Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Path to a Rich Country and Strong Army (1)
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One time, a tsundere senior from our department who endlessly trashed alternate history and territory management novels but still read them to the end shared this story with us.
"The protagonists in those stories live such easy lives. Fine, I get how a high school kid or college student might introduce something like the Bessemer process. But how does food production go up and the population just explodes without any issues? How do they always get the same results?"
"But isn't that what happened historically? After Britain adopted four-field crop rotation, they surpassed France's food production, earned the title of the world's breadbasket, and got a massive population boost."
At that, the grad student senior smacked me on the head and said,
"You're only seeing the good side that came from increased food production. Back then, food was basically the cornerstone currency. It wasn't that simple. Sure, better production tech was great. But it turned just as many serfs into unemployed vagrants. If you only need one serf to produce the 100 kilos that used to take ten, employers just cut back on labor. Those folks ended up as exploited workers in the Industrial Revolution."
"Yes, sir..."
"But in those territory management novels, what happens when you ramp up surplus food production without any machines to put those people to work?"
"Unemployment skyrockets, so they turn into bandits or criminals. Even if the excess food just rots unsold..."
Sure enough, now that our territory had massively boosted food production, we were swimming in surplus grain.
Of course, nobles couldn't just instantly fire serfs protected by customary law.
Still, the serfs' value had likely plummeted compared to before.
And to prevent that, we needed groups that would consume a lot of food...
In the end, the answer was expanding the military.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A few weeks after taking over as Lord of Kroitel, one day.
As usual, after waking up in the morning, changing clothes with Ella's help, and heading to the office, Baldt spotted me and hurried over.
"Oh, Baldt. What's up?"
"Yes, Young Mas—er, Excellency. The mercenaries you ordered assembled have finally arrived."
"Let's go see them."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Entering the training grounds outside Kroitel Barony's castle—surrounded by a rickety wooden fence—I saw about a hundred mercenaries standing at sharp attention.
They carried weapons like long spears, crossbows, swords and shields, maces, and axes. Though it was just breastplates, they wore iron armor.
Helmut's mercenaries had shown up in mismatched armor at first glance, so these ones looked a bit more uniform by comparison.
As Helmut, now beside me, pretended not to notice my gaze sweeping over the mercenaries, I extended a hand in greeting to the one who stood out as captain—feathers sprouting from his helmet alone.
The mercenary bellowed in a voice that could shatter eardrums.
"It is an honor to meet the renowned Baron Excellency of Kroitel! I am Weiss, captain of the Red Bear Mercenary Company. The men behind me are all members of my company."
"Thank you for coming."
"Mercenaries go where the contract calls. In return, honor your commitment to us!"
I gripped Weiss's hand firmly and said,
"As promised, I'll hire you all for life. No— if you wish, I'll even give you a chance to become knights someday."
Weiss's eyes went wide as saucers.
Not surprising. In this era, 'knight' wasn't just a job—it was a status, a privilege.
Even captured knight-prisoners in war got rations fit for nobles, polite treatment, the works.
"R-Really?"
I chuckled and replied to Weiss.
"Not right now with eyes on us, but someday. And if you're hired for life—or rather, join our territory outright—you'll have a steady income for a better life than now. Don't believe me? Hey, Helmut!"
"Yes, Excellency."
"You're ex-mercenary, right? Have you ever seen me break a promise?"
Helmut glanced between Weiss and me, then grinned.
"Hasn't he already made me a knight? Just need to get married now and it'll be perfect."
Weiss stared at Helmut in shock.
"So, what would you like me to do?"
"I pledge my loyalty. From this moment, my mercenary company belongs to Baron Excellency of Kroitel!"
"Looking forward to working with you."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ My name is Zack. I'm the third son of a serf in Kroitel Barony, with no inheritance to my name.
At least doing odd jobs for Knight Hans, the village lord, and slaving away on the demesne farm kept starvation at bay...
But life was still miserable.
All we got daily was two bowls of watery barley-wheat porridge—no meat, no bread. In winter, not even that.
Some fools fell for promises of food, women, and booze, turning bandit—only to get caught by barony soldiers in a week or month, heads on pikes.
But now, thanks to the lords introducing some four-field rotation method...
We've gotten rich, so now we get two or three bowls of thick barley porridge daily. Though no guarantee it'll get better...
No, being full every day is something.
Still, other serfs I grew up with are thriving lately.
Max, who plowed fields with me, brags his family eats bread daily now, not porridge...
What about me...?
"Hey, Zack! What're you doing? Work! Don't want your porridge??"
"No, sir! No, soldier sir!!"
"Work!!"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ After a full day of labor, payday finally came, so I headed to the village market.
Time for beer and rye bread after ages...
"Come on, buy some cheese from Hamburg! One kilo of cheese gets you a free kilo of bread!"
"How about salt-pickled fish? Slap it in bread... it's sweet. So sweet!"
"Hot stew? This eternally simmering stew is half a copper coin today only!!"
The market came every two weeks, buzzing with energy as always.
Merchants hawking cheese, bread, pickled fish...
We used to only sell stew from scraps 'cause no one had food. Now everyone's eating well.
Yet here I am, this age, no marriage like others, just a beer on payday as my big splurge...
Suddenly feeling pathetic, I sighed.
"Hah, what am I doing at my age...? Next-door Jackson's married with two kids... I'm just a serf's third son scraping by... No, tonight I'll hit the brothel..."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ I entered my usual haunt, 'Serf's Rest' inn.
It's where lowlifes like me gather for cheap beer, rye bread, or occasional pickled fish.
Sit at rickety oak-barrel chairs and splintery plank tables for a moment's rest and maximum luxury.
Meat smells were rare here, but entering, pork scent wafted.
Must be thanks to Young Master—no, now Baron Excellency of Kroitel's reforms making life better for all.
Suppressing envy, I raised a hand to call the waitress.
She hurried over.
"What can I get you?"
"Beer, rye bread, pickled fish."
"Yes, one moment."
Soon, she brought the beer—brown-yellow foam bubbling—split rye loaf stuffed full, and salty fish...
My once-a-month ultimate luxury, only possible 'cause Young Master boosted yields with new farming...
Before, just stew here...
Hah, no point dwelling.
I put fish on rye, bit in, chased with beer.
Nutty saltiness covered by rich rye, then beer's bitterness cleanses...
This must be heaven's taste. That's why priests say Deus allows beer.
And the beer—more barley than before—barley flavor so intense...
"Hah... this is the stuff."
After thirty minutes savoring my monthly treat, heading out as the tavern door swung open.
In walked a man in flashy black-blue clothes—not knight-shiny, but ornate.
He grinned at the waitress and said,
"Beer for all these gentlemen, and bring out the reserved roast pork."
"Um... we actually roasted a whole pig already..."
The man, face full of bravado, replied,
"No way! If leftovers, business suffers... Fine, I'll buy it all. Hey, you lot! Got a good story—call your friends. Some of you clear space for pork sharing: dump those cheap tables and barrels!"
Instantly, most men rushed out for friends. I helped shove barrels and tables aside.
An hour later, the place packed.
The man grinned and spoke.
"Want a chance to restart your lives? Join the army. I'm Sergeant Heinz, serving Baron Excellency of Kroitel. Not a soldier—a sergeant. Rack up merits like me, and you'll get here. My pay lets you live like knights. Chicken whole birds on the family table every three—no, five days! Plus bread and meat!"
We men gawked at the self-proclaimed sergeant.
"It's real. Why would I lie and come here? Misusing the Baron's name gets you stoned. Real deal. Even if not my level, serve seven years, get land. Save pay, leave as free farmer. Who's in?"
I doubted my ears.
Serfs drafted got no pay, no rewards unless beheading knights or captains.
Army famed for skimpy rations—forcing you to buy food with your own coin...
Seven years for land? Sounds like a scam...
Snorting, I said,
"Sergeant, cut the crap. Our Baron Excellency's great, but not that generous..."
Heinz smirked, flashing an order stamped with the Baron's seal and signet before my eyes.
Any illiterate here would recognize Kroitel Barony's seal...
Proof this sergeant's executing the Baron's orders...
"You idiots! Baron Excellency's personally offering you dimwits enlistment to save your lives! Heard of Knight Helmut, ex-mercenary legend of our territory? He'll give land for real! Proof: pork and booze aplenty. And under each mug... your signing bonus, one gold coin. Enlist, drink, take gold."
...
If this really changes my life—no more scorn, endure seven years, become free farmer, marry, live envy-free...
Can't get lower anyway, right?
I drained my beer first, snatched the gold.
"Fine, Sergeant! I'm in!"
"And the rest of you?"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ That day, Baron of Kroitel gained a hundred soldiers from the poor.
Reading the report, I smiled.
"As expected. Booze and atmosphere have worked wonders since ancient times..."