Founding the Order (2)

At last, my two closest companions had accepted their posts among the order's officers. Thalia would serve as Vice-Commander, and Vitten as commander of the First Squad. With a Master-rank powerhouse seated in the vice-commander's chair, the order was beginning to cut a respectable figure. Even so, a great many posts remained to be filled.

And it wasn't only the posts. The site itself was a problem.

The so-called yolk of the fortress city, where the roads ran straight and broad, temples and schools stood close at hand, parks abounded, and the government offices were never far away, was priced high enough to make a man's eyes pop out of his head. Yet moving out to the outskirts would cost us face. And face aside, the real fighting would break out inside the city walls. Park the headquarters in some mountain valley and see how quickly we responded then.

I was still racking my brains over the site when Lucian came to me with a prime piece of intelligence.

"As it happens, a suitable property has just come on the market. It belongs to Count Billoi, a mansion in name only, large enough to pass for a palace. It sits not far from your own palace, my lord, and offers swift access to every quarter of the fortress city."

"How much?"

"Five and a half million barts."

That was no joke. Five and a half million was nearly double the knight order's entire annual budget.

"If you wish it, I can provide the funds myself."

"Five and a half million is a fortune even for you."

"It is. Too much of my capital sits tied up, so raising that sum would mean going cap in hand to the banks."

"Knights aren't in the business of making money; they're in the business of eating it. You're telling me that whatever you sink into me, you'll never see again."

Lucian's smile turned sly.

"You want the strength to drive out your brothers, and I want the crows pecking at my wheat fields gone. Our interests happen to point the same way."

"Good. Let's put a contract to paper."

Lucian tipped his chin at his attendant, who took a fresh sheet and began filling in the blanks with smooth, practiced penmanship.

"I have one more business proposal for you."

"I was about to make one of my own, as it happens."

"Please, speak first."

"No, you first."

"...As you wish."

Lucian set down his pen. I took the contract from him and began to look it over.

"A brutal famine has taken hold of the County of Abaro of late. Refugees have been streaming into the fortress city because of it."

"And?"

"I thought we might run a charity in your name. Handing out grain, raising temporary shelters, distributing clothing, creating work, that sort of thing."

I stared at him, nonplussed.

"Why are you looking at me like that all of a sudden? I'll admit I'm handsome, but still."

"I was wondering whether you were really the man they used to call a demon who knew nothing but money."

"Think nothing of it. Raise your reputation even a little, and people will buy one more item from my trading house, and the knight order will gain one more applicant. Won't they?"

"...There's the man I knew."

I was all for the charity myself. In my past life, poverty had been the reason I was thrown out of my home in the end. However worthless a son I might have been, no one sells their own flesh and blood for a handful of coins and sleeps easy afterward. If anything, this world had it worse. Here, famine, plague, and war didn't torment the common folk alone; monsters joined in for good measure.

"Good works in my name suit me fine, but didn't you just finish telling me your trading house has no money to spare?"

"A trading house overflowing with idle reserves isn't doing business properly."

So that was how it worked. Well, I trusted he'd manage. The man was insufferably good at everything.

"And what is your proposal, my lord?"

"Here. Take these."

I drew a thick bundle of talismans from my coat and set it on the table.

"A gift. I couldn't take five and a half million off you and just wipe my mouth clean, could I?"

"If my guess is right, these are the goods you put on the market back when you were disguised as a merchant."

"They are. Accessories that cure overflow."

Lucian's eyes lit up as he examined them.

The Qi-Unbinding Talisman. It helped govern the runaway energy of those who had fallen into qi deviation, but the price was steep: anyone whose life it saved would never wield martial arts again. Then again, falling into qi deviation already meant one's channels had ruptured so badly that simply staying alive was a struggle. Calling the loss of the martial arts a "penalty" hardly seemed fair.

"What would you call an item like this?"

"A talisman."

Lucian lifted a single talisman with care.

"In the five years since you vanished, my lord, these... talismans have come to command whatever price their owners care to name."

"Have they?"

"Yes. Your time in the trade was far too brief, and Solitas's blessing can do nothing for overflow. If these return to the market after five years, the wave they raise will be enormous."

"That was rather the point."

At my faint smile, he said, "These aren't gifts given purely out of the kindness of your heart, then."

The merchant's insight showed through.

"Exactly. All ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you need to do is let word spread that the 'Young Saint' has returned."

Lucian's eyes flashed once more. This time the gleam was bright enough to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blind.

"...You truly do devise the most entertaining schemes."

Laughing outright, he tucked the talismans away inside his coat.

With Lucian's help, the property was secured. Count Billoi was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a man who had never once made the acquaintance of frugality, and his mansion boasted a scale that yielded nothing to my own palace. Better still, unlike a certain palace I could name, its gardens had kept their shape, which might just rekindle hope in my gardeners, grown listless now that their workload had dwindled.

The task of converting the place into the order's headquarters went to Lily. She took personal command of procuring new goods, scrubbing the halls, overseeing the renovations, and hiring attendants.

Meanwhile, I summoned a printer and a contractor to discuss how best to spread word of the recruitment. The printer had obtained the notice's text from a writer of considerable fame and submitted it to me.

"..."

I looked at the notice, then at the middle-aged printer, then back at the notice. The jowled man was watching me with a face full of expectation.

"This is what you got from the writer?"

"Yes. He's the most celebrated biographer in the fortress city, so busy you couldn't hire him with a sack of gold. But when he heard it would serve Your Highness, he offered his pen without hesitation."

"I'm grateful for that, but..."

I pointed to the bottom of the notice, to the passage about honor.

"I have never once said anything of the sort."

The printer clasped his hands together as he replied.

"That is what a biographer does, Your Highness. We polish your everyday words just a little, so that your heroic character shines through."

Just a little wasn't the half of it. He'd gone and built an entirely different man.

"Fine. I'm sure the writer knew his craft."

"Indeed. I guarantee that once this notice is posted, heroes eager to serve you will come flocking like clouds."

If so, nothing could suit me better. Ever since we'd bought the property, the reports said, Ravenshade's mischief had grown several times worse.

The Feast of Saint Boros, the appointed day for the interviews, lay twenty-eight days off. I had set the date generously: by then the headquarters' interior renovation would be more or less finished, and talented souls from even the remotest villages would have time enough to make the journey.

Between the two tradesmen, the notice spread to every last corner of the duchy. Wherever five or more people lived together, up it went.

Just how many would come for me?

I'd heard that when Chris raised his own banner for the Raven Knights, the line of applicants stretched all the way to the city gate.

While we waited for the crowds to gather, I sat down with my officers to settle the shape of the interviews.

"Judging the relative strength of Awoken Abilities is what matters most," Thalia said. "For a nature-type Awoken like you, my lord, the judgment is easy. Far more often, though, an ability defies a quick read."

"For instance?"

"One of my classmates bore an ability that nullified any strike aimed at the left half of his body. While people remained ignorant of its nature, they took him for invincible. The moment it was exposed, opponents hammered his right side without mercy, and he washed out of his promotion exam."

"Still beats having no ability at all."

"Another classmate could blind an opponent for a single second, once a day. In a fight where life and death hang on a knife's edge, one second is an eternity, so he passed his promotion exam."

"...They say there's even a man out there who can turn ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into a dog."

Vitten, silent until now, finally opened his mouth.

"You can't so much as grip a sword with paws. Why would an ability like that even exist? He's not some mascot. What use is turning into a dog in a knight order?"

Vitten still hadn't crawled out from under the shock of his defeat to Thalia. His self-esteem had vanished so thoroughly that not even the Underworld could have turned up a trace of it.

"Vitten—"

"Your ability is not useless, Senior."

I was about to offer a word of comfort, but Thalia beat me to it.

"Your Awoken Ability could contend for the very top of the reinforcement type. I believe you were simply in poor condition that day."

Color flooded back into Vitten's face all at once.

"See? I wasn't myself that day, was I?"

"Yes. Certainly not."

"See... I kept thinking something felt off. There's no world in which I lose to you."

"Of course, I am the stronger of the two of us."

The moment Thalia drew that line, Vitten swayed where he stood. I cut the topic off there.

"We'll hear each candidate's Awoken Ability and make that our first assessment. The second round will be sparring, Awoken Abilities only."

Thalia nodded.

"That should serve. Other orders use much the same method."

"One more thing. We need to prepare a general track as well, for those without Awoken Abilities."

"I did wonder why the eligibility requirements never mentioned Awoken Abilities... Do you truly intend to take ordinary people into the order?"

"I do."

Five years ago, I had found infinite possibility dwelling in the soul of an abused child. This world held people whose gift lay not in any Awoken Ability, but in the path of the Dao. Finding them was the other purpose these interviews would serve.