"Hmm! No wonder it's a monster's egg; this energy is so rich..." Rynar wiped his mouth after finishing breakfast.
A simple fried egg nearly brought him to tears—it had been ages since he last had one.
"Wuwuwu~" A distant, melodious horn sounded, accompanied by the creaking of hinges as all the gates of Riverguard slowly opened...
The commoners poured out with various tools in hand.
Centered around Riverguard, they would search for supplies along the way. Some headed towards Swift River, carrying fishing nets and pushing carts.
Most of the city's meat supply relied on them. Perhaps due to the abundant fish catches, as more and more commoners flocked to Riverguard, countless fish-based products were developed by the people of Zaltarion.
Items like fish balls, fish paste congee, and fish floss bread provided hope for survival to the citizens of Riverguard.
"Hmm~" Rynar stretched lazily and stepped out of the tent.
The streets, once bustling with soldiers, had grown sparse; many Rapid Infantry had suffered heavy casualties.
The conscripted light infantry had been dispatched to the riverside plantations and chicken farms.
The knights had set out early in the morning with the commoners, bearing the responsibility of protecting them.
The Battanian archers and Zaltarion city guards patrolled the city walls, while only a few pairs of Rapid Infantry and Dunwenian Swordsmen could be seen on the streets.
This change brought a lighter atmosphere to Riverguard, filled with more signs of life.
"Lord! Good morning!" Caslow, who had been waiting outside the tent, rushed up as soon as he saw Rynar.
"Good morning, Caslow!" Rynar brushed the snowflakes off his shoulders as he spoke.
"There are so many fewer soldiers on the streets!" Caslow said, his eyes reflecting nostalgia.
"The soldiers have their places to be; this is good. Otherwise, they'd just be idle in the city!" Rynar smiled.
"Speaking of which, lord, shouldn't we renovate your castle when you have the time?" Caslow pointed ahead to the castle, which was being used as a warehouse.
"No rush. Let's build a few large warehouses first! We can't just throw all the supplies out!" Rynar chuckled.
"Hehe! You see, I almost forgot! You always think ahead! You truly are the embodiment of Zaltarion's glory!" Caslow's flattery was in full swing.
"Haha!" Rynar laughed. This annoying little sycophant; why did that sound so pleasant?
"Your Majesty! Do you have any plans for today?" Reynard appeared beside Rynar without him noticing.
"No plans. Let's reinforce and renovate all the houses quickly. Our people need warm homes.
Also, let Aivy take her priests to patrol the city and treat the sick.
We don't have any doctors or alchemists available, so we have to rely on the priests' light magic for now," Rynar instructed Reynard thoughtfully.
"Wouldn't that be too wasteful..." Reynard hesitated, as using healing magic primarily for saving lives seemed a bit extravagant.
"We have no choice. Without alchemists to brew various potions, we can only depend on the priests. They'll just have to work hard for a while," Rynar said firmly.
We can't make Dylan do this sort of work. Generally, it's the apprentices who brew various healing potions. Asking him to do it would probably drive him insane...
Rynar and Caslow meandered up to the city wall, where they encountered the patrolling Marcus and Lance.
"Your Majesty!" The two quickly bowed.
"No need for formality. Lance, I thank you for your bravery during this war, leading the Rapid Infantry in fierce combat!
Your decisive role contributed to the victory of the coalition! Therefore, I grant you the hereditary title of court baron! Kneel!"
Rynar drew his sword, lightly tapping Lance's shoulders. Given the limited conditions, everything was kept simple.
"I hope you serve loyally! Do not neglect the affairs of Riverguard!" Rynar encouraged.
"Thank you for your trust, Your Majesty! I will not let you down! Your will shall guide my sword!" Lance said, excitedly kneeling on one knee.
Although it wasn't an actual barony, being a court baron was still quite rare.
Each title had its advantages.
Court nobles served beside the king, and as long as the royal family did not perish, they would almost certainly remain intact, especially since it was a hereditary title.
"Marcus, you've done well in protecting the territory and ensured stability in the rear during the war. I now grant you the title of lord! Kneel!" Rynar continued.
"Your Majesty! Wait!" Marcus quickly interrupted Rynar.
"What's wrong?" Rynar asked curiously.
"I feel that my achievements are not enough to warrant this title..." Marcus said, feeling ashamed. He had mostly just tagged along during the battle.
He hadn't even seen an orc, let alone a goblin. Guarding Riverguard, he had always been on alert for non-existent enemies, which meant he had little to show for it.
"... In that case, we'll confer the title later!" Rynar consoled Marcus, who looked embarrassed.
Contrary to Marcus's feelings, Rynar believed Marcus's contributions were significant; he had safeguarded the last retreat for everyone.
A lord title was certainly not excessive, but since he didn't want it, it could be kept for now. Nobility shouldn't be treated as common as cabbages; if there were too many, it would lose its value.
Looking at Marcus, Rynar suddenly thought of Reynard. That guy had turned and run when Rynar proposed giving him a reward.
According to a certain northern governor's famous quote in a game.
"Don't let the honor of nobility blind my soul filled with holy light!" (Reynard's exact words)
At that time, it had made Rynar so furious that his mouth twisted. Had nobility really sunk to the point where it was looked down upon?
"You all go about your business. Caslow and I will take a walk. No need to follow us," Rynar waved his hand to stop them from tagging along.
...
"Caslow, look how humble Marcus is! When I conferred a title of lord on you, you didn't hesitate at all and accepted it immediately. Why can't you be more modest?" Rynar teased Caslow.
"God have mercy! I've shed blood for you! I've been loyal to you! You can't do this! Do you think it's easy to kill my way here and earn a lord title?" Caslow immediately put on a pitiful expression.
"Hm, you have a point. Then I won't strip your title," Rynar said, feigning a serious face.
"What! Strip my title? Are you serious? You don't kill the donkey after the work is done! Besides, I feel that as a Dragon Knight, I'm still somewhat useful, right?" Caslow's eyes widened.
"That's true; at least you're a vacant knight. Should we wait until the griffon knights are trained before stripping it?" Rynar muttered quietly.
"..." Caslow.
"Report!" A galloping knight interrupted the banter between Caslow and Rynar.
"What's going on?" Caslow's gaze sharpened, and he leaped up, grabbing the reins to halt the rushing warhorse.
"Your Majesty! Our citizens were shot by unknown creatures while foraging for wild vegetables in the woods of the eastern Zaltarion Plains!" the knight reported hurriedly.
"How many?" Caslow asked quickly.
"At least dozens!" the knight replied.
"What about the others?" Rynar's expression changed; the team that went east was down to just him.
"The other knights are covering the civilians' retreat! The creatures attacking us didn't pursue beyond the woods!" the knight explained.
"What are the casualties?" Rynar continued questioning.
"No one died. All the arrows struck their scapula! They don't seem to want to kill us; they just want to drive us away!" the knight pondered for a moment before replying.
"Centaurs?" Rynar and Caslow exchanged glances, both uttering their suspicions simultaneously.
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