Chapter 220

Chapter 220 – How Many Tasks Have Been Handled? (2)

Currently, the Ritania Kingdom’s military structure consists of four legions, which serve as an impenetrable defense around the capital, Cardenia.

Regional forces, on the other hand, are organized anew during times of war by summoning the lords of each region.

However, the commander of the regional forces is pre-selected during peacetime to establish strategies for various scenarios. This approach is far more stable than hastily appointing and directing a commander during a crisis.

For this reason, the position of a regional force commander often amounts to little more than a nominal title during peacetime.

Yet, this role comes with one powerful authority.

It grants the commander the right to summon all the lords within their region during wartime.

Currently, Count Desmond held the position of Northern Army Commander.

Ghislain intended to take that position from him.

“To fight against the Ducal Families later, that title will be crucial. It’ll also be invaluable during times of turmoil.”

Though the position was largely honorary at the moment, in his past life, it had wielded immense authority.

The rebellion led by Duke Delfine had forcibly conscripted soldiers from each region, thereby weakening the lords’ influence and molding them into a royal standing army.

At that time, Harold Desmond, who rose to the rank of duke, naturally retained the position of Northern Army Commander.

Ghislain planned to seize control of the entire North in the same manner as Count Desmond had in his previous life.

But the Marquis of Branford, who had no way of knowing the future, could only feel puzzled by Ghislain’s request.

“Do you have a reason for this?”

“In any case, Count Desmond and I are bound to clash. You’ve seen how things have unfolded so far, haven’t you?”

“He won’t easily start a war. Surely, he knows that we would strike him directly if necessary.”

It was a comforting remark, but honestly, Ghislain couldn’t trust it. The Royal Faction was already struggling just to keep the Ducal Families in check.

Still, there was no need to bruise the Marquis’ pride by pointing that out, so Ghislain offered a vague reply.

“After dealing with Desmond, I’ll need justification to suppress the other lords.”

“Justification?”

“Yes. I’m practically the standard-bearer of the Royal Faction. Someone like me can’t wage constant war against all the northern lords, can I?”

Only then did the Marquis of Branford nod a few times in agreement.

If no war occurred, the position would remain meaningless, offering no authority over anyone.

But if civil war broke out, the situation would change. Civil war is still war, and the position of regional force commander would provide sufficient justification and authority to deal with the lords in chaos.

“Since Count Desmond has already bared his fangs, I was planning to deal with him anyway...”

In the South and West, where the lords had already aligned themselves with the Ducal Families, appointing anyone as commander was meaningless.

However, parts of the Eastern and Northern regions had not yet fallen under the influence of the Ducal Families and were holding out well.

In these areas, no matter how nominal the position of commander might seem, it was unthinkable to leave someone loyal to the Ducal Families in charge.

This was especially true in the North, where a refreshing wind of change was blowing in the form of Baron Fenris. This made it even more imperative to curtail the Ducal Families’ influence.

After a moment of deliberation, Marquis of Branford spoke with a casual expression.

“The position of Northern Commander might be largely honorary, but during wartime, it wields tremendous power. While Count Desmond must indeed be removed, appointing you to that position is an entirely different matter.”

“You’ve already won the war. Weren’t you planning to ride that victory and push forward? You were probably wondering what else to give as a reward, weren’t you?”

With Ghislain’s brazen response, the Marquis of Branford let out a sly grin. Ghislain wasn’t wrong.

In war, momentum was everything. The Royal Faction had been quietly sinking under the relentless pressure of the Ducal Families. Ghislain’s victory, however, had provided a turning point in the atmosphere.

Other lords and nobles who had been biding their time began to covertly align themselves with the Royal Faction.

Seeing how things played out, a new perception began to take hold.

― That brat from the North accomplished that? Then how strong is the Royal Faction’s potential?

― If this is the case, even if the Ducal Families are powerful, they won’t easily suppress the Royal Faction. After all, the Royal Faction has the justification on its side, doesn’t it?

― As expected of the Marquis of Branford. He preemptively dispatched the Second Legion to block Desmond’s forces, didn’t he? The rumor that Count Desmond is aligned with the Ducal Families has spread far and wide.

The Marquis of Branford wasn’t the type to let this favorable atmosphere pass by idly.

He had spent decades navigating the political arena, eliminating rivals. His plan was to give Ghislain a tangible reward and leverage the current momentum to sustain their gains for as long as possible.

“A hunting dog should be fearless and have exceptional hunting skills,” he thought.

The peculiar young man in front of him certainly fit the bill. Of course, whether he was merely a hunting dog or a rabid one that might turn on his master remained to be seen.

“If someone must take the position, this brat is the best option.”

There would undoubtedly be protests against entrusting such a key role to someone so young and inexperienced. Yet no matter how the Marquis analyzed it, there was no one better than Ghislain for the North.

If he could truly defeat Count Desmond, Ghislain would ascend to become a great lord whom no one could dismiss.

“I had been pondering what kind of reward to give him... He always shows up at just the right time to claim exactly what he wants. What a troublesome fellow.”

He could refuse, of course, but Ghislain always managed to create situations where refusal became incredibly difficult. The more the Marquis of Branford observed him, the more fascinated he became.

There was no denying Ghislain’s competence. His personality was wild and unruly, making him difficult to control, but his skills more than made up for it.

After a brief moment of contemplation, the Marquis of Branford slowly nodded.

“Fine, I’ll grant you the position.”

Ghislain smiled brightly. While he hadn’t expected Branford to reject him given their aligned goals, he couldn’t help but feel delighted now that everything had worked out.

Having secured what he came for, Ghislain planned to hand over a token gift of food supplies and return. However, the Marquis of Branford wasn’t finished speaking.

“Now that you’ve taken control of Count Cabaldi’s territory, I will soon submit a proposal to the royal court for your ennoblement.”

“I don’t particularly want to be ennobled, though.”

Ghislain meant it. He had only needed a title to claim a lordship early on, but now, he had no use for such things. If the need arose in the future, he could crush dukes or kings alike with sheer force and take whatever he wanted.

But the Marquis of Branford spoke seriously.

“...The position of regional force commander requires at least the rank of count. That’s the law of the kingdom.”

Scratching the back of his head, Ghislain chuckled awkwardly.

“Oh, is that so? I’m not well-versed in the law. Huh, so there’s a rule like that?”

“...”

Truly, this was a man who could live without laws.

Ghislain greeted them with a radiant smile, graciously accepting their congratulations. It was obvious they were seething with jealousy, barely able to contain their bitterness.

They likely never expected Ghislain to rise to such prominence.

‘They must’ve thought I’d be used and discarded, but here I am, soaring higher and higher. No wonder they’re flustered.’

Now the gap between them was too wide for them to even dare to ignore him, but their eyes still betrayed envy and jealousy.

‘The ducal family won’t sit idly by. Just die already.’

‘I heard he’s going to clash with Count Desmond.’

‘Go, Count Desmond! Win this one!’

It was clear they were cursing him in their minds, but Ghislain found no value in paying attention to their thoughts.

Of course, not everyone reacted begrudgingly.

Several high-ranking nobles who had taken a liking to Ghislain offered him genuine congratulations.

In particular, Count and Countess Aylesbur and Count Norton were overjoyed.

“Truly, congratulations! To claim the title of count at such a young age is remarkable!”

“Thanks to your success, the atmosphere in our circles has greatly improved.”

“If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll give my utmost to assist you.”

“Thank you. I’ll be relying on your guidance and support in the future.”

As soon as the high-ranking nobles left, a swarm of young noblewomen gathered around Ghislain. The buzz of extraordinary rumors surrounding him made it impossible for them to suppress their curiosity.

Rosalyn, who had been standing near Ghislain, was pushed back by the sudden crowd and ended up falling to the floor. She clenched her fists and ground her teeth in frustration.

‘Infuriating! This is so infuriating, I could die!’

Even priests from the Juana Church approached him. As soon as Porisco saw Ghislain, he grabbed his hand and beamed.

“My, my! Congratulations! You’re indeed someone chosen to receive the goddess’s revelation alongside me!”

‘Die. Just die already! How did you even become a count?! What am I supposed to do now?!’

Despite what he was undoubtedly thinking inside, Porisco’s acting was impeccable. In all my lifetimes, I could count on one hand how many people I’d seen who could put on such a convincing performance.

Holding back laughter, Ghislain played along.

“Oh, you flatter me. It’s all thanks to the goddess’s grace, I’m sure.”

In this manner, Ghislain spent the entire banquet tirelessly dealing with all the prominent figures from the capital. It felt as if ten bodies wouldn’t have been enough to keep up.

Finally, as the banquet neared its end, he found a moment to himself and sought out Mariel to ask her a question.

“Do you know of someone named Ascon?”

“Ascon? Oh, that elf with anger management issues? Wait, don’t tell me the elf you rescued was him?”

“Is he famous?”

“Of course, he’s extremely well-known. He’s even got a unique talent.”

“A unique talent? What is it?”

“He’s ridiculously resilient. You can hit him as much as you want, and he’ll just keep standing. That’s why all the nobles who tried to teach him gave up. Oh, and he’s great at swearing too.”

“Ah... That’s quite the ability.”

Ghislain nodded thoughtfully. Ascon had been unusually obedient since experiencing the terror of near-death. However, knowing he had such a notorious reputation, Ghislain decided it would be wise to keep a close eye on him.

With the title elevation ceremony and banquet successfully concluded, Ghislain returned to his territory in high spirits.

‘I secured Piote’s commission, obtained the sacred relic, leashed Porisco, got the commander’s position, elevated Father’s title... Damn, how many accomplishments did I rack up this time?’

It had been a while since he’d achieved so much at once. He couldn’t help but feel elated.

When Ghislain returned as a count, Fenris Estate erupted in celebration. Belinda, Fergus, Gillian, and his other close associates were overjoyed.

Knights, soldiers, and commoners alike joined in the festivities, all celebrating their lord’s elevation to count.

Meanwhile, Claude was in a state of shock, unable to say a word.

“What? Supreme Commander of the Northern Army? Count of Fenris? It’s not just our lord who’s gone insane—the whole world’s gone mad. He’s hogging all the good stuff for himself.”

In this upside-down world, Claude was convinced he was the only sane one left.

The uproar wasn’t confined to Fenris Estate. The Northern Fortress, suddenly visited by royal envoys, found itself in complete turmoil as well.