Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Landsknecht
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"There's no one in the world quite like our lord."
"Damn right! What noble would ever share food like this?"
"Weren't you just saying all nobles were the same not long ago?"
On Kyle's orders, massive quantities of oats and barley were distributed throughout the village. The territory's residents in the castle received free oat porridge and barley porridge. It was barely seasoned with salt, but saving even the cost of bread was a huge boon. And on top of that...
"They say he even sold off furniture to buy grain."
"My daughter's working as a maid for the lord, and she says the mansion and castle are practically empty."
These heartwarming tales, spread from the mouths of nobles and the servants and maids working in the mansion and castle, circulated like wildfire. Even Harding, who'd returned from the mansion, got drunk at the tavern and blared it out like a gramophone.
"I thought he was just frugal, but who knew he'd sell it all to feed the people! If a lord like him had been in my old territory, I'd still be farming there!"
This unprecedented welfare benefit earned Kyle praise not just from ordinary territory folk, but even from the retired soldiers. While those who'd received their porridge ate it alongside bits of cheese or vegetable stew they'd brought from home, soldiers came running up to them.
"The lord is coming! Everyone, line up properly!"
Kyle's procession. The soldiers who'd rushed over tried to impose order on the chaotic, hectic distribution site, but it only backfired. The territory folk, scattered about and eating their meals, rose from their spots with beaming faces.
"The lord?"
"Our lord?"
"Lord!"
They abandoned their food and erupted in cheers all at once. The territory's savior! The merciful ruler!
"Long live the lord!"
"Please, just hold my child's hand once!"
They say you buy stocks at their lowest. With nothing but oats and barley, Kyle had purchased their faith and loyalty. Had the territory folk been living their normal lives, it would have been impossible. At best, he'd have gotten a few thank-yous from the poorest.
The results were far better than expected, and Kyle wanted to grin from ear to ear, but he barely held it back. Keep that poker face... poker face. Even his stern, impassive demeanor only fueled the territory folk—who were already smitten—with even more fervent cheers.
"Quiet."
The single word Kyle tossed out as he stood before them silenced the cheers like magic. But their eyes gleamed with hope and reverence.
In their minds, they wondered what this merciful lord might say to them, or why such an exalted figure had come down personally. Not everyone thought that, of course. Kyle quietly regarded those territory folk before finally speaking.
"The distributions end this winter. I've sold everything I have, but the territory's coffers are bone-dry now. And whose fault is that?"
What was the lord suddenly talking about? They leaned in to listen.
"You're starving now because of the crooks who siphoned off taxes in the middle. Not because of the war. It's the thieves skulking right here in this territory."
At Kyle's gesture, the soldiers dragged forward the men they'd brought along in advance.
"Lord! We're innocent!"
"Mercy, just once!"
They were the tax collectors. With Kyle's permission, Gringem—who managed the territory's budget—had ransacked their homes. Great or small, their embezzlement was quickly exposed. Tax collectors lining their pockets was par for the course... but they had to do it in moderation.
These bastards had jacked up the village taxes and stuffed their own faces. Kyle planned to purge every last one of them this time.
Stripped of every last coin they had, they were hauled out here and begged Kyle for forgiveness. Or else dared to threaten the lord himself.
"Spare our lives!"
"Who'll collect taxes if not us?"
But Kyle didn't so much as blink. Their brazen attitude only stoked the territory folk's rage. The soldiers recited their crimes.
"Nelson! Embezzled 10 pounds, 4 crowns! Jerry! Embezzled 8 pounds, 2 crowns, 8 shillings!"
"Kill those bastards!"
"Filthy dogs!"
Deal with the embezzlers and pad the territory budget with the seized funds. Wasn't that true two birds with one stone? Kyle marveled at his own idea. For new tax collectors, just teach basic math to some sharp locals and appoint them.
He planned to tie these ones up and rotate them through the villages. They'd bought so much hate that their odds of surviving a full village tour were slimmer than throwing them into a battlefield and having them come back alive.
"Kill them!"
"Boo!"
As the soldiers dragged them away, the furious territory folk pelted the tax collectors with stones. With the corrupt tax collectors handled, next up: the retired soldiers. Kyle ordered his men to summon only the retired ones.
"Is this everyone?"
"Yes, sir!"
All the retired soldiers had gathered in the castle's barracks. Over a hundred crammed into the not-so-spacious space made it extremely crowded, but before their lord, they kept their mouths shut. And according to the fellow ex-comrade who'd summoned them, this was about jobs. They didn't know what kind, but...
The merciful lord who'd emptied his personal coffers to buy grain for the territory folk wouldn't ask the impossible. That was why they'd come. Kyle spoke.
"Sarisa Count abandoned you."
The blunt opener left the soldiers staring in confusion. Insulting a fellow noble?
"Of course, I can't hire you all right now, either."
The follow-up turned their confusion to disappointment. Fair enough—no lord could conjure jobs out of thin air. But thanks to Kyle's past benevolence, they just nodded in acceptance. However, he wasn't done.
"What do you want?"
"Jobs!"
"We want to work! Cut our pay if you have to...!"
They even offered pay cuts, but their lord shook his head.
"I'll give you new jobs. Not as soldiers. But ones that make use of all the training you've had."
Not soldiers, but using their training. The soldiers eyed him curiously—what job could that be?—and Kyle answered while looking at them.
"I'm forming a mercenary company."
Mercenaries? Confusion rippled through the soldiers' eyes. They knew their lord was a former mercenary, but now he was a noble. A noble starting a merc company? They'd never heard of such a thing.
"Sounds like nonsense, huh?"
"No, sir!"
The soldiers denied it in unison, but Kyle knew it wasn't sincere. He began laying out his plan to the doubtful men. The mercenary company formation plan.
'Sounds legit.'
That was the soldiers' take after hearing him out. What they'd first thought was a joke from their lord rang surprisingly plausible.
For starters, partner with the caravan-heavy Cligrove for direct contracts between the company and caravans, handling hires on a dispatch basis. And the company would be led by Kyle's escort captain, making it half the lord's personal force.
Mercenaries in name only—just hiring them as soldiers, right? But there were downsides for them.
First: no fleeing battle—fight to the end. Second: 20% of pay deducted as territory tax. Third: no taking personal contracts without company permission. Despite those drawbacks, most soldiers jumped at the chance to join the company, hands shooting up.
All survivors of two battlefields, they feared not combat or death, but their starving families. In the end, 105 soldiers signed on. One asked,
"What's the company's name, my lord?"
Kyle answered without hesitation. He'd prepared it in advance.
"Landsknecht."
The most famous mercenaries from Germany, personally founded by the emperor. The company called strongest alongside the Swiss was now born in this world.
Clop-clop-clop.
That very evening, as the mercenary company was born, the thunder of hooves announced an ominous procession arriving before Lucas Castle. At least a hundred soldiers, with knights on horseback encircling a carriage. The soldier on the ramparts hurriedly reported to Baron George.
"At this hour..."
Baron George, roused from sleep at home, scowled but didn't shirk his duty. A procession over a hundred strong naturally required the guard captain's presence.
With a weary face, Baron George peered down from the ramparts and bellowed,
"Who goes there!"
This time, he truly didn't know. It was too dark to see. But the response from below made his eyes widen.
"This is the representative of the great and rightful ruler of Cligrove County, Cligrove Count's envoy and liege to Viscount Lucas Kyle—the Lady of Cligrove! Who dares bar her exalted path!"
His lord, Viscount Lucas. And Viscount Lucas's own liege, Cligrove's lady, come in person. Still, Baron George didn't open the gates right away. Circumstances fit, but what if...
"I'm Baron George, guard captain of Lucas territory! Pardon, but... do you have proof you're from Cligrove?"
Fwoosh!
In that instant, torches illuminated the carriage. The Cligrove family crest shone clearly atop it. And the soldiers bore Lenia's commander banner. Proof that erased all doubt—Baron George flung the gates open in haste.
Creeeak.
Lenia's carriage entered the castle grounds... and word of her arrival reached Kyle, who was sitting in his office at just that moment.
"The lady's here?"
"Yes! She's outside right now!"
Did she come after reading the letter? Kyle was startled by her sudden visit. He'd sent a request for aid, but there was no need for her to come personally. He hurriedly donned his armor and dashed to the gates.
"My liege!"
His eyes caught Lenia's carriage. And right at the front, Edward too.
"Long time no see, Viscount Lucas."
"Edward... not a baron anymore, eh."
Casual address. But Edward gave a cold smile.
"Baron no more—viscount now. I've inherited the title."
Viscount Norton had been shoved aside by Edward. And his brothers had all entered monasteries. Not willingly, of course. Unaware of this, Kyle nodded with a subtle expression.
"I... see. Congratulations, Viscount Edward."