Chapter 111

Chapter 111
Chapter 111

The troops loyal to Calix stood frozen, their expressions filled with confusion.

There were no other commanders present for him to address, which begged the question: who exactly was he giving orders to?

Lucian clicked his tongue in irritation and turned his gaze back toward the ranks.

“What is the delay? My words were directed at you.”

“Wait… us, my lord?” one stammered.

“Indeed. Take him into custody and bind him.”

“But, the thing is… we serve…”

“The conflict has reached its conclusion. This individual is now my captive, and I have become your new sovereign. Carry out my instructions.”

Could such a transition truly be so simple?

The demand felt entirely illogical, yet the sheer weight of Lucian’s absolute self-assurance left the men in a state of paralysis. Furthermore, it was an undeniable reality of their world that a defeat in a territorial struggle resulted in a change of masters, making it nearly impossible for them to find a valid reason to refuse.

After a tense period of uncertainty, the soldiers moved forward with hesitant steps and began to tie Norbeck’s hands.

“The prisoner is secured, sir.”

“Excellent. We shall proceed toward Asagrim. Communicate my directives to the various unit leaders immediately.”

“As you wish, sir.”

The men followed behind Lucian, though their features remained clouded with doubt regarding the legitimacy of their actions.

On reflection, however, the situation was far from unfavorable for them.

By choosing to keep the Calix infantry under his banner, Lucian was signaling his intent to treat them as comrades rather than enemies. Since they would not be hunted down as fleeing losers or subjected to the cruelty often shown to the defeated, this was, in many respects, the most merciful outcome they could have hoped for.

“And as for the three of you, what is your plan?”

“…”

Lucian shifted his focus to the knights, who appeared to be in a state of mental collapse. Whether they were reeling from the impossible scene they had just witnessed or were simply paralyzed by shock, the trio of warriors struggled to maintain any semblance of composure.

Finally, a younger knight found his voice, though it trembled as he spoke.

“W-what would you have us do?”

Lucian let out a sharp, derisive laugh at the pathetic inquiry.

“Does my desire carry more weight than your own principles? It seems your knightly honor has rotted away to nothing.”

“…!”

“If you claim the title of knight, then conduct yourselves accordingly. That is my final word on the matter.”

Faced with such a biting retort, the young man fell silent, his skin flushing a deep, embarrassed crimson.

As the heavy silence lingered, a knight of middle age slowly unsheathed his weapon.

“Prepare your blade.”

“Is it your intention to perish on this spot?”

“Do I have a different choice?”

The vow of loyalty a knight gave was a permanent bond once spoken. For as long as Norbeck remained defiant, the men who had pledged their lives to him were duty-bound to resist until the very end—even if that end meant their certain demise.

“I am merely upholding the obligations of my station. Surely a man like you would not respect us if we crawled on the ground begging for mercy.”

Lucian met the older knight’s declaration with a faint, knowing smile.

Unlike the common footmen, who could shift their allegiances as the winds of war changed, a knight was defined by his sacred oath. The moment they discarded that promise, they forfeited their identity. Lucian had no interest in bringing such compromised men into his own ranks.

“Then strike. I cannot guarantee a finish as elegant as the one Felicia provided, but I will ensure your passing is as swift as possible.”

“Such vanity. Are you claiming the prowess of your subordinate as if it were your own?”

“That is a bold statement coming from someone who stood idly by until the dust had already settled.”

This engagement had been structured so that it favored their side as long as Felicia was brought down, regardless of the body count. If these knights possessed even a shred of true talent, Norbeck would have thrown them into the fray if only to wear her down. Yet, they had remained spectators until this moment.

It was glaringly obvious to Lucian that Norbeck had kept them back because they lacked even the basic skill required to be useful as a distraction.

“My name is Lucian Grimaldi Valdek. I am the warrior who struck down Harald the Wolf Slayer. If you possess a title or a name worth remembering, declare it now.”

“…If I were a man of such renown, I would have introduced myself long ago. You truly possess a talent for being insufferable until the very last breath.”

The veteran knight sighed, a sound of weary lament, and settled into a combat stance.

His form was grounded and disciplined, yet there was no palpable sense of power or intimidation coming from him. It wasn’t a matter of him suppressing his strength; rather, his abilities simply hadn’t reached the threshold where he could manifest a true warrior’s aura.

Lucian addressed the man, who met his gaze without a trace of cowardice.

“Regardless, you are a genuine knight.”

The middle-aged man responded with a pained, dry smile.

“I have never been anything else.”

Splat!

Lucian gave his sword a sharp flick, sending the coating of blood spraying onto the dirt.

Just as he had surmised, the capabilities of the three surviving knights were unremarkable, making their elimination a simple task.

With the remnants of the opposition cleared away, Lucian beckoned for Gareth, the commander of the Blue Rose Knight Order.

“Sir Gareth, take your knights and move to seize the lands previously governed by Calix.”

“Only our unit, sir? Without the backing of additional infantry?”

Gareth looked at Lucian with an expression of uncertainty. While he held no doubts about the martial skill of his men, attempting to take and hold fortified territories with nothing but a single order of knights was an incredibly daunting prospect.

Seeing the hesitation, Lucian offered a reassuring grin.

“There will be no need for a struggle. That old man undoubtedly scraped together every able-bodied man to oppose me, leaving his strongholds virtually unguarded. Your task is simply to arrive and hoist our banners.”

“And if the panicked local population refuses to unbar the gates?”

“Carry a few of the heads of these fallen knights with you and present them as proof. Once the realization sinks in that their cause is lost, they will have no alternative but to surrender, regardless of their feelings.”

“Understood.”

Though the reply was immediate, Gareth’s face remained twisted with a sense of bewilderment.

The reason was clear—Lucian had only recently seen his seventeenth birthday. By all rights, he should have possessed almost zero practical experience in the theater of war, yet his insights suggested a profound understanding of the geopolitical shifts that occur in the wake of a victory. It was enough to make one wonder if his recent triumphs had inflated his ego to dangerous levels.

“You will find that my assessment is correct once you arrive.”

Lucian gave a knowing smile, sensing the captain’s skepticism.

He didn’t take offense at the doubt, but the reality was that his strategy was informed by the memories of his previous life. In desperate times, lords who felt the walls closing in would frequently mobilize every resource their land possessed for a final, frantic stand, giving no thought to what would happen afterward. By the time they reached such a state of panic, the battle was already lost, and the pattern of the aftermath was always the same.

The common people are one matter, but the real difficulty lies with the bureaucrats and the governing officials attempting to escape. Once word of Norbeck’s capture begins to circulate, they will try to slip out of the fortifications, so we must intercept them before they vanish.

He harbored no desire to punish the administrative staff who had served Calix. In truth, those very officials were the assets Lucian required most to effectively manage the newly won territories.

The data on the local population and tax yields, the upkeep requirements for the garrison, the typical agricultural output, the manufacturing capacity of various sectors—all of it was vital. If the men holding those records disappeared, he would be forced to spend a fortune and an immense amount of time conducting new surveys.

The issue is that administrators are prone to fleeing out of sheer terror. The moment a war concludes in failure, they seize whatever wealth they have accumulated and disappear into the night.

It was a rational fear. Plundering by greedy soldiers or senseless slaughter by ignorant victors were common historical events. However, regardless of how much he empathized with their fear, their departure would represent a massive setback for him. He needed the knights to arrive quickly to secure the officials before the full scope of the defeat became public knowledge.

As long as the transition is orderly, they are the sort of people who would never even consider running. Once the new administration is established, they will remain in their positions of their own accord without me needing to use force.

Lucian turned his attention away from the departing Blue Rose Knight Order.

The battlefield was now devoid of hostiles. There were only the soldiers who had traded their loyalty from Calix to Grimaldi, and those who had served Grimaldi from the beginning.

Now the undisputed commander of the entire force, Lucian issued his final command of the day.

“We begin our march back to Asagrim.”

It was time to deliver the news of their triumph to those who waited.

When they reached the gates of Asagrim, the former Calix soldiers began to whisper amongst themselves. Their voices weren’t filled with the dread of captives, but with genuine amazement and curiosity.

“By the gods, people actually live here in Asagrim!”

“I heard the rumors that a new lord had taken over, but I didn’t think it was true.”

“Do you think we could move our families here as well?”

“I’m not sure about settling in a place that doesn’t even have a tavern yet…”

“You fool, forget the tavern! Do you have any idea what kind of land this is?!”

“If you manage to claim a plot of land now, its value will skyrocket in just a few years!”

Lucian watched the soldiers’ excitement with a sense of satisfaction. The exact reason he had insisted they come along was to provoke this very reaction.

It’s working exactly as planned. If I give them a glimpse of the city and then dismiss them, they will seek to return here by their own choice.

No matter how tempting the incentives offered, any form of state-mandated migration always resulted in bitterness. It was far more effective for the commoners to relocate their lives voluntarily. Fortunately, Asagrim held the reputation of a sacred site in the North. Its legendary status alone was enough to attract more than enough willing settlers.

Some might only be interested in staying long enough to flip their property for a profit, but as long as the headcount rises, that serves my purpose. Trade and industry only truly ignite once the population hits a certain density.

To a merchant, a high population was synonymous with a large customer base. As more people arrived, a thriving commercial district would naturally emerge. This, in turn, would make life more convenient for the residents, attracting even more settlers in a self-sustaining cycle. And throughout that growth, a portion of the wealth would naturally return to the treasury as tax revenue.

“Stay here for a moment.”

Lucian instructed the soldiers to wait in the courtyard outside the inner walls and then sent a messenger for Rotier, who had been residing within the White Palace.

Rotier, who had once served as the head of the Asagrim guard, arrived at Lucian’s side with a look of smug satisfaction.

“So, you have finally seen reason and decided to accept the terms of my proposal.”

“No, you can forget about that deal. Instead, I have a task for you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“There is a group of soldiers from the outer territories waiting. They seem quite taken with Asagrim. Since the former guardsmen are intimately familiar with every corner of this city, I want you to lead them on a tour.”

Rotier blinked in disbelief as he realized Lucian was assigning him chores. He was being ordered to act as a common tour guide? And for low-ranking soldiers, no less?

“Your Grace, I believe there has been a misunderstanding. We are not among your servants or retainers.”

“I am well aware of that. You have no formal ties to me. If I had to define our arrangement, we are a group of vagrants living off the charity of a very tolerant landlord.”

Lucian met Rotier’s sarcasm with a sharp, cold truth. As Rotier sputtered, searching for a comeback, Lucian pressed on.

“Therefore, this is a request, not a command. Since I am asking you with such courtesy, I assume you will see the wisdom in agreeing.”

“And if I choose to decline?”

“What then? I won’t raise a hand against you. You will simply be a parasite who accepts a landlord’s roof but refuses to return even the smallest gesture of goodwill.”

“…”

“And my pantry has no room for parasites. If you cannot find it in yourself to perform such a minor favor, you will be required to vacate the premises.”

Rotier’s face reddened with anger as he prepared to argue, but the words died in his throat and he eventually bowed his head. Regardless of how much the insult stung, he couldn’t deny that his current lifestyle in Asagrim depended entirely on Lucian’s forbearance.

I would love to snap back and tell him I’ll pay for my own lodging, but…

If he made such a boast and Lucian actually produced a bill, he would have to spend every coin he had saved for his eventual return to the capital. If he ended up broke and unable to settle his debt, he would be thrown out onto the street. Realizing that his pride was a luxury he couldn’t afford, Rotier sighed with an air of defeat.

“…What exactly do you want me to show them?”

“As I said. Give those men outside an exhaustive tour of the city. Focus on the most impressive landmarks and the areas that seem the most inviting for a family to settle down in.”

“And if their reaction is poor despite my best efforts?”

“What happens?”

At Rotier’s question, Lucian let out a smirk.

“Starting tomorrow, your portions will be significantly reduced. A man who cannot successfully complete the simple task he was given does not require the caloric intake of a productive member of society.”