Finished dealing with affairs in the village, Victor and his companions set forth to explore his territory further, heading west toward a small settlement by the river, beyond which lay an unexplored forest.
An hour later, the whole company arrived in the village, which looked no different from the previous one. Same dilapidated wooden hovels and the same foul stench everywhere. Without delay, they fetched the village elder, a man in his mid-thirties.
Though younger in appearance, his physical condition was hardly better than that of the old man in the earlier settlement.
Leaving the village behind, the group headed toward the nearby fields. Victor wanted to examine them up close, assessing what he would be working with.
When he commissioned the plough from the blacksmith, he provided approximate measurements because length units in this world varied widely and lacked fixed definitions. Often, each aristocratic estate used its own unique measures.
The dimensions he indicated corresponded roughly to a depth of twenty-five centimetres for tilling. He chose these figures based on the worst-case scenario for soil conditions.
The drier the soil, the deeper the tillage required, but this exerted immense strain on draught animals. Now he intended to verify whether his judgment had been correct.
Victor wasn't an expert farmer in his previous life, but he had some familiarity with agriculture through life experiences. Technical College offered opportunities to acquire diverse knowledge simply by socializing with friends from various groups and disciplines.
Throughout the journey, contemplating his options, he recalled the most vital resource of his domain: the sea. While he knew little about its contents, he was confident that water was the foundation of life, and edible creatures must dwell there. Even if navigation beyond shallow waters was impossible, fish would still thrive in coastal regions.
Absorbed in these broader reflections, the group reached the field, which had been cleared in spring and now resembled dried-up, cracked earth.
— Dig several holes to elbow-depth, — he ordered the village elder.
The frail-looking man obeyed without protest, grabbing a tool resembling a shovel and plunging it into the ground.
Watching him dig, Victor realized how drastically this world diverged from Earth. Here, even the feeblest individual performed manual labour more efficiently than a healthy adult on Earth. Where mana was abundant among people, even the weakest citizen would exceed an Olympic athlete from his former life.
Within a minute, the man named Paris halted and looked questioningly at his lord, unsure what was expected next.
But Victor's expression reassured him, showing satisfaction through a smile.
Indeed, Victor was content because, at that depth, the soil was dark and, upon closer inspection, slightly greasy—promising excellent yields in the future.
— Jinn, record my decree: henceforth, in every village, trenches shall be excavated to dispose of waste. Furthermore, order the removal of filth from public thoroughfares and redirect it accordingly. Appoint two supervisors in each village, compensating them five copper coins daily, — he pronounced authoritatively. — From today onwards, relieving oneself in public is prohibited. Those caught breaking this rule will suffer five lashes; repeat offenders will receive ten lashes; third-time offenders will be executed.
Additionally, he sketched designs for public latrines, which he drafted while Paris dug the holes, and mandated their construction. The toilet design was rudimentary, featuring an open pit behind a partitioned shed, enabling access to collect waste material.
— My lord, why undertake all this, and moreover, why pay? They are inferiors; you could simply command them, — objected the butler.
— Jinn, do you think a nobleman acts contrary to his interests? — the lord asked rhetorically, hiding his true intentions: — Payment provides greater motivation than constant supervision with a whip.
In reality, he despised the serf system itself—it was veiled slavery, revolting to him. Not because he lived on Earth, where slaves existed differently, but because he considered it theft of people's lives, akin to demons slowly sucking out their essence. During his time in this world, he had never seen a cheerful face among commoners or serfs, only perpetually scheming, smiling noblemen. Memories from the previous Victor reinforced this disgust.
— But, my lord, what purpose does all this effort serve? — the old man persisted.
— You'll discover in two months, you'll certainly discover, — Victor hinted mysteriously, flashing a bright smile.
Finishing here, he rewarded Paris with two loaves of bread and tossed him two copper coins.
The village elder fell to his knees, sobbing tears of gratitude as if the lord had performed a miracle.
Victor had grown accustomed to such reactions but still preferred not to witness them, turning away and grasping the bridle to mount his horse. For today, he'd had enough of seeing exhausted faces and malodorous villages. One excursion had provided impressions sufficient for the entire day.
Arriving back at the castle, he found Lulu waiting at the entrance, greeting him with a radiant smile.
— Lord, lord, I was worried, you left without lunch, — she chirped excitedly, bounding toward him.
Victor inexplicably enjoyed the company of this consistently cheerful girl. Smiling, he affectionately patted her head and continued walking, while she skipped happily behind him.
Behind them followed a displeased butler, whose authority was usurped by his master's attachment to the girl. Had he had his way, he would have reprimanded her for such behaviour, but, aware of his lord's fondness for her, he dared not punish her without valid reason.
Stepping into the castle, Victor was hit by cool air, but it brought a melancholy sensation to his heart. He hated this castle, which trapped him like a cage.
Instead of providing a sense of safety, it evoked depression and a desire to escape. Its gloomy décor added to the bleak atmosphere, with the only bearable place being the dining hall, where a fireplace warmed the room and portraits of obscure nobles adorned the walls, unknown even to the previous occupant of the body.
Entering the dining hall, Victor seated himself at the head of the table and awaited his meal. Meanwhile, Lulu brought a basin of water and a towel. Washing up, he requested Alganis to join him for dinner.
Arises seldom shared meals with outsiders. Knights were virtually always nobility. Generally, they were second or subsequent sons of lesser nobles, inheriting no title besides their current rank, or offspring of knights who sought patrons and earned titles through service.
Alganis was the son of a knight and, sponsored by his father, became a regular soldier in the count's army. Through distinguished service in his first campaign, he attained knighthood. Being aligned with the deceased wife of the count, he fell out of favour after her passing and became ostracized in the household.
Failing to secure his own estate, he was subsequently transferred to serve Victor.
***
It's important to recognize that in this kingdom, a viscount could confer four baron titles and twenty knighthoods. A count could award six viscount titles, six baron titles, and one hundred knighthoods. A duke could confer eight viscount titles, twelve baron titles, and two hundred knighthoods. Only the king could bestow titles such as count.
Titles of dukes were granted exclusively to relatives of the monarch, and descendants of dukes were styled princes and princesses, entitled to inherit the throne. If the main line of succession was broken, considering there were minimally two dukes, a struggle for the title would ensue.
Conversely, a marquis typically existed singularly, and such a title conferred the privilege of serving as minister of the kingdom, second only to the king.
This title balanced the influence of dukes and the king. If the king dismissed one duke, it automatically weakened the other, compelling the king to align with the weakened duke, thereby shifting power dynamics unfavorably for the minister. Therefore, the marquis played a critical role.
The king always opposed the marquis, recognizing that he would likely ally with one of the dukes.
These checks and balances were necessary, and no king would permit one duke to grow too powerful. As soon as only one duke remained, suspicion would rise, leading to hostilities between the king and surviving duke—an outcome kings avoided.
It was easier to balance power and observe infighting among dukes.
As for rare cases of commoners elevated to knighthood through battlefield exploits, nobles regarded them with indifference. Given that such titles were non-transferrable, they would cease after the first generation.
The kingdom housed numerous nobles, counts, viscounts, barons, and knights. However, genuine power rested only with those owning estates. Land ownership was key to their authority.
Few qualified as truly powerful, and currently, the principal players were six counts, including Shermanin, two dukes, and one marquis, whose third daughter was married to Alexander Shermanin.
Victor's betrothal to the duke's daughter automatically aligned Leomville Duchy with Croyster Marquis, the kingdom's minister.
And Victor was consequently aligned against royalists (supporters of the king and monarchy).
Though trivial to commoners, nobles viewed this alignment critically. Ministers traditionally supported the nobility, and strengthening their influence would disadvantage the king, prompting him to undermine the minister.
Therefore, any supporter of the marquis became, by default, an opponent of royal authority, if not an outright enemy.
And as Victor grew stronger, he would inevitably be perceived as a threat to the king.
All aristocracy functioned through checks and balances, where even minor errors could trigger disaster. Reflecting on this dynamic, it became apparent why such nations stagnated. Because whenever one faction strengthened, others would conspire to weaken it.
***
Accepting his master's offer graciously, Alganis took his seat and, once food was served, began eating quietly.
Unlike modern times, conversing during meals was frowned upon among aristocrats and considered uncivilized, so the pair ate in silence.
Post-dinner, they relocated to the fireplace, settling into chairs and sipping local wine, which Victor found repulsive.
It tasted like awful water with a faint hint of alcohol and some local fruit resembling pears. Most distressing of all, this beverage was the kingdom's most expensive product.
However, this observation sparked an idea in Victor's mind. Unclear whether grapes existed in this world—nothing from the previous owner's memories indicated otherwise—but he knew the simplest method of distillation. This technique was well-known even to Russian children, and if successful, he could earn substantial profits from such a straightforward invention.
Pondering this possibility, the baron requested parchment and pen from a servant and summoned Jinn, who stood vigilantly by the door, ensuring his master lacked for nothing.
— Jinn, withdraw gold from the treasury, visit our neighbors, and purchase wine—twenty barrels, I think, should suffice, — Victor ordered, drawing widened-eyed glances from both the knight and the butler.
— My lord, we already have three barrels in the cellar; are we planning a feast? — Jinn inquired, though even for a celebration, such quantities wouldn't be necessary.
— No, I've conceived an idea and intend to implement it, — the lord replied.
In this world, even the worst wine cost one gold coin per barrel, and he was confident he could revolutionize it.
Without daring to ask further questions, Jinn withdrew and set off to fulfill the order. In the absence of skilled workers, he frequently handled tasks himself, and this occasion was no exception.
To prepare for early-morning shopping, arrangements had to be made beforehand, and he began immediately.
Victor was aware of this limitation but could do little about it. Education in this world was accessible only to wealthy individuals and nobility, making attracting educated professionals to his isolated domain extremely challenging.
Sketching a distillery apparatus, he mulled over enhancing the drink's flavor. The easiest option involved installing a basket to fill with dried fruit. Available locally were fruits resembling pears, known here as romoli.
Finalizing the sketch, he handed it to a servant to deliver to the blacksmith and, satisfied with accomplishing something productive, resumed his seat by the fire. Even in summer, the castle was cold and damp, and the fireplace offered the only respite for freezing inhabitants.
Dreaming of his future, sipping wine, Victor resolved that, as soon as feasible, he would construct a private estate and relocate there, escaping the psychological oppression of his current residence.
Spending nearly an hour chatting with Alganis, he yawned tiredly, rising from his chair and bidding farewell to his knight before retiring to his chambers and falling asleep, anticipating new innovations and awaiting the realization of his petty fantasies.
Awakened early the next morning by the cheerful maid, who—as always—greeted him with a bright smile, he felt invigorated.
Climbing out of bed and patiently enduring the dressing ritual, which he still found awkward, Victor proceeded to the dining hall, where breakfast awaited him.
Only after breakfast did he learn that the blacksmith had arrived early in the morning, but the butler would never disturb his master with such matters before breakfast, hence the delay in reporting.
Elated, Victor disregarding protocol, hurried outside, and upon reaching the courtyard, he immediately spotted what he had ordered: a wooden plough with a metal blade. Examining the novel instrument with delight, he ordered it transported to the field for trials.
Jinn, the knight, and even the little maid accompanied him, eager to witness what had their lord so enthralled.
This motley crew assembled in the field near the castle, where, instead of a draught animal, they harnessed the baron's horse. Of course, this arrangement was experimental only; nowhere in this world would a horse, let alone a nobleman's mount, be used for plowing.
Once everything was set, Victor intended to operate the plough himself, demonstrating its functionality, but protests and pleas from onlookers deterred him.
The unfortunate blacksmith was drenched in sweat, terrified by the prospect. Were the dignity of a nobleman besmirched, he could be summarily executed to prevent gossip.
Calming down, he himself took hold of the plough and, following the lord's instructions, began tilling the soil. Initially, the plough swayed erratically, dipping too deep or emerging too shallow, but within five minutes, Karam adapted and confidently plowed the land.
— My lord, this will transform farming forever, — Alganis murmured softly.
As someone who had lived among commoners in his father's domain, he fully appreciated the implications. Enhancing agricultural productivity would enable cultivation of vastly more land, feeding more soldiers, thereby empowering his lord and, indirectly, himself.
Only now did Alganis glimpse opportunity in this backwater region.
Viewing his lord with renewed admiration, he swore internal allegiance, acknowledging that the young baron might transform even a remote territory into a force respected by other nobles.