrantz valued soldier quality more than most.
This was something that had surprised Colin repeatedly since joining.
Schrantz treated its soldiers with a sincerity rare among noble houses.
It was a far cry from Duke Duser’s lax standards, where training and evaluations were mere formalities.
‘If they can just pull their weight, Rosen’s troops will cover the rest. It’ll work out.’
Ian smiled, crossing his arms.
The Nase soldiers would learn from fighting alongside their betters.
By the time the subjugation ended, he had no doubt they’d reach at least a seasoned level—if not elite.
‘And when they return, they’ll drill those lessons into the new recruits.’
That was why Ian insisted on taking only veterans.
Greenhorns would only drag them down, and the veterans might resent them.
‘The rookies won’t have a choice but to follow.’
Ian smirked, imagining the chaos in Nase’s barracks afterward.
The veterans would whip the newbies into shape—one way or another.
He looked forward to the change, for better or worse.
‘And if Hubert leads them well, earning praise for molding them into real soldiers? Even better.’
Achievements, big or small, were always welcome.
With that grand vision in mind, Ian grinned.
Clap! Clap!
“This concludes the meeting. Good work, everyone.”
“Good work, Young Master.”
Escorted by Oswell and Colin, Ian left the barracks.
As he considered celebrating the productive day with a drink—
“Young Master.”
Nea called out.
“What is it?”
“An invitation arrived for you during the meeting.”
Ian assumed it was another noble house’s proposal.
Just days ago, one had sent a banquet invite and a portrait of their daughter, making their intentions blatant.
‘They’re getting desperate to get close to me.’
Though he pretended he didn’t care, the initial flattery had pleased him.
‘But after the tenth invitation this week, it’s just annoying.’
“Ask Sir Jurdan to politely decline.”
Jurdan’s refined rejections were far more diplomatic than anything Ian could muster.
He felt slightly guilty burdening Jurdan with this, but what choice did he have?
His own writing and eloquence couldn’t compare.
“No, we can’t refuse this one.”
“What do you mean?”
Nea silently held out the invitation for Ian to see.
“……”
The neatly folded letter bore a seal—one Ian recognized immediately. His lips pressed into a tight line.
It was from a house he knew all too well.
None other than the Endran Duchy!
“Give it here.”
Ian snatched the letter from Nea’s hands, tearing open the seal to read its contents.
[You are politely invited to the birthday celebration of Viola Endran, the sole daughter of the Endran Duchy—the leading house of the northern nobility—as its guest of honor.]
Not just any invitation.
This was a personal summons from Viola herself.
A single sheet of paper, bearing just a few lines, instantly shattered the peaceful freedom of his days.
Meanwhile, in the Endran Duchy…
Around the time Ian had returned to his territory after finalizing trade with the elves—
“Oh? So there are elves in the untamed lands, and it seems young Schrantz has struck a deal with them.”
Duke Endran had swiftly learned of Ian’s contact with the elves and their subsequent arms agreement.
The information came from Adoran Merchant Group, a high-end establishment under the Endran Duchy’s control.
Not long after, Schrantz formally notified the duke of their intent to trade elven weapons.
His initial concern had been whether these arms might flow into the hands of the Eaton Duchy—his rivals.
But if that risk was mitigated, he had no objections.
“I’ve been keeping watch in case they tried to offload defective stock through backdoor deals, but it seems unnecessary now.”
Hugo’s proactive report was, in itself, proof that Schrantz had no intention of betraying the Endrans.
Watching the duke’s relieved expression was another man—
Valentino Endran, the heir to the duchy.
“Father, as I mentioned before, Schrantz shows no signs of hostility toward our house.”
“My son, especially in these turbulent times, no one can predict when and where betrayal may come. Who’s to say Eaton won’t tempt them with land or power?”
This was an era where hidden ambitions could surface at any moment.
In the southern and eastern regions, exactly such betrayals had already occurred. Vassal houses, swayed by promises of greater rewards, had turned on their lords—crushing once-powerful families overnight.
The absence of the imperial family’s influence had shaken the very foundations of the kingdom.
While most such schemes failed, some succeeded. And where there was precedent, there was always risk.
“Valentino, as the future head of this house, you must never take appearances at face value. Doubt, and doubt again. Understood?”
Valentino bowed his head at the duke’s stern words.
“I will remember, Father.”
“Better late than never. You may leave.”
As Valentino exited, the duke exhaled deeply.
“Your brother has many virtues, but his shortcomings are just as glaring.”
He spoke as if confiding in the only other person in the room—his daughter, Viola.
“I disagree. If he just adjusts a few things you’ve pointed out, he’ll lead the house admirably.”
Unlike the duke, Valentino wore his emotions openly.
“In peaceful times, perhaps. But now? His transparency is a vulnerability.”
While competent enough as an heir, his flaws stood out starkly in the duke’s eyes.
“Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. Brother compensates well. Don’t focus only on the flaws.”
“Hah. You’re right, as usual.”
Still, as a father, he wished for perfection.
“Regardless, given Eaton’s attempts to secretly sway our vassals, we must strengthen ties with Schrantz.”
Whether for the duchy’s security or to counter Eaton’s schemes—
This wasn’t just about alliances between houses.
It was about forging personal bonds between people.
Even if Schrantz were tempted by Eaton’s plots, a pre-existing relationship might give them pause.
“And if they do betray us? That connection buys us time to uncover and prepare for it.”
The duke was certain of this.
“So how will you bridge that distance?”
“Your birthday approaches. Use it as an opportunity.”
“You want me to invite him personally?”
“Precisely.”
A summons from the hostess herself would be impossible to refuse.
And that was how Ian ended up holding Viola’s invitation—
A single slip of paper that would drag him back into the whirlwind of politics.
Leave a Reply