Preparations Proceed Steadily
Preparations proceeded steadily. Dorbi's abilities exceeded expectations. He'd claimed to have scouted out a merchant guild and negotiated a contract, but I knew that was just the tip of the iceberg. It didn't matter. As long as he did his job well.
The worst problem with the territory wasn't its finances or its size. It was the fact that, among the remaining residents, there was scarcely any proper labor force. Most were elderly or infirm folk who had nowhere to go if they left the territory. Even then, their numbers barely topped a hundred. The territory's workforce was effectively zero.
That left us no choice but to secure at least a minimal labor force from here. My clone number one hadn't arrived in the capital yet, so I decided to tackle what I could without him first.
"Jayke, today we're visiting the orphanages."
"Yes, my lord."
The easiest way to acquire labor would be buying slaves, but the Ether Empire made slave trading incredibly complicated. Even as a prince, Ether had despised the practice. After becoming emperor, he'd tried to abolish it outright but faced too much backlash, so he'd settled for making the process labyrinthine and slapping on heavy taxes instead. That had sparked a minor trend of adopting orphanage kids, raising and training them as laborers—but since they were commoners at heart, most learned a trade as adults and left, leaving the trend to fizzle out.
Even without recent wars, the orphanages overflowed with kids dumped for one reason or another. I didn't need prodigies. Of course, exceptional talent was a bonus, but my criteria were simple: good-hearted children, and extra points if they had gifts.
I took in the older ones who were willing to come along. Humans overflowing with talent don't just roll around like pebbles on the street... wait, apparently they do?
At the third orphanage, I found a boy with an extraordinary soul. He looked about my age. I approached and extended my hand.
"Become my subordinate."
It was half in jest, but the boy grabbed my hand firmly and squeezed. Strong grip. But I'm upper knight-class; no kid, no matter how strong, was a match for me—it was like a shrimp challenging a whale. He twisted and strained until his face turned beet red, but when I didn't even flinch, he let go with a huff.
"Argin... that's me."
"Germain Francois. Argin, come with me. What do you want?"
"I want to get stronger."
Argin's eyes burned with intensity. Not many kids that age could muster a gaze like that.
"The knight behind me is Sir Jayke Halendrahal. He's on the cusp of advanced knight rank. He'll be your master. That work for you?"
Argin's eyes darted between me and Jayke, trembling before settling. He bowed his head.
"I'll follow you."
"Jayke, train Argin well. He's got real talent."
"I live only to obey, my lord."
Jayke never wasted words—pure, loyal knight through and through. Finding talent like this was sheer luck. I took about twenty kids in total. Of course, it wasn't straightforward. Handing kids over willy-nilly would make it no different from a slave market.
Just as things got tricky, Dorbi showed up from handling guild business, and everything smoothed over. Who could argue with a vouch from an imperial official?
Among the kids I brought back, some had solid talent, others were average. But getting picked by me meant they were lucky, at least.
Before leaving, I rented out an entire inn to feed and house them. I had Dorbi procure clothes for the kids and distribute them too.
Next up: laborers and mercenaries. Laborers for rebuilding the lord's manor—viscount or not, the current Akasha viscount was holed up in what amounted to a village headman's shack. Mercenaries to escort the laborers and kids to the territory, then handle security there for a while. Long-term contracts.
Jacques's parting curse came true.
"Hey, young master!"
I'd barely stepped into the mercenary office when Jacques waved from the corner, mid-card game.
A vet like him would be reassuring company.
"What'd I tell ya? We'd meet again."
But this rubbed me the wrong way. Felt like I'd lost a bet.
"No other jobs in the meantime?"
"Plenty of work, but after a long gig, you gotta rest. Was just thinking of getting back out there."
"How about another long-term stint? Say, two years?"
Jacques's face twisted oddly. Felt a bit better.
"Might see some fighting. Not that I'd prefer it."
"Hmph. Then I'm in. Heh heh heh."
Jacques secured. Mood was still weird, though.
"Might not see any fights at all."
"You know what, young master?"
"What?"
"You reek of blood."
Our faces twisted for entirely different reasons. Anyway, I hired thirty mercenaries. Everyone but Jacques on one-year deals; he got two for his cheek.
No one on par with Jayke at this guild. Dorbi handled the laborer and material transport contracts. That required legwork—designing buildings, matching materials and artisans. Not easy.
Everything solvable with money was handled. My subspatial vault took a serious hit.
A few days later, clone number one finally arrived. Number two was tailing the territory's security chief and administrator, who'd left to greet me. My retainers wouldn't arrive for a few more days.
For now, I'd spent a fortune but recouped plenty. Money sources were more abundant than expected. Back-alley gangs, black marketeers, corrupt nobles—number one collected daily, and we made back more than we'd spent.
I wrote two letters and had number one deliver them to the emperor. No more going through Yuri; the emperor was reasonable enough for direct contact.
Truth be told, I suspected he wanted me in the Akasha family. Pretty much certain, actually. From what Dorbi said, House Illibard—marquesses—weren't exactly imperial loyalists, and they'd ballooned in power lately. Me taking over Akasha and just maintaining the status quo would let the emperor funnel support under the "guardian spirit's heir" pretext, planting a dagger at Illibard's throat.
Hence attaching talent like Dorbi. Not sure if that made him a great ruler, but that scheming blood from his father the king still ran strong. I had no intention of taking imperial aid—or fighting Illibard for them. If it came to blows, I'd win somehow.
A few days later, Akasha's security chief and administrator arrived looking for me. After perfunctory introductions, they met Jayke and Dorbi behind me—and looked distinctly uncomfortable.
"I'm Jayke Halendrahal, in service to Young Master Germain."
Jayke screamed competence at a glance. The new armor I'd bought him only enhanced it.
"Dorbi Agellahim, fifth-grade imperial treasury official and junior baron. By imperial order, I'm assisting Young Master Germain."
Dorbi eyed them like a cat sizing up prey. I didn't bother hiding my grin.
Jayke they could stomach, but Dorbi rattled them hard. From that moment, they knew their plans were derailed. Too late to back out now.
"W-well, let's handle the most urgent matter first."
"Urgent matter?"
I feigned ignorance, and the administrator sighed before answering.
"We must register Young Master Germain's entry into House Akasha. Even applying now takes considerable time."
He explained diligently, but I hadn't asked out of ignorance.
"Ah, I've already prepared that. Just needs the viscount's seal. Head back to the territory, get his approval, and we're good."
Dorbi pulled out the completed paperwork from a corner.
Letters to the emperor had primed things; Dorbi had handled the rest.
"I see. Splendid."
The administrator beamed, fishing the Akasha seal—a ring—from his inner pocket.
Parading a comatose lord's seal like that? Illegal. High treason, really. I'd known he carried it. That's why I'd set this up.
Their schemes were in shambles partly from my prep, but mostly from years of unchecked abuse—they didn't even realize what they were doing wrong.
As Dorbi opened his mouth, I tugged his sleeve to signal silence. He caught on, nodding with a sly smile.
He'd known the viscount was a vegetable—imperial intel isn't sloppy. But carrying the seal in his pocket? Unforeseen.
The administrator smugly stamped the documents with resounding thwacks, then handed them to Dorbi, who pocketed them and dashed out to file.
"You've served House Akasha long, haven't you, Administrator? Security Chief?"
"Ahem! Indeed. We've devoted our lives to it."
With Dorbi gone, the administrator puffed up.
"Your sons must live in Akasha territory, then?"
"No, no. My boy's so clever, he's studying at the Illibard marquessate academy. Top of his class."
"Mine take after me—sword prodigies at the capital's swordsmanship academy."
First the administrator, then the chief. Neither seemed the talented type, but they bloviated about their kids anyway. I got all the intel I wanted.
Where else to stash embezzled funds but with the kids?
"Impressive focus on education. Hope they become pillars of Akasha territory someday."
My bright smile must've looked idiotic; they smirked knowingly.
Number one was already en route to the capital's sword academy for the chief's brats. As we chatted and I milked more info, Dorbi returned. Their mouths snapped shut.
"All papers approved. Young Master Germain, you're now officially Viscount Germain Akasha."
Dorbi handed me the emperor-stamped documents. I showed them off to the retainers before stowing them in my subspatial vault right in front of them.
"H-how'd it process so fast?"
"More importantly, are you a high mage, young master?"
Different reactions, but both stunned.
"People have their innate vessel. Try filling it beyond capacity, and it shatters. Gotta be this strong just to hold House Akasha together, right?"
The administrator's and security chief's faces began to curdle.