NOVPUBGhislain smiled warmly as he scanned the room, masking his true thoughts.
“Any other opinions? No?” he asked.
“None, sir...” the group responded in unison.
“Good. Now, you all know what you need to do. Especially the mages—you can’t rest. While expanding other facilities is important, the top priority is enlarging the farmlands and expanding the waterways and reservoirs.”
There was an overwhelming amount of work ahead.
First, they had to construct housing and various workshops to accommodate the incoming settlers. At the same time, they needed to continuously produce weapons and stockpile war supplies.
But the most crucial issue was securing enough food. Though they were still purchasing supplies from merchants, there was no guarantee that the supply would last forever. With a sudden population influx expected, they had to expand their farmlands significantly to ensure they could produce enough food for the long haul.
The room’s atmosphere turned grim.
‘There’s so much to do, how will we ever manage?’
‘And we have to prepare for war at the same time? Is this even possible?’
‘We don’t have a choice. We’ll die if we don’t. Damn it...’
The pressure of losing to Count Desmond, who had already been defeated by Ghislain once, weighed heavily on them. If they lost again, the entire Fenris estate would be left in ruins, and the retainers, along with their families, would likely lose their heads.
The retainer who looked the most troubled was Alfoy.
‘Where do I even start? There’s just too much to do!’
Alfoy had slacked off while Ghislain was away, allowing the workload to pile up. Although they wouldn’t need to prepare a new magic array for the wheat, thanks to the upcoming harvest, they still needed to craft a massive amount of runestones to keep up with the rapidly expanding farmlands. All the mages would have to carve enchantments non-stop to meet the required amount.
But that wasn’t all. The mages would also be pulled into other construction projects.
‘So this is what Ghislain meant when he said to be prepared... I should’ve finished some of this earlier. I’m doomed,’ Alfoy thought with dread.
Seeing the despair on the mages' faces, Ghislain chuckled and then called on Vanessa.
“Vanessa.”
“Yes, sir!” she responded with a jump.
“Focus less on your research for now and help Alfoy with the projects. There’s a lot of work to do, but you’re up for it, right?”
“Of course! Leave it to me!” Vanessa replied enthusiastically, clenching her fists with determination.
Unlike the other mages, Vanessa had no reservations about taking on the additional workload. She was always eager to assist Ghislain and had now reached the level of a 6th-circle mage. With her in the mix, the work would undoubtedly go faster.
“Good, I knew I could count on you,” Ghislain said with satisfaction.
Next, he turned to Lowell to check on a task he had assigned earlier.
“How is the recruitment progressing? I asked you to find some capable people,” Ghislain asked.
“We sent out the requests as soon as you gave the order, so we should be able to gather everyone within the next month,” Lowell replied confidently.
“Great. Once they arrive, inform me right away. Also, train more spies. We need to keep gathering intelligence.”
“Understood,” Lowell nodded, noting the emphasis Ghislain placed on gathering information.
Then, Ghislain looked at Gillian.
“The mercenaries' individual skills will be crucial in the future. Make sure the training focuses on enhancing each person’s combat ability.”
“Yes, sir,” Gillian replied with a nod. Of course, this meant that the mercenaries were in for hellish training, as Gillian would push them to their limits.
Ghislain then turned to Kaor.
“If Gillian is handling the mercenary training, you won’t have much to do. Is there anything in particular you’d like to take on?”
Kaor proudly raised his head. “Absolutely nothing.”
“...”
Ghislain was momentarily at a loss for words at Kaor’s blunt response. After a brief pause, Ghislain clicked his tongue and issued new orders.
“Mercenaries will train in shifts. When you're not training, you’ll oversee maintaining order in the territory. We’re still short on soldiers, so security is critical.”
“Fine... I guess I’ll do it,” Kaor replied reluctantly, his face a mixture of dissatisfaction and disinterest.
His reluctance wasn’t surprising—Kaor hated anything that wasn’t related to fighting. Ghislain had to assign him the task; otherwise, Kaor would likely sneak off to drink or laze around somewhere, something Ghislain couldn’t tolerate.
“And Belinda...”
“I’ll make sure everyone can focus on their work and training. I’ll support them to ensure their needs are met without disruption,” Belinda said with a knowing smile.
“As expected of you, Belinda. How do you always know exactly what I need?”
“If I don’t, who will? Hohoho,” Belinda responded playfully, earning a chuckle from Ghislain.
Belinda would handle everything from food and clothing to tending to the injured. She had always been adept at managing such responsibilities, so Ghislain had no doubt she’d handle it flawlessly.
Looking around the room, Ghislain gave a final word of warning.
“Don’t forget, if we aren’t fully prepared, we’ll all die. Be ready for a fight at any moment.”
“Yes, sir!” the retainers answered in unison, bowing their heads in acknowledgment.
Satisfied, Ghislain rose from his seat. “That’s all for today. Things may change as we move forward, depending on how things progress. If needed, I’ll give additional instructions, but for now, Claude will oversee everything.”
As soon as Ghislain finished speaking, Claude motioned to the retainers.
“Alright, you all know what you need to do. Let’s get to work! Bring me your detailed plans as soon as possible.”
The settlers were arriving soon, and any hesitation would only increase the burden. At Claude’s urging, the retainers hurried out of the hall.
Ghislain narrowed his eyes as he watched them leave.
He had made it abundantly clear that war was coming and they needed to prepare. If they failed to take his warning seriously, Count Desmond could destroy them all.
The Fenris estate had never been busier, and amid the chaos, Claude was the busiest of them all. As the head of the estate’s development, he was responsible for overseeing everything, leaving him with barely any time to sleep.
One day, while traveling with Wendy by carriage to meet a merchant, Claude mumbled to himself.
“I’m dying here... Maybe it would be better to let Count Desmond kill me. This is too much. Hey, you want to die with me?”
“...”
Wendy didn’t even bother responding to Claude’s nonsense. She was tempted to smack him, but seeing how gaunt and exhausted he looked, she decided against it. His eyes were sunken, and he had lost so much weight that he resembled a skeleton. Still, his mouth never stopped.
“I’m working myself to death to avoid dying in war, but it feels like this work is going to kill me first. And I can’t even complain to Ghislain,” Claude muttered.
Whenever the pressure became too much, Claude would try to convince Ghislain to abandon the estate and flee. But Ghislain was always too busy with the cosmetics business and expanding production, making it impossible to have a serious conversation.
Sighing, Claude continued, “I wish Ghislain was like other lords who just sit back and enjoy their wealth. If he was, we could take it easy. But no, he’s a workaholic. Doesn’t he look like someone who hates working? It’s weird, right?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Wendy replied.
“Don’t you think he’s overthinking things? Maybe he’s just blowing it all out of proportion. You know how people get caught up in their own image. What do you think?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Wendy repeated.
“You always say ‘I don’t know’ when it doesn’t suit you. You're really good at playing it safe, huh? ‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ all the time,” Claude teased in a high-pitched voice, mocking her.
Wendy shot him a glare but quickly turned her head away, deciding it was best to ignore him. Engaging with Claude’s nonsense would only make things worse.
In truth, Claude knew the situation was dire. But the overwhelming workload was driving him to madness, and his complaints were his only outlet.
As their carriage rattled along the road, Claude shifted his focus to a new target of complaint.
“This carriage is awful. When are we getting new ones? Nothing in this estate is to my liking. I deserve a luxury carriage, don’t you think?”
“...”
The carriage continued on its bumpy ride toward the estate’s border, where the merchants would meet them. Due to the estate’s strict blockade policies, the merchants couldn’t enter the main city, so Claude had to meet them at the edge of the territory.
Upon arrival, Claude wasted no time and immediately began the transaction.
“Alright, let’s get this over with. We’re busy, so check everything quickly.”
Typically, large transactions would begin with pleasantries, but Claude had no time for such formalities. The merchant, understanding the estate’s situation, didn’t mind.
After inspecting the goods, Claude nodded.
“The quantity is correct, and the quality is acceptable. I look forward to doing business again,” he said.
“Haha, of course! With such large orders, how could I do anything but my best?” the merchant replied with a hearty laugh.
The deal proceeded smoothly, but both Claude and the merchant were wary of each other.
‘Ghislain warned me to keep an eye on these guys. They’re being suspiciously accommodating,’ Claude thought.
‘Lady Amelia warned me about them, but everything seems fine so far. I don’t see anything wrong,’ the merchant thought.
The merchant in question was from the Actium Trading Company, which was under Amelia’s control. The company had been rapidly growing in the north, gaining a reputation for reliable transactions and high-quality goods.
Despite their mutual suspicions, both sides continued their business because they had no choice. Ghislain and Amelia were well aware of the situation but allowed it to continue because it was mutually beneficial. In this way, both parties were alike—willing to put aside personal feelings for the sake of their goals.
Just as the deal seemed to be wrapping up, the merchant hesitantly spoke up.
“Uh, Mr. Claude, I’m afraid I have some bad news. Prices will go up in the next transaction.”
“What do you mean? Prices are going up?” Claude asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Well, raw material and food prices have risen dramatically, so it’s getting harder for us to source goods...” the merchant explained.
Claude gave the merchant a skeptical look.
‘So this is why Ghislain warned me about them... They’re trying to raise the prices.’
To deal with merchants like this, Claude knew he had to play tough.
“Raising prices when we’re in the middle of a massive project? Are you trying to take advantage of us? This won’t end well for you.”
“That’s not it...”
“You do know who our lord’s backer is, don’t you? I’d hate to bring this up, but have you heard of the Marquis of Branford?”
Marquis Branford was Ghislain’s sponsor, but Claude often acted like the marquis was backing him personally. In fact, Claude was likely the person who invoked Branford’s name the most in the entire kingdom.
Sensing that things were about to escalate, the merchant quickly backpedaled.
“Oh no, that’s not what I meant! I swear we’re already giving you the best prices. Honestly, we’re barely breaking even. It’s just that supplies are running low.”
Merchants always claimed they were offering the lowest possible price, and Claude wasn’t one to be swayed by such words.
“Then why are supplies suddenly running low? That doesn’t make any sense,” Claude shot back.
“Well... isn’t it because the Fenris estate has bought everything up?” the merchant replied, slightly exasperated.
Claude blinked in realization. “Ah... you’re right.”
The estate had been purchasing enormous quantities of materials for the past month, draining the resources of every trading company in the north. Unfortunately, the northern region had fewer resources than other areas, so it was only natural that supplies were starting to run thin.
“Ugh, I need to come up with a plan,” Claude muttered, realizing the gravity of the situation. Time was already short, and now the supply shortage could cause further delays.
Just then, one of the estate’s administrators ran up, looking panicked.
“Mr. Claude! Sir, we have a problem!” the administrator exclaimed.
“Huh? What is it?” Claude asked, glancing suspiciously at the merchant.
The administrator leaned in to whisper.
“Our stockpile of lumber is nearly gone. We won’t be able to continue construction starting tomorrow.”
“What? Already?” Claude exclaimed in disbelief.
Lumber was the most critical resource for building houses, tools, fences, and even weapons like spears and arrows. It made sense that it was running out first, but the shortage had arrived much sooner than expected.
‘Damn it. What do we do now?’ Claude thought in frustration.
The forests in the Fenris estate were already nearly depleted due to their relentless logging. They couldn’t afford to be picky about how much wood they cut down. While they had been purchasing lumber from merchants, that, too, had limits.
‘Even if we place an order now, there’s no way the northern merchants can meet our demands. And if we try to source from other regions, it’ll take too long.’
Claude’s mind raced, but no immediate solution came to him. He bit his lip in frustration.
At that moment, a soldier came running toward them.
“Mr. Claude, they’ve arrived.”
“Arrived? What do you mean?” Claude asked, confused.
He hadn’t ordered anything recently, so what could have arrived?
The soldier, looking puzzled by Claude’s question, replied, “The settlers, sir. They’ve arrived.”
Claude’s eyes widened in horror.
The settlers—thousands of them—were arriving, and they didn’t even have enough wood to build their houses.
Claude buried his face in his hands and muttered, “We’re so screwed...”
It was a massive problem.
