Chapter 28: I’ve Become Strong (4)
Chapter 28: I’ve Become Strong (4)
For any human being, the most important thing is securing the essentials: food, clothing, and shelter.
Food, in particular, had always been one of the chronic problems plaguing the Schneider Barony.
Because the territory bordered the Great Forest—a literal paradise for monsters—arable farmland was extremely scarce. It was simply impossible to feed all the residents with the food produced within the estate.
Consequently, the people had to risk their lives entering the forest to hunt small animals or gather wild berries. They also foraged for medicinal herbs and mushrooms whenever they spotted them to build up their winter stores.
Even so, the food situation never truly improved.
Every year, as winter set in, people in the Schneider Barony inevitably froze or starved to death. This happened despite Baron Schneider collecting significantly lower taxes compared to other territories.
This winter, however, promised to be different.
The food Patrick had purchased with the money earned in Parmas was being distributed evenly among the people. Although the Schneider Barony was a small territory with a total population of fewer than five thousand, there wasn't a lord anywhere else who provided food rations to every single one of his subjects.
"Truly, we owe all of this to the Lord and the Young Master."
"We always knew the Lord was a kind and benevolent man. But the Young Master... he’s got the talent to match his heart."
"You can say that again. Didn't he wipe out all the monsters around the estate? And then he went to Parmas and brought back a fortune. He’s a remarkable person."
"Who would look at him and think he’s only ten years old?"
"My son is twenty now, and I’d be happy if he was even a fraction as capable as the Young Master."
"Hey, don't get greedy. Is our Young Master an ordinary person?"
"Hahaha. I suppose you're right."
Thus, Patrick’s popularity among the commoners soared to the heavens.
He had already gained immense popularity when he cleared the surrounding monsters to ensure their safety, but by solving the food crisis, he had been elevated to an object of absolute worship.
At this point, if Patrick were to declare the Schneider Barony an independent nation, the people would likely follow him without hesitation. That was how much everyone respected and looked up to him.
Well, of course, there were a few exceptions.
* * *
"Woooooooooow. Look at you lot. Just look at you."
Patrick’s sarcasm was exceptionally drawn out.
And in front of the long-winded, sarcastic Patrick, two hundred of the territory’s soldiers were all planting their heads on the ground in a collective punishment stance.
"You dared to slack off during training? You? Slacked off? On training?"
Every time Patrick spat out a word, the soldiers’ bodies trembled. And then...
"I’m pretty sure I told you to practice your footwork while I was gone. Are you ignoring my orders? Do I look like a joke to you? Huh? Am I a joke?"
The reason for Patrick’s fury was simple.
He had gathered the soldiers at the training ground to check their progress with the Five Elements Step, and the results were far below his expectations.
After seeing Samson use it against a Troll, Patrick had thought, I guess they did some training. He had even been debating whether or not to give them a tiny bit of praise. Naturally, his blood was boiling now.
"Have you all lost your minds?! If you're going to half-ass your training, just quit! You bastards! No, just die! Just die! If you don't die on your own, I'll beat you to death right now!"
Watching Patrick fly into a rage, the soldiers momentarily thought, Knowing that demon, he might actually do it.
At that moment, one soldier bravely decided to resolve the situation. He stood up, raised his hand high, and spoke to Patrick.
"Young Master."
"What? Soldier A."
"It’s Oliver, sir."
"So what? What about it?"
To Patrick’s irritable retort, Oliver spoke cautiously.
"You are mistaken, Young Master."
"Mistaken?"
"Yes. It’s not that we didn't practice the steps. We practiced every single day for the allotted time and amount."
"Ho? Is that so?"
"Yes. It’s just that the results didn't turn out as well as you hoped."
"Ah, really? So you're saying you worked hard, but the results just didn't show?"
"That is correct."
"So, even if the results are pathetic, I should recognize the value of your effort? Is that what you're saying?"
"Exactly. Young Mas—Guh-ack!"
Oliver’s desperate attempt to clear up the "misunderstanding" was rendered void by a single kick from Patrick that exploded against his face.
If anything, it had the opposite effect. Patrick’s eyes flashed with killing intent as he glared at the other soldiers.
"You lot are really putting on a show. You call that an excuse? You rotten bastards!"
Seeing Patrick look as if someone had poured oil on his fire, the other soldiers thought in unison:
That idiot Oliver and his excuses.
If I die today, it’s because of that bastard.
If I survive, I’m sewing Oliver’s mouth shut first.
Patrick literally hopped with rage as he shouted.
"You idiots! If there are no results, do you call that training? That’s just killing time!"
The soldiers flinched.
"I bet while I was gone, you lot just half-assed the footwork and spent your time swinging swords, didn't you?"
Even more soldiers flinched.
"And yet you say you worked hard? I’m mistaken? The value of effooooort!?"
The soldiers were now practically shrinking into themselves. Every word Patrick spoke lashed their consciences like a whip.
"Heh... Hehehe... Fine. I was the fool. I was the fool for thinking you’d follow along if I just used words."
Before they knew it, Patrick was holding two wooden swords. And then...
"Everyone, up!"
The soldiers scrambled to their feet.
Patrick announced:
"From now on, it’s time for the 'practical training' you all love so much."
When did we ever say we loved it?
When?!
The soldiers’ protests never made it out of their mouths. Instead, a terrifying sentence began to flow from Patrick’s lips.
"From now on, I’m going to beat you. If you use the footwork properly, you can dodge. If you can't, you get hit. Simple, right?"
"Pardon? Sir?"
"We’re doing this until you get it right. Now then..."
"Wait a moment, Young Master."
"It’s... it’s time for our patrol. Time for patrol!"
"It’s time for a joyful beating! You bastards!"
That entire day, the training ground of the Schneider Barony echoed with the sorrowful screams of soldiers and curses directed at Patrick.
This was the only place in the entire territory where anyone harbored resentment toward him.
* * *
Patrick’s daily life passed by busily.
Having received several official administrative rights from Baron Schneider, Patrick moved energetically in various directions.
First, he overhauled the commerce.
"From now on, all goods for the territory are to be purchased through the Red Merchant Group."
The Red Merchant Group was one of the legitimate businesses operated by the Thieves' Guild. They promised to supply external goods at low prices and purchase materials produced within the territory.
Furthermore, by having them visit the Schneider Barony periodically, Patrick could obtain information from the outside world.
"Understood, Young Master. But are they trustworthy?"
"Trustworthy?"
Patrick smirked.
How could one trust the sons of thieves? However...
"It’ll be fine. They won't pull any petty tricks unless they want to die."
"Yes. I understand."
Lawrence didn't quite get it, but since Patrick said it, he decided to trust and follow unconditionally.
Then Patrick added, "Lawrence, don't do everything yourself. Delegate the work. It would be good to leave some tasks to Chandler."
"He is still young and lacks experience. Will it be alright?"
"It’s fine. He seemed bright enough."
"Hohoho, it seems he’s caught your eye."
"Well, a little..."
Patrick cleared his throat and continued.
"Anyway, don't overwork yourself. Eat well, sleep well, and take strict care of your health. Don't work more than six hours a day. Got it?"
"Hohoho. Understood. Since you're looking after me like this, I suppose I’ll live a very long life."
"Please do. The thought of running this place without you makes my head spin."
At Patrick’s words, Lawrence simply gave a warm, fatherly smile. Seeing the old butler, who had been loyal to the estate his whole life, wearing a "I know how you really feel" expression made Patrick feel awkward, so he changed the subject.
"How are the children we’re sheltering?"
"We’ve hired several women from the village to look after them. The children in good health are adapting quickly."
"That’s good. When the doctors arrive, have them check the kids and the other residents as well."
Calling in doctors cost more money than expected. Patrick’s calculation was to get his money’s worth once they were there.
Lawrence chuckled and replied, "Yes, sir. Oh! And there are some residents who wish to adopt a few of the children. Shall we proceed immediately?"
"No. You can't rush the process of becoming a family like that."
Patrick refused firmly.
Even if an adult found a child cute, taking responsibility and becoming a parent was a different matter entirely. If handled poorly, a change of heart after taking the child home could lead to abuse or labor exploitation.
The Schneider Barony was a kind-hearted rural estate, so the possibility was low, but one could never be too sure.
"Take it slow and let the children and parents get to know each other. Have them stay over for a few days and then return to the shelter, repeating that process several times."
"A sort of trial period, then."
"Yeah. If both the child and the parents still feel good about it after that, then let it proceed. Take at least a month and move slowly."
"Yes. I understand."
Listening to Patrick’s instructions, Lawrence thought with a proud smile:
No matter what he says, the Young Master is truly the Baron’s son.
Taking care of children who didn't bring in a cent of profit was bound to be expensive. Yet, seeing him handle the matter so cautiously despite the loss, one couldn't deny that the blood of a good man like Baron Schneider flowed through Patrick’s veins...
"Well, it’s time for my patrol, so I’m off. Hehehe. Those monster bastards are all dead!"
"..."
Then again, there was a high possibility he was a mutant.
* * *
After finishing his business with Lawrence, Patrick conducted a patrol of the territory’s surroundings.
While things had been quiet for a while during his last merchant trip, a Troll had eventually caused a ruckus. This meant that unless the perimeter was cleaned periodically, the safety of the residents couldn't be guaranteed.
Thus, patrols had to be regular. The only thing that had changed from before was...
"Let’s go, boys."
"Yes, Young Master!"
Behind Patrick followed several soldiers, including Samson.
Previously, Patrick had roamed the outskirts with only Brian, but now about ten soldiers followed in his wake.
Starting tomorrow, you lot are coming with me on the outer perimeter patrols.
The ones Patrick had selected were those whose progress with the Five Elements Step was relatively decent. He had judged that they could at least look after themselves, so he decided to take them along. Of course...
The youngest one was too slow when he had to skin the hides and carry the luggage all by himself. This worked out well.
For now, their role as porters was greater than their role as combatants. However, they would eventually have to become a proper force—knights who could protect the territory. To achieve that, they needed some level of practical experience starting now.
Though...
"Yo... Young Master! It’s a War Wolf!"
"Yeah. I know. Go for it!"
"Aaaagh! Young Master!"
"Look forward! Forward! It hurts if you get bitten."
"You son of a—!"
The standard for that "level of practical experience" was strictly centered around Patrick’s whims.