Belinda wasn't the only one thinking along those lines. Gillian chimed in to support her argument.
"It might not happen immediately, but eventually, you'll need to unite all of the North under your banner."
"What is it with you two today, Gillian? Why are you siding with her all of a sudden?"
"The soldiers in the northern army are already yearning to join Fenris. Even after the war ends and the northern army is disbanded, they'll grow dissatisfied with their own lands."
"Hm…"
"By now, they've seen how Fenris operates, how its people live."
"That's true. They're bound to make comparisons."
"Exactly. Since joining the northern army, they've been eating better than they ever did back in their territories. If they're sent back, it's only a matter of time before they flee their lands and come to us."
Ghislain nodded. He was fully aware of the atmosphere among the soldiers. More and more were openly expressing their desire to join Fenris.
Gillian raised another point.
"If it were just the soldiers, it wouldn't be such a problem. But when the northern army is disbanded, there will undoubtedly be bigger issues. There are knights and commanders leading these troops as well."
When assembling the northern army, Fenris had ensured that no commanders with familial ties to their lords were included. This was to centralize authority.
As a result, those who had been pushed to the periphery of power in their own territories became the commanders of the northern army. Unsurprisingly, many of them now wished to defect to Fenris as well.
It was rare for the desires of soldiers and their commanders to align so completely. And they all harbored grievances against their home territories.
If the northern army were disbanded as things stood, many of these troops could devolve into bandits or incite rebellions.
Seeing Ghislain deep in thought, Gillian added, "This is the natural flow of the times. Everyone wants to follow you, my lord. If we don't accept them, they'll only fall into greater despair."
Kaor, standing nearby, interjected, "He's right. Down south, the ducal house has already consolidated everything. There's no rule saying the North can't do the same. Honestly, everyone already wants it. Just march your army, and they'll all kneel."
Even Alfoy joined in.
"In that case, give me a territory too. I want to be a lord. Make me an earl while you're at it."
Before he could continue, Vanessa swiftly covered his mouth and dragged him away.
Ghislain clicked his tongue and shook his head.
What had started as a simple effort to defend his land and people had spiraled far beyond his original intent.
He harbored no such grand ambitions. But it was hard to ignore the undeniable tide of history he had inadvertently set in motion.
"We'll discuss this later. There are more urgent matters to deal with right now."
The others exchanged faint smiles. Even though Ghislain hadn't outright rejected the idea, they saw it as a victory.
"They've all made up their minds, haven't they?"
Ghislain clicked his tongue again and unfurled a map.
"Let's focus on the immediate crisis. The plague is spreading, and the lords are refusing to cooperate."
A messenger from the capital had brought troubling news: many lords were hoarding materials needed for medicine production, intending to sell them at exorbitant prices.
With so many lords engaging in this profiteering, proper medicine production was impossible. The shortage had caused the plague to spread even faster across the kingdom.
Pointing to several locations on the map, Ghislain remarked, "Some people just can't help themselves. It's always these greedy fools who end up causing the biggest problems."
Gillian asked cautiously, "Should we deploy the army immediately?"
"As urgent as the rifts are, people are dying from this plague right now. We have no choice but to seize the materials by force and produce the medicine ourselves. I'm not fond of heavy-handed tactics—I do value freedom, after all."
Ghislain shrugged as he glanced around the room.
"But when people's selfishness is worsening the crisis, there's no other option, is there?"
The others chuckled. For someone who claimed to dislike coercion, Ghislain certainly seemed ready to enforce his will when needed.
Perhaps, as Belinda had suggested earlier, it would be better for him to simply unify the North sooner rather than later.
Although Marquis Branford had officially banned the trade of medicinal materials in the kingdom, the lords were unlikely to comply so easily.
With the plague sweeping across the continent, hoarding materials or selling them abroad promised immense profits.
Initially, Ghislain had been unsure how to handle the situation.
"The rifts are still spreading too fast."
Rifts were steadily expanding their territory. Even powerful lords were struggling to contain the riftlings and were gradually being pushed back.
Smaller territories were barely holding on and had to retreat repeatedly.
Ultimately, it would fall to the northern army to resolve these issues. The damage other lords would sustain trying to deal with the Equidema would be catastrophic.
If that happened, there would be no troops left to fight the ducal faction.
Yet, watching people die from the plague was unacceptable. Even if they managed to eliminate the rifts, victory would be meaningless if the people perished.
"Deploy the army. Let's start by paying a visit to the lords who refuse to cooperate."
With Ghislain's command, the northern army changed course.
Although the kingdom's military and royal officials were making their own efforts, they wouldn't be able to seize the materials from the lords quickly enough. Forcibly searching and fighting the lords' forces would be a drawn-out process.
Marquis Branford had likely given Ghislain full authority precisely because of this.
"In other words, they need someone to wield the sword for them."
Ghislain smirked. As someone who also wanted this situation resolved swiftly, he had no objections to playing that role.
"Send word to Claude to release all our reserves. We'll eradicate this plague as quickly as possible."
The North had remained unaffected by the plague. The front-line forces, including Ferdium's army, had all been given the medicine, and rifts hadn't appeared nearby.
Belinda, curious, asked, "Is the plague really caused by the rifts?"
"Yes. You've seen the faint blue mist around the corrupted regions, right? That's what spreads the disease. You could call it the breath of the Equidema."
"Oh, so that's why the soldiers fell ill," Belinda said, nodding in understanding.
Before deploying, the northern army had all been given medicine produced in Fenris. Although Belinda and the others had followed Ghislain's orders at the time, they only now fully understood the reason behind the preventative measures.
Ghislain continued, "Exactly. That's why I insisted on quarantining those areas. Sooner or later, anyone without mana manipulation would succumb to the illness, and it would spread like wildfire."
"The lords heard all of this and still chose to ignore it?"
"It's pure greed," Ghislain muttered coldly.
Even the lords who hadn't trusted his warnings had stockpiled medicinal ingredients.
Once Marquis Branford began mass-producing medicine, it was inevitable that the prices of those materials would skyrocket. The more astute lords had anticipated this and hoarded supplies.
They had been instructed to produce and distribute medicine within their territories to prepare for the plague. Yet even those who made the medicine refused to distribute it properly.
Ghislain's eyes grew sharp, a glint of menace reflecting in them.
"Too many lunatics think they can profit off human lives."
Their actions now posed a dire threat to the kingdom.
While the major armies and nobility had access to medicine, supplies were still grossly insufficient.
"Who's bought up the most materials nearby?" Ghislain asked.
"Just a moment," Belinda replied as she shuffled through documents she'd received from the royal court.
With Claude and Lowell away, Belinda had taken on the role of Ghislain's strategist. Her knack for organizing and analyzing information was extraordinary, to the point that even seasoned officers whispered in awe about her abilities.
Few knew that while espionage was Lowell's domain, it was Belinda who trained the kingdom's spies. She was, by all accounts, an enigmatic and resourceful woman.
"It's Count Grafton. He's been buying massive amounts recently."
"And his territory? The plague has spread there too, hasn't it?"
"Yes. But the medicine hasn't been distributed much, and his support for the afflicted is minimal. Only the count's family, close associates, and the forces near the castle seem untouched."
"He's a sharp one." Ghislain's lips curled into a thin line. "Let's pay him a visit first."
The northern army changed course immediately, setting out for Grafton's territory.
As they marched, Ghislain reviewed the reports on Count Grafton.
Grafton controlled a relatively large territory that had been fortunate enough to escape the reach of the rift's corruption. Thus, his military remained largely intact, save for a few units deployed for regional support.
The count was known for his sharp business acumen, having amassed a considerable fortune over the years.
"He's distributed a laughably small amount of medicine compared to how much he's stockpiled. He clearly plans to hoard it for profit, despite the royal decree promising compensation."
From the moment the royal court issued its mandate, Count Grafton had aggressively acquired materials. But the medicine he produced had only been distributed in major cities and near his castle.
The rest of the stock was undoubtedly being held for lucrative deals.
"Anyone willing to profit from human lives like this deserves to have it all taken by force."
Tenant, standing beside Ghislain, offered cautious advice.
"If the lords retaliate, they might sabotage us in more critical moments. They'll undoubtedly harbor resentment for years to come."
Tenant knew better than most how vengeful the nobility could be; he had lived and worked among them long enough.
"It doesn't matter," Ghislain replied firmly. "If we let this rot fester because we're afraid of retribution, the sickness will only spread."
In his past life, Ghislain had seen too many instances where selfishness led to collective ruin.
He couldn't control the entire continent, but at least in the Kingdom of Rutania, he refused to let such recklessness prevail. This kingdom held everything he wanted to protect.
As expected, Count Grafton was basking in self-congratulation.
"Hahaha! To think the plague would actually spread! I was skeptical, but look at this—it's all true! Fenris and Branford weren't exaggerating!"
One of his retainers, looking uneasy, spoke hesitantly.
"My lord, the royal court has prohibited all transactions involving medicinal ingredients. Are we truly safe to continue?"
"So what? They said not to sell the ingredients, but they didn't say anything about selling the medicine."
"T-That's true, but…"
The retainer wiped the sweat from his brow, deeply unsettled.
Grafton had been producing medicine ever since the first rifts appeared. He had predicted, quite accurately, that the spread of rifts would bring about a plague.
And now, his foresight had paid off perfectly.
The retainer stammered again.
"E-even if the medicine itself isn't banned, selling it openly might draw criticism—or worse, confiscation. With the current chaos caused by the plague…"
"Tsk, tsk, tsk! Why so timid? If we tread carefully, we can always sell it to foreign nations. They're in even worse straits than we are since they didn't prepare in advance like us."
"T-that's true…"
"Exactly! Why limit ourselves to the kingdom? The world is vast, and the demand for what we have will fetch us unimaginable wealth."
The retainer, though clearly worried, didn't argue further.
"I suppose we must prioritize the kingdom's safety—"
"Save it. Money is made in moments like these. Money doesn't care about sentiment. Do you think we could've secured this opportunity if I hadn't acted swiftly?"
The retainers fell silent.
Count Grafton was undeniably shrewd. He had moved faster than anyone else, securing a massive stockpile of materials.
Unfortunately, his cunning came hand in hand with a callous disregard for human life.
The retainer cautiously suggested, "Shouldn't we at least distribute enough medicine within the territory to contain the plague?"
"Of course. The soldiers and those near the castle have already received their share. Now, prioritize distribution to the areas that yield the highest taxes."
"Excuse me? Prioritize?"
"Yes. Forget the towns and villages that don't contribute much to our coffers."
"But they're still part of our territory! If they die, who will pay taxes in the future?"
"Tsk, think it through. The profit from selling this stock abroad will dwarf the taxes from those backwater places. Besides, population replenishes over time, and if we're short, we can always buy more people."
The retainers swallowed hard, unable to respond.
Count Grafton had already calculated his profits down to the last coin.
"L-Lord Grafton! The Commander of the Northern Army has arrived!"
The announcement sent the retainers into a panic.
Ghislain had arrived, unannounced, at Count Grafton's estate.