Lord of the Territory (3)
Temporary office of the provisional steward. Staying up all night crafting golems was so commonplace that it barely registered anymore. He'd handled his duties as lord for the day and now sat lost in thought late into the night.
Truth be told, he had little interest in managing the territory. The Cyclops was now entering production, one unit at a time, with plans to gradually roll them out. The Knight was complete, too, and strategies were in place to sell them far and wide. On top of that, everyone around him was offering plenty of help and advice. Mina handled not just funding but mobilized her merchant guild to plot golem sales routes. Erica acted as a relay station through Phoenix County, serving as both customer and powerful backer. Noel provided counsel on territory management and politics. Then there were folks like Professor Rodellini offering technical expertise, or Professor Reina crafting manuals to help the existing knight orders gradually adapt to golems. So many people were pitching in.
In a way, people were gathering around the golems, offering their support—and the world was gearing up to change accordingly. Hell, he could probably say something that arrogant without batting an eye.
Honestly, he'd been thrilled by it all, deeply satisfied, and even more driven to push forward. That's why those words nagged at him now.
"I'm not taking the lead on anything..."
Mina, Erica, and Noel had all found Daniel's remark outrageously rude. Erica, who'd recommended him in the first place, had dragged Sir Galred back for another apology. Mina had gone so far as to suggest kicking the guests out entirely. If Noel hadn't mediated—pointing out that it made some sense given how the Abatus family had screwed her over—they might've seen Mina charging in with a Caterpillar Golem to bulldoze the lot.
And for him? Bluntly put, it hit a massive blind spot—one worth reflecting on.
"I have been too complacent."
That unpleasant chat with Cardio came to mind. Back then, he'd acknowledged golems as weapons of war but framed them as tools wielded by people—a conclusion he'd shared. Looking back, though... he'd only thought about creating that power. He hadn't acted with any real sense of responsibility.
Sure, Daniel had begged for a job, then turned around demanding to test things himself while dumping everything on the womenfolk and questioning his initiative. Objectively, etiquette-wise, it was way out of line. But a cool-headed look revealed its importance.
"I've built them, spread them... but shirked any real accountability?"
If someone viewed his situation harshly, that was precisely Daniel's gaze: a lord dragged around by noble ladies, doing nothing proactive. Sure, Mina, Erica, and Noel always deferred final decisions to him—he held the authority. But coldly speaking, had he stepped up with responsibility while they moved?
That realization sparked not anger, but self-reproach for his carelessness.
And once that sank in, another thought followed.
"Even if I made the golems, if I'm branded unreliable, no one will acknowledge them."
Sad but true—earning recognition meant constantly proving yourself, trapped in that endless cycle. Sure, everyone accepted the golems now... or so he could claim. But the Abatus family still lurked, waiting for an opening, and plenty hadn't fully embraced them yet. The current goodwill stemmed from royal endorsement and the mighty Phoenix family's backing. In essence, a gap in hard-earned social trust.
His position was barely out of diapers; it wouldn't surpass theirs overnight. But if he kept fixating on creation while dodging responsibility for maintenance and proliferation... the backlash would be severe.
"That can't happen. No way."
Hell, he could pay the price himself—no big deal. But he couldn't stomach his golems—inherited from a great soul's legacy—being dismissed and buried. He had to shield what he loved from his own failings.
I can't keep brushing this off as 'not my problem' forever.
In a stratified world where he'd even snagged a title, cold realism was key. For the things he cherished, he had to step up.
Of course, the path ahead looked daunting.
"Problem is, I don't know enough to dream big..."
Naturally, the education fit for a lord had gone to Mark, not him. He'd clawed his way up solo, so he was at a disadvantage there. His "common sense" already clashed with local norms, earning him flak for being clueless. Reading and writing were fine, but beyond that... yeah, he'd been negligent.
In the end, he needed to learn if he wanted any real insight.
"...Education?"
Something clicked.
****
Deep into the night.
Noel was certain Aizen hadn't slept yet. She levitated the dish with magic as she moved. Floating her own frail body guzzled mana and stamina, but lifting light objects was a breeze. Without it, walking would've been a chore—the corridors were lantern-lit dimness at this hour, and she needed her cane anyway.
"Will Aizen be all right?"
She'd confidently assured the disguised king, but that stemmed from faith in Aizen's capabilities—not that it'd be easy for him. Strictly speaking, Aizen wasn't the old Arclight heir; he was just blood-related. The family head had accepted him, but proper grooming had gone solely to Mark—a known fact.
Thus, Aizen lacked the knowledge he should've absorbed young for territory management, and his common sense diverged sharply. It hadn't mattered before, with no spotlight on him. But now? It'd become ammunition—political fodder, traps laid by opportunists.
"I was careless."
Helping with territory affairs, she'd over-accommodated his background, regretting inwardly that she should've pushed him to learn on the job. She'd understood his situation and bent over backward—only for Daniel (Danimus in disguise) to spotlight how it could paint Aizen as passive. Her support from the main house might even backfire.
Of course, Noel hated anyone undervaluing him like that.
"...Even Mina and Erica seem to accept it as valid criticism now that they've cooled off."
The two had raged hard, but calmer heads recognized the point. Mina, especially fiery, was now formalizing processes—documents for Aizen's direct approval. Unbeknownst to them, things were unfolding per Daniel's intent. Dodging a royal beating from enraged Phoenix knights felt like dumb luck, Noel mused, glancing at the dessert.
"Good call asking for the preservation magic tool."
Her face softened unconsciously at the cake atop the dish. A sweet tooth she restrained, but this was handpicked. A late-night gift for the hardworking Aizen—and an excuse to offer advice.
Reaching the provisional steward's temporary office, Noel knocked gently.
"Aizen, it's me. May I come in?"
No reply.
But she knew he might be too focused—or already asleep. She eased the door open, hand steady from familiarity.
"How deep in the zone must you be..."
She'd planned a light tease about the late hour, a smile ready. Then her eyes hit the documents on his desk, and words failed her.
"...Aizen?"
"Hm? Oh, Noel."
Head snapping up, clearly engrossed. She approached cautiously.
"These... you didn't..."
"Yeah. Policies I can take the lead on."
Noel scrutinized the papers. Territory defense plans. Something called "catapult"—ominous, unclear. Hygiene initiatives. All sorts.
Undeniably Aizen's brainchildren.
A bit rough around the edges, some overly ambitious... but considering his upbringing, this is him wringing out every idea he has.
Worth praising for the effort, she smiled—then paused on one document.
"...Basic education plan?"
"Yeah. Well, it's basically cribbing admin I already know, so not exactly original genius or anything. But education's the result of countless trial-and-error over ages, so it popped up first—"
Aizen's face flashed oh crap, but Noel didn't pry. His golems already screamed "recreation of prior knowledge"—she'd clocked it long ago and let it slide.
Whatever the source, he was still Aizen.
"So, this plan means...?"
"Just hit me how much I haven't learned."
His tone cautious, echoing that slip-up. Quietly:
"Figured starting kids young on reading, writing, basics—ramping up gradually—would pay off big later."
His soft words filled the office.
Noel reviewed the plan, nodding gently.
"Excellent, Aizen."
Her warm smile drew his gaze aside shyly. Then, scanning further:
"But in the curriculum... golem crafting basics, factory work experience, golem piloting, colosseum trials, test pilot training. Are these essential?"
"Why? What's wrong."
Aizen met her eyes squarely.
"This is my territory."
His face beamed pure innocence, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.