Zwalter's eyes were filled with pride and trust.
"You've achieved so much already. I could never have imagined you'd become this impressive."
"You did well. Really, you've done so well."
He patted Ghislain's shoulder in encouragement.
Watching them from the side, Homerne cleared his throat a few times and then started dispersing the crowd.
The townspeople were reluctant to leave, cheering Ghislain's name long after they'd been asked to go.
Finally, the soldiers had to escort their families back home, and only then did the area quiet down.
Ghislain sent the mercenaries back to their quarters and headed inside the castle.
As he was about to return to his room to rest, Zwalter stopped him from behind.
"What about the terms of surrender? Show me the draft you brought."
It was time to decide on rewards for meritorious service.
Rewards had already been decided based on achievements, but the amount of reparations they received would determine the extra funds available.
Half-concerned, half-curious, Zwalter threw the question at him. Ghislain, smiling brightly, answered without hesitation.
"There isn't one."
"No terms of surrender? Why not?"
"I killed him."
For a moment, Zwalter blinked, trying to process the meaning of Ghislain's words.
Ghislain's demeanor was so unshaken that Zwalter had to ask again, wondering if he had misheard.
"What? You killed him? Really?"
"Yes."
Zwalter's expression hardened.
"…Did you forget what I told you?"
"I haven't forgotten. But when I saw things firsthand, I thought it best to wrap it up quickly."
"Wrap it up quickly? What do you mean?"
"If we accepted their surrender, they'd just target us again. It's better to prevent trouble ahead of time."
Zwalter let out a sigh.
He'd warned his troublemaking son to avoid creating issues, and yet, here he was, making quite the mess.
He was about to scold him, but seeing his son, covered in dust and grime, he swallowed his words.
"…."
The deed was done; what more could he say?
It wasn't something he hadn't anticipated, and it wasn't urgent enough to keep his son, who hadn't even had a chance to rest after the war, tied up.
"Get some rest, and we'll talk about it later."
Shaking his head, Zwalter gave his son's shoulder a gentle pat and turned to leave.
Somehow, his shoulders and back seemed to droop slightly.
***
The next day, a mix of people gathered in the audience hall for the distribution of war rewards.
"Let's begin."
At Zwalter's words, Homerne stepped forward.
With spittle flying, he began a speech on the glory of their victory.
As he went on, people's faces began to fade with boredom.
Noticing the dull expressions, Zwalter promptly interrupted Homerne.
"That's enough. Let's proceed with the rewards."
Since they'd already organized achievements and honorees while Ghislain was away, the awards proceeded quickly.
They started with the lowest-ranked soldiers.
Next, the administrators who handled supplies and management, sustaining the war effort.
Then came the knights, the core strength of the territory, who received appropriate monetary and positional rewards for their deeds.
"I will now announce the second-rank honorees. Knight Commander Randolph! Master of Arms William…."
The commanders were awarded the title of second-rank honorees.
Names that might typically have been first-rank in other times were called, but no one found it strange or begrudged it.
When the awards for second-rank honorees were finished, people remained in their seats with expectant faces.
The most important figure was yet to be awarded.
Everyone's gaze turned to Ghislain.
He was the true hero of this war, the one who had brought Perdium to victory.
They were all curious to see what grand reward he would receive.
"Young Lord Ghislain, come forward!"
At Homerne's call, Ghislain stepped forward and knelt on one knee.
The crowd fell silent, all eyes on the lord and his son.
The audience hall was enveloped in a sudden, reverent silence, and Zwalter rose, savoring the moment.
"By the unanimous decision of all the vassals, there is only one first-rank honoree—Ghislain Perdium. It would not be an exaggeration to say that this victory is thanks to him."
The knights and soldiers who had witnessed Ghislain's prowess on the battlefield nodded in agreement.
Some of the vassals frowned as though they still couldn't believe it, but they could not resist the consensus.
"Thus, I grant Ghislain two thousand gold."
The hall erupted into cheers.
"Wow, incredible! Two thousand gold—what an enormous sum!"
"That's enough to live in luxury forever!"
"The young lord deserves no less!"
People talked excitedly, astonished by the reward.
The combined total of all other awards didn't add up to two thousand gold.
For ordinary people, it was an amount they'd never see in a lifetime.
The crowd was understandably shocked that such a fortune would go to one person.
But off to the side, Belinda, Gillian, and Kaor wore puzzled expressions.
"…."
Ghislain looked at Zwalter, who seemed quite proud of himself, with a wry smile.
For the estate to be so impoverished, two thousand gold was considered an extraordinary amount…
***
For someone who had lived a frugal life, Zwalter's willingness to spend money was understandably limited.
Ghislain, knowing this, didn't object or reject the amount as too little in the audience hall.
He'd collect his real reward later.
Though the awards ceremony had concluded, the work of post-war handling was still unfinished.
After dismissing the crowd, Zwalter gathered his key vassals and asked Ghislain, looking conflicted,
"Did you really have to kill Count Digald? They had already overextended themselves for this war, and their forces were already decimated…."
"Do you really believe that?"
"…."
Ghislain's unexpected question left Zwalter without a reply.
"Digald couldn't have prepared such a force on its own. They were backed by others. You know this as well, Father—you know why Count Loges didn't show up, don't you?"
"…Yes, I do."
Zwalter's voice was heavy. Ghislain continued resolutely.
"That's why I killed him. Even if it was fabricated, Count Digald had enough reason to attack us. If he were alive, those who actually invaded us could easily use him to launch another attack soon. Eliminating Digald county entirely buys us at least some time."
"That may be true, but…."
"Furthermore, most northern territories consist of independent counties, not feudal holdings. This is an opportunity to expand our land without cumbersome procedures."
"Ahem…."
Zwalter coughed, unable to hide his discomfort.
His son always sought extreme efficiency.
It wasn't necessarily bad, but… traditions couldn't simply be ignored.
The thought of an onslaught of protest letters from other nobles gave him a headache already.
"We could have settled for reparations or imprisonment. We're not even equipped to manage an additional territory."
It wasn't that Zwalter disliked the idea of expanding the territory.
The problem was their financial reality.
Perdium was already poor, and absorbing the equally impoverished Digald would only double their troubles.
The internal state of Perdium was poor, and they were counting on the reparation payments from Digald. They couldn't hope to manage Digald's territory.
To stabilize it, they'd have to pour all the remaining resources into Digald instead.
"Don't worry. With the Rune Stone, I'll help you bring both estates back to stability as quickly as possible."
"Do you really think it will be enough?"
"It will be."
"…Very well, you're not wrong. If we can absorb Digald, we will grow stronger. What's done is done, and we'll let it go, but…."
Zwalter looked at him with worried eyes.
"Honestly, it concerns me. Your actions are growing increasingly extreme."
"…."
"Try to restrain yourself a bit. You're aware of how dangerous it is to provoke other nobles and lords."
The pursuit of pure efficiency would continually clash with others' resistance.
In the long run, that could result in significant loss.
The entrenched powers could be formidable.
It was often wiser to make some concessions than to turn everyone against you.
Zwalter was urging him to remember this.
Ghislain, knowing the nature of the nobility, nodded in agreement.
His father was simply acting pragmatically because he couldn't see the future.
"I'll try."
"Hmm…."
Zwalter sighed. Judging from his tone, it seemed likely he'd continue to act on his own terms.
But even if he wanted to admonish him, Zwalter could no longer do so casually.
Ghislain's abilities had outgrown his own influence.
'Ha, how did things end up like this?'
Ghislain had grown up so quickly that it was hard to keep up. The changes had been as swift as lightning.
Though his mind was tangled with concern, he couldn't help but feel proud.
What parent wouldn't be pleased to see their child grow beyond their reach?
'Sure, he's a bit extreme, but he's still young.'
What was done was done.
Truthfully, Zwalter was happier and prouder than anyone.
He'd only been voicing his concerns as a father.
"I only said it because I'm worried, so don't take it the wrong way. You've done very well. For now, take some rest. There will be a victory banquet soon."
As he thought about how to stabilize the territory, Zwalter suddenly remembered something he'd forgotten.
'Wait… does that mean we're not getting the reparations?'
A new problem suddenly surfaced.
Perdium had almost no money left.
The plan had been to use the reparation money from Digald to fund the rewards.
But now that Digald had become part of Perdium, there was no excess cash to be taken.
"Albert… how much money do we have left?"
When he asked, Albert, the treasurer, replied with an incredulous expression.
"We have no money."
"Nothing?"
"None. Why are you asking? We used up every bit of supplies we had for the war. We've always been broke."
"…Then how will we manage the rewards?"
"Weren't we going to cover it with the reparation funds from Digald?"
"…Yes, that was the plan."
His joy in victory was fading fast.
While he could delay the rewards for the vassals, that wasn't the case for the knights and soldiers.
The longer he delayed their rewards, the more their morale would decline.
Belief in reward for service was the foundation of loyalty. War bonuses were a core part of that 'reward.'
"Sigh, we must reward those who served us!"
Zwalter clicked his tongue, looking around at his vassals, wordlessly pressing them to find a way to come up with the funds.
But all their gazes fell on Ghislain.
They all looked like they had something to say but didn't dare voice it.
The wealthiest person in the estate and the one who had promised the Rune Stone.
And, the one and only first-rank honoree.
"Ahem… My throat's a bit dry."
Clearing his throat, Zwalter gave an awkward smile.
"Uh… Ghislain? Could you give us the Rune Stone in advance?"
Instead of granting the reward to their top honoree, they'd have to borrow money from him.
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]