Duke Leomville sat in his study, gazing at his daughter with growing disappointment.
— Silvia, what do you think of this baron? — he asked her.
The girl looked at him with a contemptuous glance as if mentioning not a person but an unpleasant insect.
— A country bumpkin who doesn't know his place, — the princess said without hesitation.
"Must I have failed so much in your upbringing? How could my own child be so short-sighted? You're already fifteen years old, yet you've still not grasped your position. It's a pity that Milena isn't here; she would've handled it better than I." Aelestor recalled his late wife and mother of Silvia while looking at her portrait on the wall before continuing to question his daughter.
— Haven't you noticed that even after I attacked him, he didn't remove his armor or surrender?
— Father, just like I've been saying, he has no idea where his place is! He should have bowed down and begged for forgiveness, instead, he raised arms against you. You should have punished him for that!" — The girl was adamant.
— Silvia, he was ready to fight me despite knowing full well he'd die. Not because he wasn't afraid, but because he chose death over submission.
"This baron truly surprised me then. Any other man would have pleaded for mercy instantly, but he stood armed against someone capable of killing him with one move, never mind that I'm a duke. What makes him different? Is there really no fear in his heart? I felt how terrified he was and barely held himself together, why wouldn't he kneel?"
— You may leave now, — commanded the Duke when his daughter tried to argue further.
Hearing those words, Silvia curtsied and left the room.
***
It had almost been a month since Victor departed from his lands, and only now did he return home. Travels in this world were incredibly long and uncomfortable.
Nobles usually avoided leaving their estates, for anything could happen during their absence. Occasionally, a lord returned to find desolation—his neighbor having taken all the serfs and plundered the land. In such cases, he had nobody to blame except himself, and his only option was either to gather troops and attack back or seek support from neighboring lords.
If unable to pay taxes due to the kingdom's treasury, they simply lost their estate, replaced by another nobleman.
Victor understood these risks and worried greatly about them. Therefore, upon crossing Selitas' territory, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing caravans traveling along roads filled with people. This meant his domain continued developing, attracting new settlers seeking a life within his holdings—a resource essential for his plans.
***
One must understand that borders typically ran alongside forests, hills, rivers, etc., making reliance on maps drawn on parchment as reliable as telling time by the sun. Such discrepancies often led to constant conflicts between territories.
County or duchy boundaries were guarded by viscounts and barons, giving minor nobility opportunities to expand their domains through combat with neighbors. However, this expansion took place under the dominion of a suzerain.
This did not imply intervention in case of attacks on vassals. Until an equal-status peer made the first move, it was considered unworthy for counts or dukes to intervene directly. Immediate involvement would lead to their counterpart's suzerains joining the conflict, escalating tensions beyond border skirmishes into wars involving thousands of soldiers and knights, weakening the entire kingdom.
Wars among high aristocracy occurred only for matters of utmost importance, such as mythril mines, iron deposits, or underground caverns.
***
Victor comprehended everything, and if not for accompanying the count, with everyone aware of it, he wouldn't dare leave his fiefdom.
Now riding along a smooth road, enjoying views outside the carriage window, wherever he glanced, it was his land, his people—he was king and god here.
Three hours later, the convoy arrived at the castle, displaying his banners above its gates. Before them stood honor guards and more servants than there'd been prior to his departure.
As soon as the door opened, satisfied-looking soldiers greeted him, evidently well-fed and less trained than usual.
Victor observed Alganis following behind, nodding subtly, indicating he too noted this change and intended to address it personally. Unaware of impending changes, the knights smiled happily, relieved that their master returned safely.
— Welcome back, sir, — Jinn began, smiling slightly. — I hope nothing happened?
— Nothing worth noting. I'll fill you in later. — It was important for Victor that his steward knew every detail concerning him, which helped manage his territory effectively and deal with other noblemen.
— This is my new squire, — he informed the steward, pointing towards a boy standing near the second carriage. — Settle them both inside the castle.
After issuing orders, he headed toward his quarters, eager to inspect his possessions immediately.
Victor might receive updates from Jinn, but wanted to see improvements himself and explore ways to enhance living conditions across his lands.
However, fate decided otherwise, for once changed into fresh clothes and entered his office, he found a mountain of parchments awaiting him. Initially intending to quickly scan documents, he discovered critical information hidden within them.
First came lists detailing residents of his fiefdom, meticulously recorded by the blacksmith's daughter. On some sheets, numbers were listed vertically, previous ones crossed out. Evidently, she wrote current figures, but newcomers kept arriving, forcing her to correct and add entries repeatedly.
Smiling faintly, he imagined the girl struggling not to make mistakes, anxious lest she fail at her task. During his absence, population grew to four thousand inhabitants, surprising him, though this also implied food shortage come winter unless addressed promptly.
Next followed reports from caravan merchants and financial records showing an increase of eight hundred fifty-three gold coins in the treasury, absenteeism notwithstanding. The latter particularly pleased him, given he'd withdrawn nearly all funds before departing.
Deep into night, Lord spent hours reviewing accounts until interrupted by a small maid bringing baked chicken, causing him slight discomfort. Having grown accustomed to travel rations, he reluctantly ate, set aside remaining papers, and retired to bed under Lulu's watchful eye.
Next morning, Victor started off breakfasting with Alganis, turning into routine, proceeding afterward to train in the courtyard. During travels, training sessions fell by the wayside, resumed only en route back.
Yet problems persisted: regardless of effort, statistics hardly budged, halting progress altogether. Although skill with armor and combat ability advanced, enabling defense and effective offense alike, increasing other attributes remained elusive.
Today's session lasted nearly till lunchtime, yielding no statistical gains but earning praise from the knight regarding fighting skills. Indeed, Victor improved considerably compared to earlier days.
Training complete, they inspected villages, starting with the smithy.
Passing fields previously barren wastelands revealed stark transformations. People dug irrigation channels and carried water in barrels where direct access proved impossible.
It's crucial to grasp differences between medieval arable lands and modern-day agriculture. When hearing "field," most envision flat plots planted with various crops.
But that's the result of human labor combined with heavy machinery leveling soil manually to create vast expanses of farmland.
In reality, terrain rarely lies perfectly flat, marked instead by smaller hillocks prohibiting canal construction.
Upon arrival in the village, they encountered a scene distinct from earlier visits. Children played freely, locals roamed streets. Seeing their lord approach, villagers knelt respectfully, yet their eyes reflected joy rather than fear. They regarded him with fanaticism, anticipating miracles he seemed destined to perform.
Chickens scurried everywhere, creating an authentic rural atmosphere where families lived self-sufficient lives. Only remnants of past times—their homes and clothing—reminded them of hardships endured.
Proceeding down the street, they reached the smith's workshop, discovering two plows prepared for delivery to peasants and another being crafted right then.
An apprentice spotted the lord first and rushed to inform Karam, sweaty and focused on work. Back turned, unaware of the visitor's presence, he continued hammering away. Only when called by the boy did he turn around and hurry toward his master.
— Welcome, sir, — he greeted, bending low in reverence.
— I wish first to thank your daughter for her excellent work. — With that, Baron tossed a silver coin to Karam.
Catching the coin, Karam stared at it incredulously — it wasn't a paltry sum. But Victor didn't allow him time to ponder, asking instead to summon her.
This request unsettled him, hesitating before complying.
Alganis was about to prompt action when Victor gestured for restraint, dismounting his horse and approaching the smith.
— What puzzles me is how a skilled smith ended up so isolated, with a literate daughter? — he queried Karam.
Karam clenched massive hands resembling hammers, towering over Victor, but the baron remained calm, confident that despite his strength, the smith posed no threat.
Still, Karam sought escape routes, avoiding conversation. Yet Victor refused to let go, eventually receiving an explanation.
— My lord, we fled Armandell, where I'm wanted for assaulting a nobleman. My daughter had no part in this,— he whispered softly.
Such acts constituted grave crimes punishable by death, family losing free status and becoming serfs instantly.
Though the situation itself remained unclear, Victor awaited clarification.
Karam worked for a count as an armorer, an uncommon profession requiring strict lineage transmission, excluding apprentices entirely. If lacking sons, he adopted abandoned children or buried knowledge with him rather than pass skills elsewhere.
Thus, understanding dawned on how his daughter learned literacy. Armorers earned more than many merchants, busy year-round providing weapons maintenance services. Professionals always remained scarce. Weapons required regular care, ensuring quality craftsmanship.
According to Karam, things went smoothly until his daughter crossed paths with the count's son, who struck her face with a whip, leaving deep scars. Enraged, her father beat the boy.
Realizing consequences post-event, he escaped with his daughter, traversing forests along the border into Lanteris Kingdom. Borders couldn't prevent nobles retrieving fugitives, especially when insulted, leading nations collaborated.
Unified desire among nobility prevailed worldwide: keeping common folk suppressed and preventing uprisings.
— My lord, I didn't intend deceit. Simply, I feared you'd reject me initially, unsure how to confess afterward, — Karam confessed, gripping his large fists tightly.
— No need to worry, you've done right, — reassured Victor, patting him gently on the shoulder.
Suddenly, the knight stepped forward.
— My liege, this isn't acceptable! We must hand him over; he's guilty of attacking a noble!
Victor anticipated this reaction. No matter how justified Karam's actions appeared, no noble would tolerate such behavior.
— Tell me, Alganis, are you a knight or merely a strong man? — he questioned sharply.
To Victor, the inquiry seemed valid, yet confusing for the knight.
— Certainly, I am my lord's knight.
— So, as a knight, do you pursue justice or act like a guard dog obeying commands blindly? — This provocative question highlighted the forgotten purpose of knighthood, degraded into mere henchmen serving rulers arbitrarily.
Victor read stories about true chivalry during travels, learning that knights adhered strictly to codes of fairness.
— Tell your daughter there's no cause for concern, — Lord instructed Karam. — I require someone literate, willing to serve for one gold piece annually. Should she choose, she's welcome at the castle.
Without waiting for reply, he spun around, walking back to his steed, leaving Karam sobbing on knees and Alganis contemplating his master's message.