"My lord, this castle is so... luxurious. I’ve never seen a place this big."
Ailia arrived at Henry’s study, panting as she carried the dinner tray. The castle was clearly, absurdly large.
A noble’s study was typically located on the third floor of the main keep, connected to his private chambers. Though called a study, it was essentially a room with a dining table and an office desk.
The banquet hall on the first floor of the keep was only used for entertaining large numbers of guests.
Seeing Ailia drenched in sweat from exhaustion, Henry said, "It looks like you need a promotion to head maid. I plan to hire five more maidservants to take care of cleaning the keep and other such tasks."
Ailia straightened up immediately upon hearing this. ’A promotion and a raise?’
"I’ll see to it, but I’ll need you to handle things by yourself for a few more days. Have you figured out how the baths here work?"
Ailia nodded. She had already figured out how to heat the baths and circulate the water, so it wouldn’t interfere with Henry’s evening routine.
"Good. I haven’t had a proper bath in days. This sticky feeling is unbearable."
Henry sat at the dining table, candlelight glinting off the exquisite silverware. It was all loot from his first raid on the Half-Beastman tribal encampment.
Steam wafted up, carrying an enticing aroma.
A golden-brown roasted chicken breast sat in the center of the plate, garnished with colorful vegetables and mashed potatoes smothered in a rich gravy.
This was a standard Baron’s dinner, one which Henry had started enjoying ahead of schedule. ’Hard work is no match for plunder. Only by developing and raiding in tandem can one climb the ladder.’
Henry picked up his knife and fork and carefully cut a piece of chicken. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the tender texture and rich flavor.
A good meal and a sound sleep were mankind’s greatest comforts. After dinner, Henry took another stroll around the castle, growing more satisfied with every step. Then, he washed up, changed his clothes, and fell into a blissful sleep.
For once, Henry didn’t dream. He simply slept deeply.
The next morning, Henry’s busy day began. The merchants had caught the scent of opportunity and come flocking.
News of Henry’s spectacular success had long since spread, and the merchants who had signed contracts with him months ago were ecstatic.
This was a major deal. They had previously worried that Henry might die on the battlefield or lack sufficient capital.
Just two and a half months ago, when Henry’s Government Housekeeper, Tommy, had requested the next shipment of various goods from them ahead of schedule, their hearts had been in their throats.
After all, even if Henry did default on the contract, small-time merchants like them wouldn’t dare take action against a landed noble. All those goods would have been a complete loss.
But now...
"Sir Knight, I’ve been holding onto those slaves for you! You see, when your Government Housekeeper came to collect the goods, I didn’t even ask for an extra deposit! That’s how much I trust you!"
"That’s right, Sir Knight! Those farm tools, livestock, and seeds—I’ve kept them all ready for you. Someone else wanted to place an order, but I refused to sell!"
Henry paid no mind to their flattery. Merchants, much like nobles, could lie as easily as they breathed.
Besides, their sycophantic behavior was pathetic. In the Caladia Empire, the very fact that a noble had to pay a deposit to sign a contract with a merchant was a subtle humiliation.
The one who was truly nervous was Bern, the arms merchant. Henry was no longer short on military equipment, so he might back out of their future deals, and Bern wouldn’t dare ask for compensation.
Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t worried. There was no way Henry would cancel a grain deal.
"Relax, gentlemen. Since we signed contracts and I paid the deposits, let’s complete the transactions now that you’re here. After that, our business will be concluded."
All the merchants breathed a sigh of relief. Bern, in particular, offered to gift Henry five sets of Chain Armor and ten sets of iron-plated Cloth Armor.
Naturally, Henry wouldn’t refuse such a gift. It was better than nothing.
Perhaps another Knight would be too ecstatic to sleep for days over fifteen sets of armor, but for someone like Henry, it was barely worth a second glance.
Boman would probably just toss an amount like that in the trash.
They were busy for the entire day arranging delivery schedules. After paying for everything stipulated in the contracts, Henry was surprised to find he still had 13,200 Dinar remaining.
Absolutely terrifying! Do you have any idea the kind of value a graduate of the Royal Capital Knight Academy holds?
’Those two, Boman and Fass, probably have tens of thousands in savings as well.’
Seeing that Henry had no desire to make small talk, the merchants took their leave, expressing their hopes for future business.
Over the next few days, Henry ignored the advice of Claude and Tommy, gathering a large number of serfs for "loyalty" training. The castle’s barracks were more than large enough to house them all anyway.
Henry trained them according to the methods in the Overlord Training manual. A massive amount of grain was consumed, and with each passing day, the serfs grew more... loyal.
"The lord suddenly recruited so many people. Is this really going to work?"
Claude watched Henry, who was in high spirits over at the barracks, and said uncertainly, "Perhaps. We have enough food and money, so there shouldn’t be a problem."
Tommy rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Are you playing dumb? The entire fief only has a population of three thousand, and the lord wants to build a professional Private Army of over one thousand men. That’s incredibly detrimental to the fief’s development."
"Then you go tell the lord. What’s the point of telling me?"
Claude was unconcerned. Besides, he figured the lord must have his reasons.
Tommy was so angry he pointed a finger at Claude, resisting the urge to punch him hard enough to put him on medical leave.
"You’re the Government Housekeeper. It’s your job to say something."
Claude fell silent for a moment before asking, "How are those forty new recruits the lord left with you?"
"They’re not bad. Why do you ask?"
Claude looked at Tommy and said meaningfully, "They were serfs before. Do you really think they’d let you command them without any real force in the fief to keep them in line? Logically, they should have run off with the Cotton Armor, swords, and shields to become bandits long ago."
’Huh? That’s right, how did that happen?’
Tommy’s brain started churning. After a long moment... he still couldn’t figure out what Claude was trying to say.
"Tommy, it’s not your fault. You weren’t there, so you don’t understand.
"Do you know? Those serfs the lord trained for just one month? On the battlefield, they acted like elite reserve recruits who had been training for half a year."
"What’s more, their will to fight against the Half-Beastmen was incredibly fierce. Both Philip and Bain told me as much."
"Do you get it, Tommy? Our lord... he has a real gift for training soldiers."
Claude himself didn’t realize just how fanatical his tone and expression had become as he spoke.
Seeing Claude’s fervent expression, Tommy finally understood the terrifying implication. ’This bewitching... no, that’s not it. This ability to train soldiers... it’s just too powerful, isn’t it?’