Upon his initial understanding of the continent's history, the only thought that filled Hudson's mind, apart from wonderment, was chaos.
'Small wars every three years, large ones every ten'; it is as if the whole world is bred for warfare.
Not only do wars occur between kingdoms, but even within them, disputes are rife amongst the noble lords. One could say that from the moment of birth, war is a constant companion of the nobility's lives.
The reasons for war can be countless and ludicrous, limited only by imagination. A pot of honey or a wild beast, all can become the catalyst for war.
If it weren't for the existence of extraordinary powers, Hudson would have to wonder if he had returned to the Middle Ages. Apart from the addition of different races, the Continent of Aslante is almost a replica of medieval Europe.
Perhaps because of the cost, apart from the contents related to the Koslow Clan which were described in detail, the rest were mostly glossed over, to Hudson's disappointment.
The most troublesome thing is that all of this information is historical and does not align with the current situation. To understand the external situation, Hudson would probably have to ask Baron Redman.
But as a sly fox, Hudson is avoiding him, why would he go and seek him out?
Unable to find the answers he wanted and with a stomach full of doubt upon his return to his quarters, Hudson suddenly discovered that the magical beast crystal nucleus on his body had turned into powder.
"Did Lady Baron trick me with fake goods?"
No sooner than the thought arose did Hudson dismiss it. He had personally inspected the goods at the time of delivery, and the dense magic power could not be faked.
Furthermore, given the short amount of time, there wasn't enough to make a false impression. Hudson didn't think that a magician would be standing by Lady Baron's side.
Focusing his concentration, Hudson vaguely noticed what seemed to be a compass manifested within his mind, on which appeared to be four faintly visible inscriptions.
The Golden Finger seemed to have arrived, but regretfully, Hudson's knowledge was limited; he didn't recognize the four ancient Chinese characters inscribed on it.
Of course, even if he did know, it would be useless. Even the simplest operating procedure cannot be summed up in just four characters.
Being unsure of its use, Hudson was not upset. Regardless of its function, having it is better than not having it. The compass activated only after absorbing magic power, and that is a starting point.
Perhaps by feeding it with more demon cores, he could discover the compass's usage. However, remembering the high price of demon cores, Hudson was suddenly disheartened.
Indeed, he was fated to never get rich. In his previous life, he was burdened with debt. To think that upon crossing over, he was still fated to be a pauper. The small fortune he had just earned was about to be given away again.
Demon cores are not easy to obtain and require a trip to the big cities. He imagines that in the remote Tyron Town, the only places with a collection were the Baron's Mansion and Priest Kueen.
If Hudson was a magician or alchemist, he might have the hope of sponging off from a cheap dad. But as a knight, it's not suitable.
These matters cannot be rushed. Before understanding the situation, the cautious Hudson is not going to take risks.
...
Early in the morning, as the sun just rose, the town square was already full of people.
A knight does not exist in isolation and requires attendants. After all, someone needs to look after the armor, weapons, and horses; the prestigious knight masters can't be bothered to do it themselves.
Hudson was no exception. It was his turn to select his attendants today, and the young men gathered in the square in hopes of striking it lucky.
Even though it was just the position of an assistant knight, it remained unattainable to the domain people.
Taking this step qualifies one for military training. If they perform well on the battlefield, they could even receive rewards.
The battlefield is indeed dangerous, but without becoming an assistant knight, they'd still have to go to battle.
For medium and small nobles who can't afford a standing army, conscripting serfs into war was a common practice.
Anyway, the survival rate of those by the leader's side is always higher than that of the infantry.
"Hudson, select your candidates in your own way," Baron Redman said expressionlessly.
Close cooperation is required on the battlefield, so the closer the attendant, the better. Hudson was well acquainted with the strapping young men in front of him, among them some even close friends.
However, those were the old master's acquaintances, having nothing to do with the current Hudson. Based only on the vague memories in his mind, he couldn't distinguish who was who.
"Those who wish to become assistant knights, run ten laps around the town, ending when the hourglass runs out," Hudson said with a smile.
But in the eyes of the young men, that smile seemed extremely horrifying.
Looking at the half-empty hourglass, everyone quickly started running, afraid of being left behind.
It doesn't matter if you can't beat the enemy, as long as you can outrun your comrades. In Hudson's view, wars in the noble world are also governed by the principle of 'survival of the fittest'.
In an era where social classes are severely solidified, the chance to soar is nearly impossible. For Hudson, a lesser noble with no right of inheritance, the best method is survival.
Survive until the heir dies, until relatives run out, or maybe until one marries into a dwindling noble family, all are simpler than earning your own fiefdom through battlefield achievements.
After all, the land now has owners. Unless an external force breaks this, large opportunities are hard to come by.
In any case, it's a case of one carrot per hole; no new fief nobles can be born unless unclaimed lands appear. Even if you have meritorious achievements, they only make you honorary nobles.
"Tick, tick, tick..."
The hourglass drained quickly, and the young men participating in the selection of the assistant knight gradually returned to the square, some jubilant, others dejected—a hundred families face sorrow while one rejoices.
Just as Hudson was about to announce the results, Baron Redman suddenly said, "A total of thirty-one people arrived on time, let's start the second round!"
Hudson realized in an instant what was happening; too many people had passed. Of course, Tyron Town wouldn't lack the population, but he is currently lacking a source of income.
Following the traditional several months of tempering and training, he would have to go out and seek his own livelihood.
In Hudson's view, the more unpaid assistant knights, the better. But Baron Redman didn't believe he could afford them.
Traditional knights live by warfare; life would naturally be hard without a basis. Hudson was different, though; he didn't have the burdens of noble honor. In a tight spot, he could even turn to robbing caravans.
Despite it, the weak can't beat the strong. Since he relies on Baron Redman for a living now, Hudson, with no better option, said, "Next, we'll test agility. The ten strongest will be chosen."
Having said that, he ignored Baron Redman's displeased expression. Ten was his final line; it couldn't go any lower.
More people doesn't necessarily mean more power, but fewer people will definitely lead to disadvantages. In starting a business in the cold weapon era, the more foundational members, the better.