Chapter 12
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 012
Chapter Title: Reconstruction
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The fierce assault by the Hussites had come to an end with Sternberg's victory.
The serfs who had taken refuge inside the castle returned to their homes one by one, letting out sighs of relief.
But what awaited them upon their return were nothing but cold piles of ashes.
"Oh no, oh no! The house our family lived in our whole lives...!"
"It's all burned down! Where are we supposed to eat and sleep now?!"
The homesteads they had toiled over their entire lives lay collapsed, exposing only blackened frames, while the wheat fields meant to last until next year had burned completely black.
Only traces of pillage and arson remained in the wake of the Hussites' rampage. Wails of grief echoed here and there over the village reduced to ashes.
In this era, war and plunder were one and the same. Merely surviving with their lives was a stroke of immense fortune, but for those now staring down an uncertain path to survival, even that brought no solace.
It was right at that moment.
"People of Sternberg."
I stepped forward before the serfs and spoke.
"I know the pain you feel at losing your homes. But worry not. You are my people of Sternberg. Protecting and caring for you is my duty as your lord."
After going through this a few times, such words now came easily to me.
Was it because I had inherited Ulrich's memories? Or did Park Kang-jun possess some talent he never knew he had?
"Any man with the strength to fight will be welcomed as a soldier. I will personally feed and clothe you, train you into proper defenders of Sternberg. If you don't wish to become soldiers, that's fine too. Man, woman, child, or elder—work will be provided to all. We will reinforce the walls, clear away the ashes, and build a new village here."
My voice grew louder and louder.
"I promise you this! Under my rule, no one in this land will go hungry! I swear, in the name of Ulrich von Sternberg, that all who labor with their sweat will have bread and a place to sleep!"
A heavy silence descended over the ashes that had been filled with lamentations. Expressions of utter disbelief were plain on their faces.
In the common sense of peasants in this era, a lord was simply someone who collected taxes—nothing more. Merely letting them take shelter inside the castle would already earn praises of benevolence, let alone taking responsibility for their very livelihoods.
The serfs stood speechless for a long while. Before such an utterly unrealistic promise, they had even forgotten their sorrow, lost in a daze.
Then, an old man spoke up in a trembling voice.
"Truly... truly, you will give us work? Bread and a place to sleep?"
I nodded in response instead of words.
That short but weighty affirmation ignited the emotions of those mired in despair.
"Ahh... Ahhhh...!"
"Thank you...! Thank you, my lord!"
They embraced one another, knelt amid the ashes, and poured out praises for their young lord.
"Long live the lord!"
"Long live Lord Ulrich!"
"Glory to Sternberg!"
Right then, Janos grabbed my arm and pulled me aside in a panic. He drew me back so the serfs wouldn't hear and whispered urgently.
"My lord, are you in your right mind!?"
This guy dares to grab his lord's arm and drag him? Is this everyday etiquette in Hungary?
The thought crossed my mind briefly, but seeing Janos's face drained of color, it didn't seem so.
"What's the problem with me taking responsibility for my own people?"
"Where's the money for that, my lord! The silver His Majesty Sigismund bestowed is already running dry!"
Despite Janos's agitated question, I remained utterly calm. I replied in an even tone.
"Think about it, Janos. These people lost everything overnight. They have no shelter for the winter, no food to fill their bellies. Do you really think they'll quietly sweep up ashes in that state?"
"Well..."
"No. Desperate to avoid starving, they'll turn to banditry. And in the end, those blades will point back at me and my domain. Who do you think will bear that cost?"
Janos fell silent at the utterly pragmatic point.
"Better I take them in and put them to use. There's a mountain of work ahead anyway. Skimping on a few coins and letting valuable labor become bandits? Far better to spend a little and get them doing what I need."
"...Talk is cheap! 'A little'? Don't you know the treasury hasn't a single silver coin left?"
Janos shot back in exasperation, but I just grinned.
"Then we'll make some."
"Pardon?"
"The previous lord scraped together every bit of wealth, but he couldn't take the castle itself. Furniture from the manor, artwork, decorations—even the silverware you use. Gather everything of value in the castle and sell it off."
"Yes, my lord?! Everything?!"
Janos's face went pale with shock.
I pressed on regardless.
"By now, Kuttenberg must be in chaos with His Majesty Sigismund absent. Merchants desperate to flee the city will be itching to offload their goods at any price."
A sharp smile crept across my lips.
"We can't miss this chance. Sell our luxuries for top coin, and buy up their food and supplies at rock-bottom prices."
"...Me, my lord?"
I shrugged as if it were obvious.
"Who else in this castle can I trust but you? Konrad has to guard the keep, and Sir Kuno has no head for trade. You're the man for it."
Janos's expression went blank. He stared into space and murmured softly.
"...Should I take this as an honor, or mourn the hard road ahead?"
At that moment, Steward Konrad, who had been silently listening, stepped forward with a polite but firm voice.
"My lord. If I may be so bold, I must object."
"Konrad?"
"I fully support aiding the serfs. But selling off the castle's treasures?"
There was no trace of his usual composure in Konrad's voice—only raw emotion.
"Those are the history of House Sternberg, passed down like bloodlines, heirlooms of past lords. How can we casually sell such noble items to lowly merchants?!"
The desperate cry of an old retainer who had devoted his life to the house. His loyalty was beyond question.
But that was all it was.
"Did you say 'dignity,' Konrad?"
My finger pointed toward the ashen village and the serfs left stranded amid the ruins.
"Can you still talk of dignity after seeing them? My people are dying of cold and hunger. Is a lord's duty to cling to dusty family relics while they perish?"
"But my lord...!"
A feeble rebuttal escaped Konrad's lips.
"...They're not mere relics. The house's wealth is the lord's honor and prestige. I fear that if word spreads of this castle stripped bare like a ruin, other nobles will scorn you, denying you even the respect due a lord."
I shook my head lightly.
"Konrad. Do you think my claim to lordship comes from the king's recognition, other nobles' opinions, or this castle?"
"Well, of course..."
I shook my head again.
"No. It's because of them. It's those down there calling me their lord that makes me one."
"...!?"
I clearly saw Konrad's eyes widen. It was the face of a man whose lifelong convictions were crumbling from the roots.
A lord was the castle and lands themselves; the people mere appendages. That was the era's common sense. But I had just denied it outright.
I addressed the stunned old steward.
"I know what worries you—your loyalty to the house speaks for itself. But to me, those things are worth less than a sword or a loaf of bread."
"..."
"Sell them all. That's an order from your lord."
Konrad could object no further to the resolute command. His voice choked as he replied.
"...I shall obey, my lord."
Shock and an inexpressible shame mingled on the steward's face as he bowed deeply.
Janos, who had watched it all, followed behind me and asked cautiously.
"My lord, why go so far?"
"What do you mean?"
"I understand not letting the people turn to banditry. But do we really need to sell off the last of the house's pride and pour out everything?"
Janos shrugged, offering a pragmatic point.
"Just feeding and sheltering them lightly would have them grateful enough to follow you."
A practical, cynical observation. I stopped and turned to him.
"Janos. What broke the Hussites at the end of the last battle? The gunpowder bombs I made? Or Sir Kuno's sword?"
Faces that had filled the battlements flashed before my eyes. Recalling them, I stated firmly.
"No. It was them. The women pouring boiling water, the children hurling stones, the farmers hacking at the ankles of those clinging to the walls with rusty sickles. They were the true army that won us the victory."
I looked Janos straight in the eye and spoke from the heart, without a shred of pretense.
"I want my army fighting at their best. When they march to battle, I want them focusing solely on the enemy ahead, unburdened by worry for family left behind. To make that happen, I'd sell not just the gold in this castle, but the very stones of these walls if need be. That's a lord's duty."
No reply came. Janos simply gazed at me in silence.
"My lord..."
I could see countless thoughts flickering behind his cynical expression.
I finished speaking and turned my gaze to the battlefield. Cleanup came next—gathering the spoils.
The Wagenburg that had burned in the inferno was reduced to skeletal remains, and most of the enemies' weapons and armor had melted away, leaving little intact.
But my eyes saw a different scene entirely.
'Treasures scattered across the ground.'
I ordered Janos, who followed behind.
"Janos, gather men and collect every iron weapon or piece of armor. Pile them all in one place."
"Understood. Shall I have the blacksmith repair them?"
"No, melt them all down."
"Pardon? Melt them?"
It was quite enjoyable watching the shock bloom on Janos's face.
But his expression soon shifted. Doubt turned to curiosity, curiosity to anticipation.
"You're starting something again."
Janos now asked not with suspicion, but vague expectation. At his reaction, I flashed a mischievous grin.
"That's right. Call all the castle's craftsmen to my workshop. We're about to make something really fun."