NOVPUBGhislain’s confidence was evident, but Claude’s tone was skeptical as he asked,
“Combat rations?”
“That’s right. Start by setting up a facility for manufacturing them. I’ll provide the details on what’s needed.”
“Is this another one of those secret techniques only you know, my lord?”
“Exactly. It’s something that doesn’t exist in this world yet.”
“Hmm...”
Claude sighed, recalling past endeavors. Whether it was improving wheat or developing cosmetics, Ghislain’s ideas had always seemed absurd at first, yet they had ultimately succeeded. Claude had long stopped trying to argue against such projects, though a nagging question remained.
Creating combat rations would certainly improve the army’s supply chain and morale, significantly boosting combat effectiveness. But if it was such a revolutionary idea, why was Ghislain only now deciding to implement it?
“Why didn’t you do this earlier, my lord? Wouldn’t it have been better to create these in advance?”
Ghislain nodded as if the question were brilliant and began explaining.
“First, I didn’t want to overburden everyone with more work.”
“...Lies.”
“Second, there wasn’t a need to expand our reach across the entire kingdom until now.”
“Hmm...”
“Third, it wasn’t feasible to make them before we took Desmond.”
“Why not?”
“Because it requires a lot of ingredients. Getting everything through trade would have been limiting and unreliable. Depending on the situation, securing resources might not even have been possible.”
Finally understanding, Claude nodded.
Wars often disrupted supply chains, making once-reliable goods difficult—or impossible—to procure. It was the same reason why Count Kavaldi’s control over iron ore shipments had severely impacted the North. If the trade guilds aligned with the Dukedom, they could easily cut off vital resources from Ghislain.
“So, what ingredients are we talking about that make Desmond essential for this?”
“A lot,” Ghislain said with a smirk. “Wheat, barley, corn, beans, millet, sorghum, oats, red beans, turnips, cabbages... and that’s just the start. We’ll also need various fruits, herbs, and meats. Way more than you’re imagining.”
“...Oh.”
The list was indeed extensive. In the barren North, only territories like Desmond and Rayfold had the fertile land needed to produce such a variety of resources. Most other regions were dominated by mountains and wastelands, making diversified farming nearly impossible. Even areas with decent farmland focused almost exclusively on growing wheat.
But Desmond, with its abundant fertile land, had long been an exception. It not only cultivated various crops but also raised livestock and herbs. While droughts had recently reduced yields, the potential for production remained high.
“What exactly are you making that needs all of that?”
“It’d take too long to explain now. You’ll understand as soon as you see it.”
“Hmm...”
Though skeptical, Claude nodded. Suspicion was par for the course with Ghislain, but his ideas had always yielded results. Waiting to see the outcome felt like the safest course.
“Anyway, you understand, right? We’ll use runestones to increase the yield of the crops needed for the combat rations. Let’s start preparing for that.”
“Ugh... This sounds like it’ll cost a fortune. Are you sure this is worth it? Setting up a manufacturing facility is one thing, but managing all those ingredients is another.”
Money was, as always, the sticking point. While Claude understood the importance of supply chains, investing such massive resources into something as mundane as food felt excessive.
But Ghislain cut through his doubts with a firm tone.
“I’ve said it before—how much money it costs doesn’t matter. Money is a means, not an end. What matters is combat strength. We must channel all the domain’s resources into enhancing it.”
“Yes, my lord...”
Claude replied with a defeated sigh. Ghislain’s every action so far had been aimed at one thing: increasing military power. His entire life seemed to revolve around fighting.
Still, Claude couldn’t help but feel curious about what these new combat rations would be. Ghislain’s ideas had a way of exceeding expectations, no matter how absurd they seemed at first.
For the first time, Claude and the other vassals felt a flicker of anticipation.
“Alright, let’s get to work!” Ghislain declared, handing a blueprint to Galvarik.
As usual, the blueprint was little more than a rough sketch outlining basic functionality. Galvarik examined it carefully before nodding.
“This one’s simple enough. I’ll have it ready in no time.”
The facility primarily involved drying, grinding, and processing ingredients—tasks simple enough for a dwarf craftsman. The only challenge would be the drying process, which would require some assistance from mages to expedite.
“Understood. I’ll get started right away.”
Galvarik and the dwarves immediately set to work. With Fenris already accustomed to rapid construction projects, the facility was completed in no time.
Galvarik presented the finished product with pride.
“How’s that? We’re getting faster every time! Now check to see if it meets your expectations.”
Ghislain inspected the facility’s equipment carefully, nodding with a serious expression.
‘I have no idea what I’m looking at.’
Honestly, Ghislain wasn’t qualified to assess the intricate machinery. His understanding was limited to the basic concept and required materials, knowledge gleaned purely from what he deemed necessary for waging war against the kingdom.
The details, however, were someone else’s responsibility.
‘If only I had the old Claude.’
The Claude of his previous life—hardened by countless trials and missing a few limbs—had been a master of such knowledge, unlike the somewhat bumbling version now at his side. Without that level of expertise available, Ghislain had to rely on the dwarves to bring his ideas to life.
“Well, I’ll have to see the results to be sure, but it looks like everything’s in place,” Ghislain said casually.
With the facility operational, they began producing prototypes immediately. Supplies were still scarce due to the drought and the resources Harold had consumed for war, but Ghislain intended to scale up both the facility and farmland once the prototype’s effectiveness was proven.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Ssshhhhh!
The machinery designed by the mages and dwarves roared to life. Workers, uncertain of what they were making, busied themselves following Ghislain’s instructions. They hauled in materials, dried them, milled them, and ground them into powder.
“What do you think the lord is making?”
“All the ingredients seem edible.”
“Maybe it’s noble food? Something fancy for the upper class?”
No one could guess. The final product was a finely milled, yellowish powder. One worker, out of curiosity, tasted it and tilted his head.
“The taste isn’t bad. It’s kind of nutty... maybe a little sweet?”
“Is it some kind of seasoning? Seems like it’d go well in stew.”
“Why bother making something like this? Aren’t there already better-tasting sauces and food options?”
The workers speculated while they worked, but none could come up with a definitive answer.
Meanwhile, Ghislain inspected the final product with a deeply satisfied expression.
“Good. It’s close enough.”
The powder was remarkably similar to the one he remembered from his previous life. The taste was slightly different, but that didn’t matter—flavor wasn’t the priority here.
Grabbing a water flask, Ghislain added a couple of spoonfuls of the powder and shook it vigorously. The water turned the same pale yellow color as the powder. Most people would have hesitated at the murky appearance, but Ghislain drank it down without a second thought.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
“Ahhh!”
He drained the flask in one go and clenched his fist. With his finely tuned senses, Ghislain could detect even the subtlest changes in his body. After drinking the mixture, he felt a faint but noticeable warmth spread through him—an effect imperceptible to the average person.
“Perfect. It’s a success. It’s almost identical to what I tasted back then. Now, we just need to test it.”
He was certain this was what he had envisioned. Still, a proper human trial would take at least a month to verify its effectiveness.
Without delay, Ghislain summoned Claude.
“What is it now? I’m busy as hell!”
“It’s done.”
“The new combat ration?”
“That’s right. We’re moving on to testing. Let’s recruit some volunteers.”
Ghislain showed him the prototype, prompting Claude to stare blankly before asking,
“That... powder is the combat ration?”
“Yep.”
“You expect people to fill their bellies with powder?”
“Exactly. You mix it with water and drink it. Watch.”
Ghislain grabbed a small flask, added some powder, and shook it with exaggerated motions.
Claude frowned. “What are you doing now?”
“You shake it! Shake it like this until it makes that shick shick sound!”
Claude suppressed the urge to roll his eyes but waited patiently for Ghislain to finish his demonstration.
After thoroughly mixing the powder, Ghislain took another gulp and said,
“See? Once it’s properly mixed, you just drink it.”
“And that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“How much do you need to drink?”
“Once a day will keep you alive. Twice or three times a day will give you enough energy to fight. If you bring enough of this, you can last a month without resupply.”
Claude broke into a wide grin, more incredulous than amused.
“My lord?”
“What?”
“Humans can survive on just water for several days, sure.”
“That’s true.”
“And adding a bit of powdered biscuit or jerky will keep you going a little longer.”
“Also true.”
“But that’s just barely surviving! You’d collapse after taking one hit in a fight!”
“That’s not the case here. This provides all the nutrients your body needs, keeping you energetic and ready to fight.”
Ghislain’s confidence stemmed from personal experience. In his previous life, he and his soldiers had relied on this powder during critical missions, sustaining their combat capabilities for over a month with just a few flasks.
Though slight hunger pangs were inevitable, it didn’t hinder mobility or combat effectiveness. 𝖓𝖔𝖛𝔭𝖚𝖇.𝔠𝖔𝔪
“This stuff is a game-changer for maintaining combat readiness.”
In times of chaos, ensuring supply lines for troops operating deep in hostile territory had been one of the biggest challenges. Balloon drops and magical deliveries were options, but even they had limitations.
Research into long-lasting rations had always been a priority. Conventional preserved foods were bulky and heavy, limiting the amount that could be carried.
Developing this powder had been a monumental task. It had to be easy to make, require affordable ingredients, have an extended shelf life, and provide sufficient nutrition to sustain strength and stamina. After countless experiments by the continent’s best scholars and mages, they had finally succeeded.
The powder was revolutionary. It could be consumed with water or even dry in extreme circumstances. Its greatest advantage was its ability to provide balanced nutrition and maintain energy levels for extended periods. It was one of the key innovations that had expanded humanity’s operational range during the calamities of his previous life.
But for someone like Claude, bound by the conventional wisdom of this era, such claims sounded ludicrous.
“My lord, even if you add all those ingredients, do you really think a few spoonfuls of powder will keep people full? Sure, it might be better than nothing, but after a few days, people will just collapse!”
In this era, the belief that you needed a full stomach to fight was universal. Hunger was synonymous with weakness. Claude, a self-proclaimed expert in this field, was especially firm in his skepticism.
“How many times have I starved in my life?”
Having lived as a penniless gambler, Claude had eaten everything from scraps to dried rations stretched out over days. Those experiences had taught him that eating too little left you dizzy, weak, and miserable.
The amounts he had consumed back then were far more substantial than what Ghislain was suggesting. He couldn’t imagine anyone, even knights with mana, surviving a month on just this powder.
“Wait, so we’re testing this? That means even Ghislain doesn’t know if it works yet?”
As Claude was busy calculating how to undermine the plan, Ghislain spoke with conviction.
“Even if you drink this twice a day, you’ll be fine. Your stamina might drop slightly, but not to the extent you think.”
“You’ve obviously never gone hungry, have you, my lord?”
“Of course I have. Probably spent more days homeless than not in my life.”
“Oh, here we go again. Always with the tall tales.”
Claude couldn’t fathom Ghislain—a noble’s son—ever experiencing real hunger. At most, he might have camped out for a few days while pretending to slum it.
“My lord, you’ve made plenty of strange inventions, and I’ll admit they’ve worked so far. But this? People can’t fight on just this stuff. A week, tops. After that, they’ll all collapse. And you want to spend all this money—on farmland, runestones, facilities—for this?”
“That’s why we’re running the test, isn’t it?”
Claude scoffed. “It’s pointless. Mark my words, it’ll fail. And if it does, your reputation will be in the gutter. Nobody will take you seriously after this.”
Ghislain knew Claude well enough to see through his feigned concern. Grinning, he leaned in and said,
“How about a wager, then?”
Claude’s eyes sparkled with interest, but instead of jumping at the offer, he hesitated.
This time, he intended to make the stakes sky-high.
