Chapter 10
Chapter 10
Territory Reconstruction Project (1)
As soon as the Visconti duke’s steel trade was legalized, I gathered the blacksmith guild’s craftsmen.
Specifically, those who barely had their names listed in the guild registry.
Normally, if you want to take over a guild, you would start by winning over its influential figures.
But there was a reason I deliberately chose this approach.
“Thank you all for gathering despite your busy schedules.”
As I spoke, all eyes turned toward me.
Judging by their expressions, they were far from pleased.
After all, they were backed by the Sforza duke—the enemy faction of the Visconti family I belonged to.
To them, I was essentially a messenger from the enemy.
And since we had infringed on their interests, hostility was only natural.
“I called you here today to have a productive discussion.”
Of course, none of them believed that.
Why would anyone trust an enemy’s envoy talking about “discussion”?
In truth, I had no intention of negotiating.
This was a conversation held with a sword in hand.
“Who is the representative here?”
A bearded man stepped forward.
“I run the largest workshop here. I’ve been a craftsman for about eighteen years.”
“Your name?”
“Jacri.”
“Good. From now on, you represent everyone here.”
Choosing a representative made things simpler.
Dealing with one person is easier than many.
“Let’s get straight to the point. As of yesterday, His Majesty Emperor Daniele of the Tuscan Empire has granted the Visconti duke the right to trade steel.”
It seemed this news hadn’t reached them yet.
They began whispering among themselves.
“So the monopoly is gone? Now we have to compete with that cheap steel?”
“Damn it, they’ll take over our entire domain soon.”
The guild survived because it monopolized everything—technology, production, and sales.
Once even one of those breaks, they cannot survive in a free market.
“With steel trade opened, your monopoly over tools, weapons, and armor will soon collapse as well.”
Jacri’s eyes widened.
That wasn’t even the worst part.
“And recently, a Visconti caravan carrying steel was attacked by bandits. His Grace believes the guild’s leadership orchestrated it.”
We had no concrete evidence.
No surveillance, no records.
In modern terms, it would be a perfect crime.
But this is a medieval world.
If the powerful accuse you, that is enough.
“Do you have proof we did it?”
Jacri seemed shaken.
“Proof? No. But the circumstances are sufficient. A proper investigation will begin.”
In this era, “proper investigation” means torture.
“Once the investigation ends, the guild’s upper members will confess. Do you think you’ll be spared?”
The duke wouldn’t necessarily kill them all.
But if the guild collapses, they become unemployed—and criminals by association.
“We are innocent! We’ll confess anything, just spare us!”
It seemed my persuasion worked.
“Then become the Visconti family’s dogs.”
“…Will we live if we do?”
I shook my head.
“You won’t just live—you’ll prosper. You will take over the workshops currently controlled by the guild leaders.”
These craftsmen were valuable assets.
Equivalent to highly educated engineers.
Wasting them would be foolish.
“Will you die, or will you serve?”
Jacri exchanged glances with the others.
They nodded.
“We will serve the duke.”
“Good. Remember that. Betrayal means death.”
I handed them two documents.
One accused the guild master of hiring bandits.
The other stated that this accusation was fabricated for profit.
The second would never be revealed.
But it ensured they knew their lives were in the duke’s hands.
“Now, report to the barracks.”
In this empire, soldiers handle law enforcement.
After reporting my task’s completion, I received an unexpected order:
Wear formal attire and report soon.
“Is the emperor going to reward me?”
**
I found myself in an unexpected situation.
“Fabio de Medici, step forward.”
I thought I would simply receive a commendation.
Instead, I stood before an assembly of nobles—barons, viscounts, even counts.
Then I was called to the stage.
Servants in ornate clothing stepped forward—
holding not just documents, but swords.
“His Grace Duke Giovanni Visconti approaches!”
Everyone stood.
Only then did I understand.
Ah… this is an investiture ceremony.
The duke began the formal oath.
I responded automatically.
Then he drew his sword and placed it on my shoulder.
“I, Giovanni Visconti, swear before all nobles and God. As long as Fabio de Medici remains loyal, I will never abandon him. In return, I grant him the village of Vio.”
Among knights, owning a village places one in the top tier.
In an instant, I had risen in status.
…And I understood the duke’s intent.
He wanted to pit me against my older brother Albert.
To drive us both to serve him.
These politicians are truly ruthless.
Then came the next order.
“Depart immediately and rebuild your territory.”
…This is insane.
**
The territory I received was worse than expected.
A coastal village devastated by famine and corrupt officials.
“Still… since it’s coastal, maybe I can build something new.”