Chapter 4: Mobilization Orders and the Drive for Development

Mobilization had been decided. According to imperial law, when a lord received marching orders ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from the emperor, a baron was required to prepare at least two thousand troops. Typically, barons led around three thousand soldiers into battle, earning ennoblement or expanded territories based on their military merits.

For the lords who reigned like kings in their domains to join the fray, the rewards had to be crystal clear. Otherwise, no one would obey the emperor's command. From the emperor's perspective, this was the limitation of the feudal system; for the lords, war was the golden opportunity to elevate their houses.

I would follow the novel's main storyline but needed a big splash early on to boost the serialization's view count—before the early game dragged on.

The territory buzzed with activity. Taxes spiked with the mobilization order, forges belched smoke, and knights drilled the soldiers relentlessly to whip them into shape.

The imperial envoy delivered the edict and vanished immediately, leaving word that we had to march in at least a month.

With the novel's major plot kicking off and me hitching my wagon to it—or evolving it—I couldn't just lounge around until deployment. For the first time since becoming lord, I convened a retainers' council.

The conference room hummed with murmurs.

Knight Captain Rommel's voice rang out. "The lord calling a meeting? Did the head chef slip poison into his breakfast or something?!"

"Aigoo, Captain, why say something so harsh? Our lord's always been a good man at heart. That's why this old retiree followed him all the way from the capital—knowing he'd come to his senses one day and become a grand overlord! Heh heh!"

"Tch, as if. This is probably a ploy to kill us all off, right?"

"……."

I could hear every word, you bastards. It wasn't poison making me act up; it was time to get serious. Sitting idle meant certain death by the story's rails. No more slacking off like usual(?).

I listened from behind the wall, then stepped out. "Hah, the lord holding a meeting for the territory's sake, and that's such a shock?"

"L-Lord!"

"Ooh! My lord! This humble servant has been counting the days for this moment!"

I scanned the faces in the room. The retainers weren't exactly an elite crew. No wonder—trash personalities don't attract talent. These folks were mostly stuck with me out of necessity.

First up, old man Kane, the steward handling the territory's finances. For some senile reason, he'd seen "grand overlord potential" in me and trailed from the capital.

High Priestess Cecilia had gone yandere for me and planted her ass here. Knight Captain Rommel was a holdover from the original staff. Soldier Captain Honus owed me his life from slavery, so he was bound here. Sharel was blood, no choice. The wildcard was Chief Administrator Kainus, a bureaucratic genius who let me slack off with books. Plot-wise, he was a dragon on some oracle's orders.

"You're all wondering why I called this meeting, right?"

"Hmph, plotting new ways to slack off, huh?" Sharel shot me a side-eye.

I ignored her glare and declared, "I'm allocating funds for territory development."

"……!"

Shocked expressions all around—even stone-faced Kainus twitched an eyebrow. Sharel muttered unwittingly, "He's finally lost it. Death's knocking? They say sudden changes are a bad omen."

"I've slacked enough. Time to work."

Steward Kane's eyes sparkled. "What form will this development take, my lord?!"

"Hm, first: land reclamation and road building. Our territory's a backwater, but that's thanks to the monsters. Right?"

"Indeed, my lord. And you've blocked the monster forest, keeping damage nil."

Kane's recap. "We cleared it recently, so it's safe for now. Clean up after wiping those giantkin bastards, reclaim arable land first, build reservoirs. Roads go without saying. Force the peasants, though, and we'll lose hearts—pay wages."

"W-Wages?!"

"Money circulates the economy. We need merchant caravans for basics now, but word of cash flow will draw merchants. Boom times, fattening the territory."

"Merchant caravans? You've thought this through." Sharel started snarky but ended defending me.

"Yeah, you'll handle caravans for now."

"What?! Why me?"

"You're a capable mage."

"Hah! Doesn't mean I do business!"

"Tsk tsk, think of our poor days."

"Don't you mean your screw-ups impoverished us?"

"Anyway, do it. Or no soup for you."

"Tch!"

Blood ties won; Sharel would obey eventually.

"Kainus handles land reclamation."

"Understood."

"Collect human and livestock waste separately. Mix with straw, compost months, use for spring planting."

"Eugh! Shit and piss as fertilizer?"

"Kainus?"

"Heh heh, not sure it'll work, but orders are orders."

"That's an order."

"As you command."

Kainus nodded lightly.

"Honus, detach 300 for caravan escort. Rommel, recruit 2,000 newbies. Families of recruits get tax breaks and land—30% tenant fee."

"Oho! That'll draw crowds, my lord. Wise judgment!"

Rommel rubbed his hands sycophantically. Knight or merchant? Skill mattered, though.

"Steward, repair walls, build canals, prep for refugees."

"Refugees? Walls and canals make sense, but... from where?"

"The north."

"Ooh! Leading northern refugees yourself?"

"Population is power. Wipe the giantkin, loot 'em for settlement funds."

"Ihya! Plunder planned too! Brilliant!"

Kane thumbs-upped. Thumbs existed back then?

"And me? What about me?!" Cecilia sparkled at me.

Modern stalker vibes were creepy. "Brew holy water. What else for priests? Sell as specialty, stock for war."

"Yes! For you, gladly!"

Temples were pains, but yandere saintess candidate simplified it.

"Ah! What about our date?"

"Da... te?" Sharel's eye twitched.

Me ruining a holy virgin? Blocky, yeah...

My face must've soured. Love goddess into romance? Whatever, can't fight it now. Dodge.

"Uh... sure."

"When, where, how?!" Cecilia's eyes shone.

Venus probably seethed; vague answer risked penalties. Abundance goddess? Buffs incoming? They watched for different reasons. Views up—good.

"Plenty of time ahead, anytime."

"Woohoo! Yay!"

"Ugh, insane."

Mixed emotions bubbled. How to handle Cecilia(?)? Then alarms blared.

'Nice! Faster progress than the original novel!'

My expressions drew puzzled stares. Tough—shut up unless you want your skull cracked.

"Meeting adjourned. Move!"

Heading out, I pondered divine perks. Revenge blessings synergized, but maybe Mahadev and Demeter didn't mesh? Nah.

Right—Mahadev was destruction and regeneration. Farm yields hyped already. Synergies needed study.

A week post-meeting, changes accelerated. Money's power awed. Original protag was filthy rich, fueling early booms. But this dump sucked funds dry—tens of thousands gold gone flipping it.

Leaked cash flow news; merchants incoming, economy stirring. Rebuilt hovels, zero-interest loans. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Dropped taxes from 60% to 40% fearing backlash, poured into walls, roads, reclamation, reservoirs—progress exploded.

My occasional hands-on boosted morale hugely.

"Here, my lord." Kainus pointed the aquifer.

Massive reservoir in reclaiming fields, built nonstop with hired low-rank spiritists and mages. Magic rocks. Skipped it in writing for freshness—good call.

I swung the hammer lightly. Boom!

"Gasp! God's Herculean Strength..."

"Impossible power!"

Hired mages gawked. Duh—perk triggers on weapons, not just combat. Child's play.

"Waaah!"

"Long live the lord!"

Cheers proved hearts mended.

"Still not enough."

Too vanilla. Gods nibbled interest, but views stagnant—no new gods, olds bored. Demeter flickered faintly. They craved stimulus. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Tech-up bored 'em.

"Time to play big?"

Shift to imperial bully build. Endgame: topple empire, crown ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠myself, rule all.