Chapter 166
Chapter 166
"The lord has arrived."
With the knight's announcement, the grand hall doors swung open, revealing two red-haired, red-eyed father and son walking side by side.
"Huh? Grand Prince? Didn't the lord say he wouldn't assign any work to the Grand Prince for a week and that anyone who disturbed him would be personally dealt with—... Ah. My apologies."
Henderson, oblivious to the atmosphere, blurted out loudly before clamping his mouth shut under Patrick's sharp glare.
As the retainers gathered one by one, watching from all sides, the two lords took their seats side by side at the head of the hall.
"Let us begin the first official council of House MacLaine as a marquisate," Patrick declared.
Logan immediately stood up.
"With the war concluded and our house elevated in rank, I've heard there have been numerous changes, both major and minor. Let's discuss each issue one by one and find solutions. Who would like to speak first?"
At his words, Dwain was the first to raise his hand.
"As I mentioned before, above all else, we need to replenish our administrative personnel. We must recruit more officials under the family's name."
"I did hear about that, but why is there such a shortage? Didn't we inherit most of Vifros's administrators? Aside from the high-ranking ones."
"...You instructed us to screen them thoroughly, my lord. We excluded anyone involved in corruption or connected to the Vifros family, which left us critically short-staffed."
"Ah..."
Logan could only nod in understanding.
If excluding corrupt officials and Vifros affiliates resulted in a shortage, there wasn't much else to say.
"Understood. Does anyone else have concerns?"
As Logan scanned the room, Clayton unexpectedly stepped forward.
"I've made progress on the research you commissioned, Grand Prince. But it requires additional funding."
"Oh—!"
At the mention of "commissioned research," Logan's eyes lit up.
But Clayton wasn't finished.
"And, though it's embarrassing to say this myself, my growing reputation has attracted wandering mages and aspiring apprentices to the tower. But this has become something of a problem."
"...Isn't that a good thing?"
Clayton, now recognized as a Golem Master after ascending to the rank of archmage, was drawing mages to their tower. Shouldn't that be an opportunity to take on new disciples? What was the issue?
"Well... True talent in magic is exceedingly rare, but most of those who come are mediocre at best. As for the wandering mages, many were expelled from their previous towers or schools due to misconduct. We need help filtering them out and identifying those with genuine potential."
"Hmm. What kind of support do you need, exactly?"
"It's embarrassing to ask, but..."
"Master Clayton, you are a treasure of our territory. Whatever you—"
"Money would solve most of it."
"Ah..."
...That was embarrassing.
Perhaps misinterpreting Logan's expression, Clayton hastily added,
"I mean, we need funds for barrier spells to secure the tower, artifacts or magic circles to assess children's talents, and—"
Sensing the skeptical looks around him, he quickly pivoted.
"Most importantly! The research you entrusted to me requires an enormous amount of rare metals for experiments."
He presented an issue that couldn't be ignored.
The revival of the Golem Tower was directly tied to the strength of the MacLaine territory.
That alone made it an urgent priority—but Logan had another reason.
'Crowne's research... We must see this through.'
In his past life, this research had enhanced the Imperial Knights' combat effectiveness by twenty percent.
If possible, he had to replicate it.
With a small sigh, Logan nodded.
"Very well. That issue is noted. Any other concerns?"
As if waiting for his turn, Hamar, the head of the workshop, spoke up immediately.
"The workshop is also short on hands. You ordered us to mass-produce repeating crossbows for nationwide distribution, but without more craftsmen, we're stretched to the limit. To do this properly, we need at least three times our current workforce."
"Three times?!"
"Yes. And that's the bare minimum—by our dwarven standards."
"Ugh. Can't we... reduce that a bit?"
"That is the reduced estimate, my lord."
Hamar's request, too, boiled down to a need for funds.
Logan couldn't help but sigh again.
"Alright, understood. Any other issues?"
"For knight-related matters, let Viscount Heinckel speak."
Patrick emphasized the title subtly while nodding toward Heinckel, seated below the dais.
"Given my current condition, it may not be appropriate for me to oversee knightly affairs."
His wrinkles and white hair had multiplied.
Though his expression remained composed as he stroked the wooden-and-metal prosthetic replacing his right arm, the others couldn't help but pity him.
After the royal commendations, Heinckel, Clayton, and Ronian—having distinguished themselves in battle—were granted the title of viscount under Patrick's recommendation, with hereditary rights.
In contrast, Victor, Ellen, and the top ten knights of the 1st to 10th squads (excluding Ronian), along with instructor Kaisolon, were all awarded baronies—a rank lower.
But even that reward seemed insufficient to compensate for the loss suffered by a high-ranking knight who had lost his arm and Force.
Naturally, Patrick's expression grew complicated as he looked at him.
"...Very well, I'll speak plainly. With the northern Calia region incorporated into our territory, most of the former Calia Knights chose to remain under our jurisdiction."
"Most of them?"
Surprised, Logan pressed for clarification.
"I thought you'd be pleased—more knights joining us?"
"Our surviving knight count stands at 112. Meanwhile, 201 Calia Knights have defected to us."
"Hah... Marquess Wycken Calia must be furious."
"On the contrary. He practically pushed them out the door."
"...What?"
"Marquess—no, Count Wycken Calia reportedly told them it was better to spread their wings under MacLaine's rising influence than remain in Calia under surveillance and restrictions. Even Knight-Captain Jorge joined us."
"Wait—a top-tier knight?!"
"Exactly. Which makes this even more complicated."
Logan immediately grasped the issue.
Wycken Calia's decision was unexpected, but since the king—the knights' supreme liege—had officially placed the region under MacLaine rule, their defection wasn't inherently strange.
However, integrating a force nearly double their existing numbers—including a top-tier knight—would be challenging, even if they pledged loyalty.
And more importantly—
"Deciding whether to teach them our Iron Blood Sword Technique—now symbolic of our house—is another dilemma. Treating them equally might slight our original knights, but showing favoritism could cause future strife."
"...Wasn't 'They'll warm up eventually' your motto, Father?"
"Even that has its limits. Especially now, when circumstances have changed so drastically."
The chaotic era of successive territorial wars and national division had ended.
The methods of managing knights during peacetime had to differ from wartime.
Logan exhaled and surveyed the room.
"Any other matters?"
Seeing no further issues raised, he turned his attention back to Dwain.
"Then let's start with Administrator Dwain's staffing problem. Posting recruitment notices isn't difficult, but how many do we need, exactly?"
"We have twenty castles but fewer administrators. The former Vifros officials are managing some areas, but due to wartime disruptions, many others are being run by village chiefs through consensus. If this continues, territorial administration will collapse."
The severity of the situation left everyone grim-faced.
"It's that dire?"
"Even with myself and the capital administrators working day and night without rest, we're barely handling the towns of Silvan, Tesron, and MacLaine Castle."
And yet you found time to drink and celebrate during the festival?
Logan swallowed the remark before it left his throat.
There was no point dredging up the past in such a critical situation.
"So how many more do we need?"
"At least thirty experienced administrators ready for immediate deployment."
"Thirty? Will that suffice?"
"...For now, yes. But truthfully..."
Encouraged by Logan's engagement, Dwain cautiously added,
"Sending newly recruited administrators directly as castellans would be unwise. We should first assign trusted individuals to stabilize each region."
A heavy silence fell.
Administrators and knights alike fixed their eyes on Logan and Patrick.
Acting as a castellan—a lord's proxy—was an immense honor.
As Dwain said, appointing untested administrators to such positions would be foolish.
Counting the two towns as castles, MacLaine now governed twenty strongholds.
Even excluding MacLaine Town, nineteen prestigious positions now glittered in the retainers' minds.
"Agreed. We'll select respected retainers who've proven themselves and appoint them as castellans."
"Yes. That would be best."
Dwain's eager response betrayed his own ambitions.
Noticing this, Logan stifled a chuckle.
"Father?"
"Fine. Since the candidates are all present, we might as well decide now."
At Patrick's words, the retainers' eyes gleamed with anticipation.
"Then, Dwain, start by recommending candidates."
The bearded administrator's face flushed crimson.
"Can I... volunteer myself?"
"Ah, of course you must remain here as chief administrator. You're exempt."
"What?! Why?!"
"How could I send you away when I value you so dearly?"
"Ugh... Damn it."
"Just focus on recommending others."
As Dwain sulked exaggeratedly, an unexpected voice chimed in from the back.
"Even with recommendations, we should establish at least one criterion."
"Damian? Oh? Go on."
Encouraged by the positive response, the former intelligence chief of the independence army (in Logan's past life) spoke up eagerly.
"For the newly annexed regions—Calia and Taren—I suggest appointing active high-ranking knights as castellans."
"Knights?"
"Yes. Historically, newly incorporated territories naturally develop local factions, especially if they were once hostile. Issues like lax discipline among soldiers often arise."
"Ah. So?"
"Having a knight—preferably mid-rank or higher—as castellan would curb such problems. Even if we send separate administrators for day-to-day affairs."
"...An excellent suggestion. We'll proceed accordingly."
"Thank you!"
Damian clenched his fists in excitement.
Logan clicked his tongue inwardly at the sight.
Damian Nadal—the "Evil Brain" of his past life—delighted over having a personnel suggestion accepted.
'The dissonance with his past self is too stark. I should find him a role that suits his talents soon.'
A new concern arose, but territorial matters took precedence.
"Then, using Damian's input as reference, let's finalize the castellans. Everyone, propose candidates freely!"
Hands shot up instantly from all directions.
"I recommend Rugel Hais!"
"Feran Doyle would be—"
"Former Vifros administrator Lord Reactor—"
Castellan. Master of a castle.
Though technically a lord's proxy, unless they opposed their liege, no noble within the castle could disregard their authority.
Moreover, in this era, a competent castellan could hold the position for life—even pass it down through generations.
It was practically a quasi-nobility title.
Naturally, the competition among retainers was fierce.
"I recommend High Knight Dygrom!"
"Lord Enrique would—"
'Our house has grown this much...'
Just three and a half years ago, MacLaine had only one modest fortress.
Now, their influence spanned territories.
A proud smile tugged at Logan's lips—until he met his father's gaze, sharing the same sentiment.
A wordless understanding passed between them.
Perhaps feeling guilty for interrupting his rest earlier, Patrick mouthed:
'This is all thanks to you.'
And with that, he gave a thumbs-up.
Four hours later, the castellans and administrators for all nineteen castles had been decided.