The fire continued burning until evening, finally extinguishing completely only when darkness fell.
By Viktor's orders, the bodies of Manita's soldiers were buried on-site, while the corpses of Baltas soldiers, along with nine wounded comrades, were loaded onto carts and escorted by six soldiers back to the castle.
He wanted to honor them appropriately, holding a funeral ceremony to demonstrate that even in death, they remained soldiers of his domain.
Thus, Viktor aimed to show his troops that they were valued, and as long as they remained loyal, he would always provide for them and their families.
In this world, the bodies of fallen soldiers usually lie rotting on battlefields, serving as food for scavengers and monsters. Ordinary soldiers were almost never buried unless it was in cities, where neglect could cause epidemics.
Having watched the fort's embers fade, Viktor eventually decided to leave for his camp.
Gathering the remnants of his army, they headed back to camp and returned to the fort only at dawn.
Soldiers went first, searching through the ruins of the burned buildings, occasionally pulling out metal objects and damaged weapons—items too damaged for direct reuse but still valuable for recycling by his blacksmith.
— My lord, it's better if you don't see this, — Alganis said as Viktor approached.
What's worse than what I saw on the battlefield, I can certainly see.
Nevertheless, Viktor walked towards the burned-out structure and peeked inside, finding the corpses of approximately one hundred people. This was only what he could see; many more were likely lost and indistinguishable.
The sight was horrific, but the smell of charred flesh was even more terrible. Overcome by the vision, he threw up right there. Quickly reacting, Alganis pulled him aside so he could recover.
As Viktor caught his breath, two soldiers carried out a chest from the building that was presumably the captain's quarters.
Locked with a hanging lock, the chest measured roughly one square meter. It was promptly unlocked, revealing a cache of ore—clearly mythril by its hue.
"Damn it, a mythril mine, and in such an inconvenient place," Viktor thought to himself.
It wasn't difficult to deduce where the mythril had come from.
— Remove the chest and send it to the castle. Soldiers will stay here and bury everyone, — he ordered, walking toward what appeared to be the entrance to the mine shaft. He didn't wish to remain near the building filled with corpses.
Inside the mine, Viktor found a torch affixed to the wall, using it to illuminate the dark tunnel.
Unfortunately, progression was cut short—the mine extended no farther than forty meters, seemingly abandoned shortly after digging began.
Yet the amount of ore found in the chest was disproportionately large for such a tiny area. This could mean only one thing: the mine was incredibly rich in mythril.
"There'll definitely be a war over this," was Viktor's first thought.
Quickly reversing course, he hurried out. Once outside, he demanded his horse and, mounting it alongside Linea, galloped furiously toward the castle.
Even as he left the fort, he yelled instructions for the soldiers to hurry and vacate the area as soon as possible.
He rode without stopping, arriving at the castle five hours later. Hurrying to his study, he sat down at his desk and started writing a letter. Finishing, he sealed it with his signet ring and immediately ran back outside.
Linea, who had been standing in the hall all this time, couldn't comprehend what was going on. She had expected clear directions after entering the castle, but instead, she watched Viktor rush around.
Ignoring her, Viktor rushed out of the castle and made his way to the barracks, where he found six soldiers who had accompanied the wounded.
— What's your name? — he asked the nearest soldier.
— My lord, my name is Krolla, — a nineteen-year-old boy replied, slightly taken aback.
— Krolla, take the soldiers with you and ride to Earl Sheramanin, — Viktor began explaining. — Hand over this letter. Answer truthfully if questioned, describe everything as it happened. Verbally tell the earl that we can't hold this position and that it will be retaken by the vicount.
Hearing the urgency in his lord's voice, Krolla grew anxious.
Without giving him time to process, Viktor ripped off his belt pouch and tossed it to Krolla.
— Here's about ten gold pieces. Buy horses along the way and ride non-stop, — he emphasized the urgency. — If money runs out, say Baron Baltas will cover all expenses.
Ending his instructions, he left the barracks and ordered Arthur to bring the finest horses. Meanwhile, he rushed back into the castle and ascended to his study, opening a hidden compartment containing his treasury.
Worrying that the funds might not suffice, he decided to give them an additional fifty gold coins for the journey. Such an amount would buy ten warhorses, but he was less concerned about the expense than getting aid from the earl.
The issue was the mine. Once news reached the vicount, he wouldn't hesitate to move in with troops.
Although Viktor knew little about his neighbor's military strength, the presence of a golden-knight guard spoke volumes. In his current condition, Viktor couldn't wage a major war.
Grabbing the gold, he ran back outside and handed it to the soldier checking the horses' tack.
— Here's another fifty gold coins. Use them as necessary, but deliver the letter as quickly as possible, — he sternly ordered.
— My lord, don't worry; we'll carry out your orders, — Krolla replied, mounting his horse and waiting for his fellow soldiers before galloping away.
"Why the bad luck? Mythril would have caused fewer problems than gold," Viktor muttered to himself.
Absorbed in his thoughts, he hadn't noticed that someone had been following him.
Suddenly, Linea's voice sounded behind him.
— Baron, do you plan to transfer the mine to the earl? — she asked, surprising him.
Turning to look at her, Viktor understood her confusion.
In this world, no noble would behave this way. Typically, they would dispatch soldiers and serfs to prevent others from claiming the mine.
However, Viktor wasn't interested in the mine—not currently. The only gain it offered now was gold, but he had other ways to generate revenue. Losing soldiers and serfs in an attempt to protect the mine was something he absolutely did not want.
— There are reasons for my decision, — he replied. — Besides, I won't sacrifice people for a mine, no matter what riches it contains.
With that, he walked into the castle to prepare for the earl's visit. This arrival was a significant event for any territory, especially one as remote as his.
Linea remained rooted in place, digesting what she'd heard.
"Since when has nobility shown concern for common folk? Trying to appear virtuous? These 'good ones' are often worse than tyrants," she reflected, struggling to understand his motivations.
***
Meanwhile, Jinn, having been recalled from the camp and informed of the earl's impending visit, was running amok in the castle, forcing servants to polish and clean everything in sight.
With no time to spare, the usual protocols were thrown out the window. Normally, high-ranking nobles would notify hosts a month in advance, but Jinn had only a week.
Based on calculations, the soldiers carrying the letter would reach the earl in four days, considering they rode day and night. The earl himself would arrive sooner, factoring in his faster horses. Blaming his lord's inefficiency, Jinn silently fumed.
Victor, meanwhile, had other important matters to address. Consequently, he traveled to Vesterville and ordered Rhina to establish a cemetery outside town, along the road leading toward Selitas.
He envisioned placing a monument there in the future, so departing soldiers could pay respects to fallen comrades and remember them as defenders.
In a world where human life was cheaper than cattle or horses, this symbolic gesture carried great significance.
Victor planned to mimic propaganda tactics from his previous world, instilling a sense of collective pride among the locals.
In a realm with unclear borders and weak links between rulers and commoners, civilians generally felt indifferent toward different lords. Should an opposing lord's army invade, they wouldn't resist unless specifically ordered by their ruling aristocrat.
Victor aimed to impress upon the people that he was their true lord, under whom they could achieve a better life—something genuinely true. Although driven by self-interest, this didn't exclude improving living standards for ordinary folks.
Such efforts also helped instill in soldiers the belief that dying for their lord was an honor that would never be forgotten. Imparting this mentality in this world was remarkably easy for Viktor.
Against the backdrop of other lords and the sorry state of his territory, he appeared god-sent—a savior, and he had no intention of halting his plans. Quite the opposite—he aimed to elevate his domain to prosperity.
***
The marketplace in Ironwood was finally built, with trading activities already underway. Today, however, merchants traded spaces rather than goods. Viktor decided to auction off market stalls, setting starting bids based on their locations. Judging by the merchants' enthusiasm, his idea to boost the territory's appeal was proving successful.
However, only part of the stalls were sold to merchants; half of the market was reserved for locals, who lacked funds to participate. Viktor implemented a rental system, introducing another innovation.
Even with this adjustment, locals hesitated to engage, leaving Viktor, who closely observed the situation, without a solution.
The market resembled a football field, with rows of empty stalls. Merchants had yet to receive permits for their booths, and locals feared paying even a single copper coin, doubting whether they'd manage to sell their goods.
Interestingly, they did have products to sell: chickens, eggs, fruits, berries collected from the forest, etc., but they typically sold these items informally on the streets or directly to the castle.
Eventually, a woman with a basket in hand timidly approached a soldier acting as administrator, hesitantly saying something. The soldier nodded, smiled, and handed her a document while pointing to a nearby stall.
Extending a coin, she turned around and called for her child, who had been waiting in the crowd. Recognizing her, Viktor remembered her as Lata, the woman he'd encountered while seeking a praying person.
Once Lata positioned herself behind the stall, she arranged her goods—eggs, mushrooms, and fruit.
Standing nearby, Viktor eagerly anticipated the beginning of trade. Seeing nobody approaching her, he feared it might set a negative precedent and decided to approach her personally.
Obviously, the person who'd been largely ignored because he stood in the background now captured everyone's attention.
He approached Lata, inquiring about her wares, selecting mushrooms, fruit, and a wooden trinket. Making a show of satisfaction, he paid and left.
Lata had no clue how much these items were actually worth—since the lord owned everything anyway—but she still received payment, amazed at what she held in her hands.
To create a positive impression, Viktor rewarded her with ten silver coins, an amount equivalent to five copper coins' worth of goods.
Everyone present witnessed this exchange. Approval from the lord was invaluable, and those who had hesitated rushed to claim their own stalls.
Victor didn't turn around; he could hear the noisy bustle of the crowd. A broad grin spread across his face.