"K-Koko! Koko!"
Alpoi, pale with worry, frantically searched for Koko.
Soon, he spotted the dwarves drinking with Kane not far away.
"Oh, this is so delicious. Is it because it's been a while since I've had meat?"
Kane, tearing into a crispy, roasted chicken leg over a campfire, wore a satisfied expression.
He had recently been promoted to supervisor, overseeing 50 laborers, thanks to his hard work.
Initially, he'd been dragged here against his will to dig tunnels, which felt like hell. But as he got used to the work and gained subordinates, his life had become somewhat bearable.
Of course, he still thought he should have paid off his thousand-gold debt long ago.
Alpoi, trembling, stared at the size and shape of the chicken roasting before Kane.
"K-Koko…!"
Memories of Koko came flooding back. He had lovingly fed the chick when it was small, even cuddling with it as it grew larger.
― My Koko, you're so pretty. Chirp chirp!
The memory was slightly exaggerated, but to Alpoi, it was a cherished one. In this harsh estate, raising Koko had become a new joy, a solace after gambling.
And now, his precious companion was being eaten by this brute.
"Aaaaargh!"
Alpoi summoned mana into his hands and unleashed a fireball. Startled by the sudden attack, Kane and the dwarves jumped to their feet.
"What the hell!" Kane shouted, looking at Alpoi as he stepped closer.
"How dare you! How dare you eat my bet… no, my precious Koko!"
"What? Koko? What's that? Something you eat?"
"You're already eating it! Unforgivable! I'll kill you!"
"Damn it! What the hell is Koko? You crazy bastard!"
Kane, once a notorious thug of the North, was no pushover. He was a burly man who had trained in mana cultivation techniques, befitting a noble heir.
Grabbing a work hammer, Kane channeled mana into it, enveloping the hammer in a bluish glow.
Channeling mana into a blunt weapon was far more difficult than into a sword. But after toughening up on the construction site, Kane could now do it with ease.
He gripped the hammer tightly. Fueled by alcohol and his suppressed temper, he had no intention of assessing the situation further. He was ready to crush Alpoi with his hammer.
"Bring it on, you bastard! I'm the heir of Loges!"
"You think you're the only heir? I'm the heir of the Scarlet Flame Magic Tower!"
The dwarves stepped back, excitedly muttering about the entertainment as if they'd just found the perfect snack to accompany their drinks.
Just as the two prideful heirs were about to clash, something suddenly appeared beside them.
"Bawk! Cluck cluck!"
"Koko!"
Alpoi lit up and scooped up Koko into his arms. It had simply escaped the coop and was wandering around.
Watching this, Galbarik cautiously asked, "Uh… are you sure that's Koko? Can you even tell? They all look the same. There are lots of chickens wandering around here."
Alpoi glanced down at the chicken in his arms. To be honest, it did look similar to the others, and he was a bit unsure. But having already embraced it, it was too embarrassing to admit otherwise now.
"Yes, it's Koko! Look at that handsome comb! It's definitely Koko!"
As Alpoi stubbornly insisted, Kane clicked his tongue a few times before sitting back down.
"Ugh, crazy bastard."
The dwarves also resumed their seats and went back to tearing into their chicken. Alpoi pointed a finger at them and yelled, "You savages! From now on, I'm going vegetarian!"
"Do whatever you want."
Alpoi stomped off to his quarters, seething, while Kane and the dwarves paid him no mind and continued eating.
While people drinking after a long time caused minor accidents here and there, Ghislain was holding a meeting with his vassals about the next tasks at hand.
With the success of the incubator project, which had seemed impossible at first, the vassals were full of praise.
"Securing a large quantity of meat will be a great weapon here in the North. With the ongoing food shortages, we'll be able to make a lot of money."
"Well-fed soldiers and elves undergoing training will benefit greatly. Lady Vanessa has accomplished a significant feat."
Claude interjected in the middle, "It's all thanks to the lord's foresight, isn't it? I knew it would succeed all along!"
Everyone, including Ghislain, stared at Claude.
"What! Why? Why? I didn't oppose it as much as usual, did I? Am I wrong?"
Admittedly, he had opposed it less than usual. In truth, he had just given up and let them do what they wanted.
Clicking his tongue at Claude's shamelessness, Ghislain pointed at various locations on the map.
"You've all done well. Now, the important task is distributing enough incubators across the entire territory. You all understand the necessity, don't you?"
"Of course! We're planning to establish large incubation centers in key areas while providing farmers with standardized small incubators. We'll also standardize and teach the most effective methods to maximize success rates."
The small incubators weren't fully automated. Farmers would still need to check on them regularly, as before.
However, simply teaching the optimal breeding conditions would double the hatch rates, which would be more than satisfactory.
Initially, the farmers' output would be consumed within the territory. Meanwhile, large incubation centers would be established throughout to produce meat at an unprecedented scale.
Smiling at Claude's confident response, Ghislain turned to Vanessa and asked, "There won't be any problems with building additional ones in other areas, right?"
"N-No! There shouldn't be any major issues, but we'll need to monitor things a bit more closely."
Despite Ghislain urging her to rest for the day, Vanessa insisted on attending the meeting.
Success with one batch didn't mean the project was complete. Ensuring that the conditions within the incubators remained stable over time was crucial.
Since they relied on evaporating water to maintain humidity, neglecting regular checks could lead to excess humidity and temperature drops.
Vanessa and the dwarves had already made several adjustments to the incubators after observing their performance.
With one significant challenge resolved, Ghislain felt somewhat at ease.
But there was no room for complacency, even if things were going well.
'The situation has become even more complex because of me. Everyone must be wracking their brains.'
Drawing on his past life's knowledge to change the future, Ghislain found himself in increasingly unpredictable circumstances.
'One misstep, and everyone could die.'
Although the knight commander had fled disgracefully and died, the knights of Cabaldi had fought to the bitter end with their lives on the line.
According to Belinda, even the wall commander had refused to surrender despite being offered terms.
Even a mere Northern tyrant had such loyal knights. Naturally, other territories would have even more formidable ones.
'I'll have to fight even more incredible knights in the future. Not just Desmond. The knights of the duchy surpass those of other territories by far.'
Having fought tirelessly in his previous life, Ghislain knew this well. Even as an enemy, he had to admit their prowess.
To defeat such foes, there was only one solution: stay ahead of them at all times.
Fenris' estate needed to become much stronger.
Currently, they are integrating all the villages in the territory with nearby fortresses and castles. This was to maintain a perpetual state of wartime readiness.
'Each fortress and castle must be stocked with ample supplies. And for quick coordination, there's one essential thing.'
Ghislain stared at the map for a moment before drawing lines connecting the castles, villages, and even Perdium to the northern fortress.
The gathered vassals looked puzzled, but Ghislain scanned their faces and grinned.
"It's time to start large-scale road construction."
***
Count Harold Desmond was in quite a predicament.
Losing the Cabaldi County had disrupted his iron ore supply.
On top of that, his military mobilization had been exposed. While he claimed it was merely a training exercise, the royalist faction wasn't likely to believe him.
For years, he had feigned neutrality despite mounting suspicion, but now all that effort had gone to waste.
"Phew… everything has been ruined because of that bastard."
His original plan had been to assist Cabaldi and then push straight into Perdium. But with Cabaldi defeated before they could even act, the plan had evaporated.
Starting a war now would also be difficult. Any reckless move would surely provoke Marquis Branford to target him.
Even the position of Northern Army Commander had been taken by that bastard. While it wasn't a vital role, losing something he'd held stung.
'What's this? A count? That little upstart's already risen to the rank of count? And his father became a marquis!'
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. That bastard was steadily amassing everything Harold needed.
'I can't start a war just yet. But I also can't let that bastard sit on all that iron ore.'
One way or another, Harold knew he had to kill him soon.
Deep in thought, Harold turned to his vassals and asked, "Are the spies sending reliable reports?"
Harold had received information about the war, but most of it was too outlandish to trust. The spies' reports were at least somewhat credible.
"They've blended in well among the immigrants… but communication is not easy."
"Why?"
"Although the territorial lockdown has been somewhat loosened, the surveillance remains strict. They can only make contact during merchant guild transactions while working near the lord's castle. And…"
"And?"
"They say they're too busy to spare any time. The pay is good, so they've even managed to buy houses."
"..."
Harold was momentarily speechless. Why did everything go awry whenever someone got involved with that bastard?
He had sent spies to gather information, but instead, they were diligently working regular jobs.
After taking a deep breath to suppress his anger, Harold asked another question.
"Anything unusual?"
"They report that the food supplies don't seem to be decreasing. The lord is consistently distributing it to the people and engaging in trade."
This was indeed odd. No matter how much food they stockpiled, the amount being consumed was enormous. By all accounts, the supplies should have run out by now.
It was clear the territory had a hidden source of food. More information was needed.
"What about sending an assassin?"
"According to the reports, there are over 200 knights, and most of the forces are concentrated near the lord's castle. It's evident that the royalist faction has heavily supported them with knights. It would be difficult for anyone short of an exceptional assassin to even approach the castle."
Harold clicked his tongue. If an assassination attempt failed, the security around Ghislain would only become tighter.
This was a one-shot opportunity, and the plan had to be perfect.
'All this because of that brat! What kind of mess is this?'
Grit.
Harold ground his teeth without realizing it. Because of Ghislain, his reputation within the duchy had plummeted.
Everything Ghislain had achieved so far was essentially Harold's fault for failing to eliminate him.
If it weren't for the dire food shortage, Harold might have lost his position entirely.
A vassal, gauging Harold's mood, cautiously spoke up.
"What about attacking the cosmetics merchant guild?"
"What would be the point? Aside from causing minor financial losses, how would that impact the bigger picture?"
If they couldn't directly eliminate Ghislain, such petty tricks would be useless.
Moreover, the cosmetics business was tied to the Marquis house. A misstep could complicate matters further and only heighten the enemies' vigilance.
Understanding this, the vassal carefully continued.
"According to intelligence, the Count Fenris himself recently led the merchant guild. We could exploit his next move…"
"And when do you think he'll move again?"
"…"
Since the cosmetics business had stabilized, Ghislain rarely led the merchant guild personally. Waiting for an opportunity that might never come would take far too long.
The problem was that there didn't seem to be any other viable options.
"Order the spies to find out when that bastard will be traveling again."
"Yes, my lord."
Neither Harold nor his vassals had much faith in this plan.
Spies too busy with their regular jobs could hardly be expected to obtain such detailed information.
And even if they managed, the timing would almost certainly be off.
'Should I just ignore it and directly attack his territory?'
Initiating a war was far too risky. Ghislain's forces had grown significantly, and the 2nd Corps was still nearby, keeping watch.
Additionally, Count Rayfold was still alive and well.
In essence, Harold was surrounded by enemies on all sides.
Unless Amelia succeeded in her rebellion and the duchy plunged into civil war, Harold stood little chance of victory without suffering immense losses.
'So I have to wait until that bastard leads the merchant guild again… the merchant guild… Wait? A merchant guild?'
Harold paused, deep in thought, before turning to his adjutant.
"That Paril Merchant Guild that sided with us—didn't they meet directly with him to negotiate?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"I knew my memory was right. Fine. If he won't come out, we'll have to go to him and kill him there."
"You mean…"
"We'll sacrifice the guild. Tell them to create an opportunity to meet him and kill him."
Sneaking in was too risky, but getting close enough for an ambush dramatically increased the chances of success.
To achieve this, they needed bait tempting enough to compel the lord to meet in person.
"Make him an offer he absolutely cannot refuse. Something that forces him to come out."
This plan required a guild from a different region, one whose ties to Harold remained undisclosed.
It was a costly sacrifice for Harold.
The vassals, aware of this, voiced their concerns.
"Even if it succeeds, the loss is too great. We've invested so much time in building up that guild."
"Having him alive is a bigger loss. Send along the wine provided by the duchy."
Harold had one special item: a rare wine sent by the duchy to assassinate Rayfold's knight commander, the finest sword of North.
The wine was so precious that even the duchy had only a few bottles.
Harold was desperate enough to use it on Ghislain instead of Amelia.
The vassals couldn't object further. Harold's chilling gaze was laced with murderous intent. If they pushed him any further, they might become his next targets.
Harold ground his teeth once more and repeated his order.
"Make sure that bastard is killed. Pass the word."
[T/L: Please support me and read 205 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]