Chapter 100
Chapter 100
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Territorial Inspection
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"Is this... all of them...?"
"Yes, my lord!"
At the Sergeant Major's words, I silently scanned these so-called soldiers. Not a single one looked remotely normal. One had nothing but a tattered gambeson draped over a worn-out spear for armament, while another wore a gap-toothed kettle hat upside down on his head.
"Just... explain to me... why my soldiers are in this state, Sergeant Major?"
This was my army? I wanted to scream on the spot, but yelling wouldn't solve anything. Keeping my calm, I spoke in a low voice, and the older Sergeant Major dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead to the ground.
"My lord! I'm sorry, but I've done my absolute best with the budget allotted to me!"
"I heard the army was allocated a budget too. Is this what an army looks like after spending that budget?"
But the Sergeant Major looked up at me with a wronged expression.
"Budgets and equipment did come in, but most of it went toward arming the Landsknechts! And all the decent men jumped ship to their side, so this was the best I could do!"
That explained why the castle guards were in such a sorry state. Even so, they must have maintained a minimum force until the subjugation force was mobilized—how had it deteriorated this much in the meantime?
"There must have been a budget specifically for regular soldiers. Did that get diverted too? Who ordered it?"
"Well..."
The Sergeant Major cautiously glanced aside. At the end of his gaze stood Cutter, frozen stiff.
"Cutter? Was it you? Did you redirect the budget meant for regular soldiers to the Landsknechts?"
For now, I personally helped the Sergeant Major—who had been prostrated on the floor—to his feet. The old man had done his best in his own way. It was just that the soldiers had flocked to the better-paid, better-equipped Landsknechts.
"Cutter. I'm asking you. Did you do it?"
"Yes."
Under my persistent questioning, Cutter's tightly shut mouth finally cracked open.
"Why? What possessed you?"
"I thought expanding the Landsknechts quickly would benefit the territory... The more of them we had, the more money they'd bring in, and the more cash circulating in the castle..."
He launched into a long-winded explanation of why he'd funneled even the regular soldiers' share into the Landsknechts.
"You weren't skimming off the top for yourself?"
As I eyed him suspiciously, Cutter offered his sword and threw himself flat on the ground. His upturned eyes brimmed with injustice.
"If I've pocketed even a single coin, strike off my head right here. Honestly, my lord... no, brother! It's thanks to you we've come this far—how could I do anything to harm you?"
By now, even the Landsknechts assigned as my escorts stepped up to defend him.
"He's right, my lord! The captain's not that kind of man! All he's got to his name is that little house in the castle where his family lives! The guy's always broke and bumming drinks off us!"
At those words, Cutter's face—full of righteous indignation just moments ago—turned gloomy. He grumbled in a sad tone.
"Appreciate it... but did you have to say that last part?"
If Cutter or the mercenaries were lying, they deserved to take up acting right then and there. Their eyes were steady as they pleaded their innocence to me.
"Tch... Still, privately redirecting the budget is a problem. Be more careful from now on."
Weakening my direct military force by diverting funds for personal reasons was an issue, but Cutter remained my top retainer. If anything, he was like Zhuge Liang or Guan Yu to my Liu Bei.
I couldn't doubt his loyalty, even if his tactical sense was lacking.
"First things first, we need to recruit soldiers. And get them new gear..."
Dwelling on the past wouldn't change it. Better to prepare for the future than regret what was done.
With territorial war on the horizon, my immediate priorities were two: recruit new soldiers and equip them. And right now, I had the funds to splash around.
"Gringem!"
"Yes, my lord."
"How much surplus budget do we have available?"
"About eighteen thousand pounds."
Eighteen thousand pounds at my fingertips. And that was just the surplus. Count Sarisa's war reparations had been thirty thousand after his defeat—this territory had achieved a completely different level of economic growth.
Anyway, what to do with eighteen thousand pounds? Training an elite soldier typically cost around ten pounds, so simple math said I could field 1,800 men. Or invest elsewhere to earn even more. But...
"Even if you recruit now, no one will enlist, my lord."
"Many villages still haven't recovered, and the last war left us short on young men..."
The real issue was the shortage of young men in the territory. What good were money and gear without people?
"Order the forges to produce gear for arming soldiers—at least enough for a thousand."
My words drew gasps and murmurs of surprise. Gringem spoke quietly.
"A thousand? That'll eat up a lot of budget. And we don't have the manpower anyway."
"Budget eight pounds per set and get them producing. It's a bulk order, so unit costs will drop. Recruitment... I'll handle that."
Mass production always lowered costs and improved quality, past or present. These weren't custom pieces but off-the-rack stuff—decent quality at a fair price. Still, it'd cost a hefty eight thousand pounds.
"And prepare for a territorial inspection."
With equipment funding sorted, I immediately decided on the tour. No matter how booming the castle was with merchants and mercenaries, the territory's foundation lay in its scattered villages.
Inspecting them and upgrading infrastructure—even in the long-neglected ones—would naturally draw migrants.
"Feels like the workload just keeps piling up..."
That was the vibe, but no helping it. Since I'd become lord, might as well play the territory-management game once.
As preparations for the inspection buzzed along, I racked my brain for useful tech or policies, but nothing concrete came to mind.
At best, something like Roman engineering? Paved roads would be nice, but that seemed beyond a single territory's scope...
"The procession is ready, my lord!"
Lost in thought, I realized preparations were done. Word of my inspection spread, drawing knights, my mercenary guards, servants, and maids—forming a proper entourage.
Castle folk, mercenaries, and merchants gathered with curious eyes.
"What's going on?"
"The lord's heading out on a territorial inspection?"
"Long live the lord!"
Still riding high from that last incident, people cheered and waved as I set out on what was just a casual tour. Those with spare coin bought flowers to shower the procession. A flower-girl ended up with an empty basket, grinning ear to ear as she shook it.
"Make way! The lord of the realm passes!"
"Blessings upon our merciful and valiant lord!"
"Lord! Bless my son, please!"
What I'd planned as a light outing turned into a full-blown wartime sendoff. The cheers followed us long after leaving the castle.
"My take? Folks in the castle would cheer even if you announced you'd grant them rustic rights from some old tale."
Cutter, watching it all up close, remarked as such.
"Oh! My lord!"
The village chief of the first stop rushed out, bowing low before me. His neat appearance screamed "chief"—most peasants couldn't afford such tidy garb.
Peasants typically had grimy, blackened hands, sun-darkened faces etched with wrinkles from toil, and shabby clothes. Serfs had it even worse.
"I hear you're short on young men these days."
The chief nodded at my words.
"That's right. The war took away our workers..."
"Hmm..."
I toured the village with the fidgety chief. The peasants' homes were far better than the sty I'd lived in as a serf.
Better, yes—but still filthy. The biggest issue: livestock and humans sharing space, waste dumped anywhere. No wonder infant mortality was sky-high.
In modern times, a minor cut treated with alcohol and ointment would heal—what killed kids here left survivors to starve and be buried.
"First order: rebuild the houses. Livestock need to live separate from humans."
Seeing is believing. Ideas that eluded me in theory sprang up on-site.
"Show me the well."
At my request, the chief looked embarrassed.
"Our village doesn't have a well..."
Not uncommon—digging wells wasn't easy, so many fetched from nearby streams. Such villages were drought magnets.
"On to the next."
Having gleaned improvements from the first village, I noted issues while visiting others.
Poor housing, nonexistent medical care, zero hygiene awareness. Those were the common threads. Housing could be fixed with cash; hygiene enforced with mandatory washing.
"Medical system's the real headache."
Doctors here? Nine out of ten were quacks. Finding a real one was near impossible.
"Head back for now."
Put out the urgent fires first. Having identified common problems, I opted to return. Or tried to—until the last village, where a village chief with a deeply aggrieved look knelt before me.