Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Great Leap (7)
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The politics of a village chief ruling a village, a bailiff governing 1,000 to 2,000 people, a knight managing a large fief, and a baron who has built his own independent force all pursue entirely different ideals.
A village chief just needs to mingle with them like a big brother, leading by example a bit, and he'll hear cries of "the best."
A bailiff is expected to act like an authoritative teacher, mediating disputes between villages.
When village chiefs squabble over petty interests, he sometimes scolds them gently, sometimes sternly, until they reconcile.
At the same time, he must decide whether to discipline and reform those who break minor rules or send them to the knight overseeing the larger fief for proper punishment.
He also has to inspire "motivation" in the serfs—the students—to carry out the directives from the knight, who acts like the school principal.
The measure of their competence is their "ability to reconcile disputants and isolate troublemakers."
For a knight with a large fief, the role is to manage the bailiffs who represent the interests of the hundreds or thousands living in his domain.
Sometimes, he must bestow more grace than expected to win the people's heartfelt loyalty, and other times, mercilessly execute subordinates to establish order.
As administrators, their job boils down to "judging lazy freeloaders who take others' money and leaving the hardworking alone."
They must serve as impartial "judges, prosecutors, defense attorneys, and administrators all in one."
A baron performs the knight's role on a scale five to ten times larger, but as a politician, he bears the crucial duty of showing his citizens the path forward.
Once a baron, he must ponder how to direct his knights in defense, how to raise soldiers, and how to bring prosperity to his fief's many nobles and citizens.
Beyond that, when the fief faces crisis, he must sometimes take full responsibility and lead his forces into war to protect it.
He also controls final personnel decisions for all officials from village chief upward, assigning them according to status, rank, ability, and age.
Such men are expected to play the role of a "mayor" with strong local autonomy, like in our country.
Finally, a count does what barons do, but with two dramatically distinct additional roles.
The first is the "ability to endure suspicion" and delegate full authority over parts of an overly vast territory to capable subordinates.
Up to baron level, one can grasp all key personnel, military, and financial powers personally—assuming high competence—because handling a bit more work secures control over truly vital budgets and appointments.
But managing two million people across a territory 200 kilometers wide by 190 kilometers tall alone is impossible.
Even attempting it would bury you in paperwork like Philip II, leaving you too buried to respond to rebellion reports, etching your name in history as a fool.
He probably missed quelling that revolt because he was fussing over a monastery budget in some backwater village of a thousand souls.
A fine king overall, but missing the rebellion suppression window over petty paperwork? That's crossing the line...
Thus, an ideal sovereign—or at least one not failing—needs the ability to endure doubt and delegate, even if he can't fully trust subordinates.
Can't endure suspicion and overwork? You end up like Philip II. Delegate without caution? Like King Seonjo during the Imjin War.
No wonder tales say Admiral Yi Sun-sin stripped off his armor and took his own life because of Seonjo.
The second is the judgment to wage independent diplomacy as a fully sovereign state.
You might think a mere provincial governor-equivalent has no business with "diplomacy," but for nobles count-rank and above in this era, nations were like clubs you could switch if it suited you.
In fierce wars, Franch "prisoners" often fought for the Elrain Empire the day after surrendering.
Thus, counts and higher must have the judgment to maintain a diplomatically independent stance.
And today, to lay the foundation for exercising my first ability as a count, I summoned my father to the office.
Just as I finished drafting the "promotions from sergeant major to ensign, and captain and above" orders, Father burst through the door.
"So, how did negotiations with His Grace the Duke go?"
Normally, he'd knock during "official hours" and wait for permission, but with the fief's survival at stake, such formalities were forgotten.
Seeing him like that, I smiled brightly and said,
"A resounding success. We formed an equal alliance without ceding a single field from any fief, including Nant, Helsman, and Kroitel."
Hearing that, Father beamed, forgot decorum, grabbed my hand, and shook it.
"Siel, is that true? How did you secure such an alliance without yielding land to His Grace? I can't fathom it..."
As Father said, normally—even with clear justification—allowing a lord to seize a fief demands offering territory for tacit approval.
Like Japan, nibbling at our land during invasion, arbitrarily divvying concessions to powers like America, Britain, and Russia.
The Duke's second demand for Crescent Barony fit that pattern.
So, I replied with a smug expression,
"Our house has plenty of coin, doesn't it? I used that gold to persuade Count Calle of Franch, Count Romelia of Elrain, and the Marquis of Amiens to declare a siege. He backed off meekly."
"My son, you've got guts spilling out your belly. Daring to threaten His Grace in turn."
"Well, he offered his daughter for a marriage alliance and suggested I visit yearly to discuss Elrain's future."
Father's face twisted in disbelief, just as mine had when I first heard it from the Duke.
"Nominally, it's top-tier treatment—marrying a duke's daughter to a mere count—but underneath, it's a ploy to gradually make our house his vassal. A weak count might bite, but for us, contending for regional hegemony? Absurd."
"Over the line, right?"
"Still, he offered his daughter. Good we refused... Let's just call it an outrageous request. Anyway, we've declared to all Europa that we're strong enough to reject a duke's marriage alliance and still get his personal 'alliance' offer."
As Father said, depending on the spin, we've touted ourselves as powerful nobles who spurned a duke's match yet secured an alliance.
Intent aside, just receiving the proposal yields ample gain.
So, I smiled and replied,
"As expected of Father. I never imagined you'd think that deeply."
"No, I couldn't have forged an alliance without yielding land like you did. Anyway, what of the rewards distribution?"
At that, I handed Father the scroll outlining the merit rewards.
Moments later, he read it and said gravely,
"Granting Hyver Barony and ten surrounding villages to Frost, and Sercland Barony to Baldt— that's convincing. The rest of the allocations are generous yet reasonable. But..."
"Yes, Father?"
"Six baronies—lordships in their own right—lie vacant in Nant alone. Why?"
"We'll revive the sub-baron rank decreed by His Imperial Majesty Elrain's great-great-grandfather. Appoint capable inspectors from Kroitel or Nant to govern them. As direct fiefs, they'll get generous salaries instead of 'tax revenue rights,' and hereditary positions will be banned. Their heirs can hold the 'sub-baron' title but not govern in their stead."
This risks title inflation, but one ultimate goal is retaining titles while blocking hereditary power.
Considering this era's society, even if Father was a genius baron, barring a fool son from succeeding is massive progress.
Just look at high school Korean history: comparing Goryeo and Joseon, one of Joseon's greatness was abolishing noble status inheritance via the "recommendation system."
Father pondered long, then said,
"When sub-baronies were created, the decree allowed only title inheritance, not positions like 'general' or 'mayor.' We can justify it that way. But they're nobles too, entitled to pass devotion's rewards to heirs. How to address that?"
"For the eldest son of one who serves ten years or dies dutifully, a pension equal to sub-baron pay."
"Titles pass only to eldest anyway, and it's a provisional rank above knight. Sufficient. So, where will you reside? Your seat becomes the capital."
Hearing that, I declared to Father with a smile,
"Per the Duke's accord, after minimal wrap-up, I'll head straight to Blueport to govern Kroitel Barony. You go to Helsman County. For Nant, Frost as top baron, advised by Baldt. We'll fill admin shortages with 'commoner-origin Administrative Academy graduates.'"
"Will many come to an unstable new county from the Academy? They'd prefer Medici or Cosimo Guild executive posts."
"Our fiefs have Ensign Mark and Lieutenant Short—serf-born, quasi-nobles. Frost's son earned fief and title through merit."
Father nodded.
"Further, I've recognized Chris Belladora's abilities as quasi-noble. Her talent will surely reach knighthood. Seeing that, Academy grads won't shun the 'noble ladder.'"
It's also keeping a woman who could slightly undermine my position close, under protection.
Doesn't a lesser colleague's success at work spark "If that hack can, why not me?" and drive challenge?
Especially here: seeing a "woman"—barred from bureaucracy—succeed on merit will lure those proud Academy men: "Come here, and I can reach that level too."
This is "overlooking the bell to gather the congregation," right?
Like China's wise rulers appointing seemingly inept outsiders as premiers to draw true generals and statesmen.
Father chuckled,
"That Chris girl is as good as married off—no, with you keeping her close lately, by the time she overcomes womanly limits for a knighthood, she might become your concubine. I've one wife; my son gathers mistresses before a proper bride. Father is disappointed."
"Nonsense, Father."
Objectively, what I did to Chris was brutal...
Forced her—first kill—with a dull axe executioners dread, then tossed among men, protecting just enough not to die, since she wished it.
All while saying, "I trust your abilities; ignore being a woman, grit through with sheer malice..."
No way she'd want to be my concubine.
"And why Blueport? It's a trade hub, but not for a 'viscount'-level me to govern or develop over Nant, Kroitel, or Helsman."
I smiled and answered,
"I'll develop my Kroitel County thus: affluent, tech hub Nant; trade-origin city Kroitel; prosperous southern fortress Helsman; and... 'Blueport, hegemon of northern trade.'"
Then I handed Father all handover documents and authority papers, and departed for Blueport with Ella, Chris, and Frost's battalion.
To forge Nant County into a superpower sustaining 100,000 standing troops in a year, if things go right.