Soldiers accompanying the count's detachment scattered across the terrain, checking the vicinity, while arrangements were made for Victor and his father to rest.
In this world, aristocrats went to war with comfort, and such expeditions were like picnics in nature.
Servants set up tents for relaxation, unloaded tables, chairs, and everything needed for a field kitchen. The tables were not compact and convenient for transportation but full-sized tables for twelve places, and there was a high-backed chair trimmed with leather and gold inserts provided for the lord.
Victor watched all this as idiocy but expressed no reaction either verbally or physically.
Generally, they should have arrived here much faster, but the serfs following them could not be left unprotected, and this expedition dragged on almost the entire day, which greatly displeased the lord because he very much wanted to return to his affairs.
The Brick Factory had already begun stable production, and even though defect rates reached forty percent, it was still sufficient to finish constructing the primary furnace.
Instead of working in his domain, he was forced to do nothing and watch serfs restoring the fort, while soldiers marched in circles, pretending to be busy.
Precisely, they were only pretending, because if Elian spread his aura in all directions, he would know everything happening within a radius of one kilometer. Even insects would avoid this camp, but soldiers dared not rely on the half-elf to impress their lord.
This was normal in this world, where the eccentricity of aristocracy ensured that any knight could gain a title simply for flattering his lord or being more noticeable and courteous.
Therefore, even in battle, the more cunning preferred staying close to the noble rather than being on the front lines, ensuring their visibility during military campaigns.
However, there were also "original" nobles, like Pyotr Manita, who reportedly gave no titles to anyone. Although rare, this did happen, and if Victor did not intend to randomly distribute titles in the future, assuming he had the opportunity, to avoid resistance to his reforms, then Pyotr was simply greedy.
Pyotr commanded two truly excellent knights, both of whom distinguished themselves as remarkable warriors on the battlefield, but he never granted them estates, and they could not leave him.
A nobleman's service could be terminated, but finding a new lord afterward was almost impossible; no one would want a soldier from another noble, whatever the reason for his withdrawal from his oath of loyalty.
Thus, not only did the noble choose his knight, but knights also chose their lord.
Pyotr was a wealthy aristocrat, and many aspired to serve him.
But once again, the stupidity of local people manifested itself, as they hoped for the best and joined his service, aiming to become the first recipients of estates and titles, but this "carrot" hung perpetually before their noses, always out of reach.
Of course, a noble could not completely ignore a knight's achievements, but Victor was confident that if one of the knights achieved unprecedented feats, compelling Manita to award a title and part of his territory, some misfortune would inevitably befall that knight.
An awarded estate could not be revoked without serious reasons, and granting a title along with land would give such a knight the right to appeal to the council of nobles if his suzerain crossed the line, and these were precisely the situations the viscount sought to avoid.
Although Victor was not particularly interested in what transpired in this world, he tried to monitor certain important aspects that concerned him. These were interesting to him primarily.
This not only provided insight into potential threats from the north but also guidance on how to allocate lands and titles to his own knights and subordinates in the future.
With his knowledge and capabilities, he was confident he would not remain a baron forever, and, considering the items stored in his inventory, he could immediately present gifts to the king and receive at least the title of viscount.
Unfortunately, he could not proceed in this manner for many reasons, one of which was the count, whose position would weaken if his vassal effectively switched sides by such an act.
***
— Victor, why is the daughter of Baron Clint in your castle? — the count's voice sounded.
They were seated in chairs placed side by side, separated only by a small circular bronze table. The count pretended to be intensely focused on events occurring at the fort a hundred meters away.
Not immediately collecting his thoughts, Victor did not immediately understand the question but quickly regained his composure.
— Our barony has ongoing business with Clint, and the baroness wishes to personally oversee it, — Victor replied, nearly truthfully. Luckily, the girl had withdrawn and could not hear his explanation.
— Do you intend to marry her?
Victor had anticipated something like this, so he neither denied nor confirmed, referring only to the fact that he did not exclude the possibility.
The count did not dwell on this topic but warned that he could not marry her until the wedding with the duke's daughter took place.
Usually, mentioning this woman triggered a headache for Victor, but now he revised his attitude and decided that there would always be a way out, and this wedding would not interfere with his plans and might even be useful.
Engaging in conversations on neutral topics, the two of them remained there until dinner, after which they retired to their respective tents.
The next day, Victor asked the count's permission to return to his domain, as many matters required his attention, and, receiving it, immediately set off.
Indeed, there was nothing for him or the count to do at the fort. However, unlike Victor, the count simply wanted to demonstrate his presence, as this would be recorded by all other nobles, showing that he not only deployed his garrison of soldiers there but also attributed great importance to the place by arriving personally.
Such small nuances might seem incomprehensible to ordinary people, but to nobles, they spoke volumes. Even if the count himself was not seen, rumors would spread like a hurricane, and within a month, the entire kingdom would know about it.
This arrangement suited Victor more than adequately, as now the northeastern part of his territory was protected by the count's soldiers, leaving only the northwest, from where monsters could come.
This detail was crucial because the count's soldiers would not stir unless threatened by the fort, and if monsters traveled along the coastal line, it would definitely not affect them.
He had already begun contemplating not just a castle in the north but a wall spanning the entire northern frontier, but this was a distant future; for now, all he wanted was time.
Planning construction was a worthwhile endeavor, but the military campaign was drawing nearer, and his soldiers still wore old uniforms and had not yet practiced teamwork in combat conditions.
Victor rode to Rivenhall to check the progress of constructing new foundry workshops, even though the mines had not yet been transferred to him, but he would certainly find some metal to outfit his soldiers.
He had three blacksmiths, and as soon as the hydraulic hammer and new bellows were ready, the forging speed would increase dramatically. Drawings for shields, swords, and armor were already complete, and he was eagerly anticipating the moment when his soldiers would appear in full equipment.
As soon as Victor arrived in the village, he saw preparations underway at the riverside site, where two dwarves were shouting loudly at everyone, like foremen unhappy with lazy workers.
— When will the smithy be ready? — Victor asked the dwarves immediately upon dismounting.
Geldor did not even turn around but walked toward the area where serfs were leveling the ground, and Baltor answered instead.
— I think the ground will be ready tomorrow, but the smithy itself won't be earlier than two weeks.
"I can't speed this up; spring planting has already begun, and workers are needed everywhere, and I have a severe shortage of personnel."
His idea of attracting new residents had just begun, and there were no tangible results yet.
According to his plan, Vorcat spread rumors in all visited territories about a foolish baron distributing food and accommodation to all his inhabitants. When Vorcat heard the rumors he was supposed to propagate, he triple-checked, as such a thing was unheard-of.
But Victor knew that people would not believe in a generous lord who cared for his residents and would instead become suspicious. However, if framed as foolishness, it could attract those seeking easy profit, and since he had no perfect solution, he decided to try everything.
Naturally, this would attract many unscrupulous individuals, but it was his responsibility to transform such people into worthy citizens of his domain.
Vorcat was also tasked with bribing bandits and robbers to help gather people and transport them to his territory, and this was closer to the merchant's comfort zone than spreading rumors about nobles, which could end badly for him.
In fact, Vorcat's trading brought only minimal profits so far because there were many bribes and kickbacks involved. He had to make generous contributions to lords of other territories and bribe guards and wardens almost everywhere, and this was not a standard bribe but a full-fledged bribe to ensure his safety.
Standard bribes were not even considered as such, while what the merchant did was a bribe for timely warnings if their lord decided to confiscate merchandise or arrest him.
Precautions were not unnecessary, as in this world, nobles did not consider future losses.
Reputation? What is it? Can you eat it?
Nobles owed no explanations to merchants, and if another noble appeared, they could always reach an agreement. But who would advocate for a merchant beaten to death by negligent guards?
Thus, Vorcat remained constantly vigilant, doubly careful with the goods he transported.
***
Thinking about population issues, he mounted his horse and, accompanied by Lineya, rode toward Ironwood, where he intended to check the market's condition, but he was intercepted by the village elder of Rivenhall.
— My lord, we lack tools, and we cannot properly cultivate the fields, — the elder reported.
A new problem arose due to the new ploughs and irrigation system. Fields had expanded, requiring more workers and tools, but the blacksmiths were currently busy, and diverting them was not an option.
— I'll think of something; keep working with what you have, — Victor ordered and rode toward Ironwood, surveying the fields along the way.
At that moment, he felt like the master of all this, as everything here belonged to him, and he participated in everything happening. He genuinely wanted people's lives to improve, and with this in mind, he understood that he needed to prepare several things before winter to save many lives.
Even now, people died in villages and suffered from diseases, but he could not help them because he lacked funds and medicine. If he rushed to assist them immediately, he might not be ready for winter, and then hunger would kill dozens more people than were dying now.
Trying to ignore all this, he found it difficult. Watching TV reports about hunger in Africa and thousands dying from harsh living conditions was one thing, but watching emaciated children look at him and strain to bow, lacking the strength to do so, was another.
Of course, the situation in villages had improved considerably since his arrival, but it was not enough; he was tired of seeing people in torn clothing and semi-starved children. This was emotionally taxing, and he had no one to complain to or confide in.
Victor rode along the fields, recalling how similar fields looked on Earth, but he understood that such a comparison was unrealistic for now. Without genetic modification and chemical fertilizers, ideally, he could achieve seventy to a hundred kilograms of wheat per hectare, but even that he was not certain of.
Honestly, he also thought about measuring all the land correctly and mapping it properly, as only then could he strictly control everything happening on his fields.
But everything again hinged on people, especially those who could read and write.
"Nothing but problems and no solutions." Thought Victor as he crossed the border of Ironwood Village.
But this was no longer a dilapidated hamlet inhabited by two-and-a-half invalids; it was now a large village that could soon become a town.
Trailers constantly traveled through the streets carrying loads, merchants argued with each other, and local children ran between them, trying to find work.
Now there was work here, and seeing these children, Victor decided it was time to build a school. Every missed day was another missed opportunity.
"As soon as I return to the castle, I'll order teachers to be found, even if I have to dig them up from underground!"
— My lord! — a voice called out.
Looking downward, Victor found the village elder, or rather his son, who now performed his duties.
This was a man of twenty-seven named Malik, with a rough face, blue eyes, and red hair, standing nearly two meters tall.
— What is it?
— My lord, a gentleman is looking for you, — Malik replied.
— Did he specify what he wants? — Victor asked in return.
Before Malik could answer, a gentle male voice captured Victor's attention.
— Sorry, it was I who was looking for you, — said a man accompanied by two soldiers. — Allow me to introduce myself: Nolla Bremz, Viscount.
Victor dismounted and, as befits a nobleman, reciprocated the greeting.
— May I ask why you were looking for me?
— I came from the capital in search of your wine, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find a single barrel, — Nolla smiled.
He looked about twenty years old and was a strikingly handsome man, equal in height to Victor, with pale skin, beautiful sharp facial features, and the most unusual eye color Victor had ever seen — golden, matching his hair.
— I'm inviting you to dinner at my place, where we can discuss business, — Victor offered.
This was intriguing because the nobleman before him did not shy away from trade, and his appearance displayed no condescension during conversation; from the start, he behaved with him as an equal.
After such interactions, Victor could not simply let the man from the capital leave without getting to the bottom of everything.