Belinda wasnât the only one thinking along those lines. Gillian chimed in to support her argument.
âIt might not happen immediately, but eventually, youâll need to unite all of the North under your banner.â
âWhat is it with you two today, Gillian? Why are you siding with her all of a sudden?â
âThe soldiers in the northern army are already yearning to join Fenris. Even after the war ends and the northern army is disbanded, theyâll grow dissatisfied with their own lands.â
âHm...â
âBy now, theyâve seen how Fenris operates, how its people live.â
âThatâs true. Theyâre bound to make comparisons.â
âExactly. Since joining the northern army, theyâve been eating better than they ever did back in their territories. If theyâre sent back, itâs only a matter of time before they flee their lands and come to us.â
Ghislain nodded. He was fully aware of the atmosphere among the soldiers. More and more were openly expressing their desire to join Fenris.
Gillian raised another point.
âIf it were just the soldiers, it wouldnât be such a problem. But when the northern army is disbanded, there will undoubtedly be bigger issues. There are knights and commanders leading these troops as well.â
When assembling the northern army, Fenris had ensured that no commanders with familial ties to their lords were included. This was to centralize authority.
As a result, those who had been pushed to the periphery of power in their own territories became the commanders of the northern army. Unsurprisingly, many of them now wished to defect to Fenris as well.
It was rare for the desires of soldiers and their commanders to align so completely. And they all harbored grievances against their home territories.
If the northern army were disbanded as things stood, many of these troops could devolve into bandits or incite rebellions.
Seeing Ghislain deep in thought, Gillian added, âThis is the natural flow of the times. Everyone wants to follow you, my lord. If we donât accept them, theyâll only fall into greater despair.â
Kaor, standing nearby, interjected, âHeâs right. Down south, the ducal house has already consolidated everything. Thereâs no rule saying the North canât do the same. Honestly, everyone already wants it. Just march your army, and theyâll all kneel.â
Even Alfoy joined in.
âIn that case, give me a territory too. I want to be a lord. Make me an earl while youâre at it.â
Before he could continue, Vanessa swiftly covered his mouth and dragged him away.
Ghislain clicked his tongue and shook his head.
What had started as a simple effort to defend his land and people had spiraled far beyond his original intent.
He harbored no such grand ambitions. But it was hard to ignore the undeniable tide of history he had inadvertently set in motion.
âWeâll discuss this later. There are more urgent matters to deal with right now.â
The others exchanged faint smiles. Even though Ghislain hadnât outright rejected the idea, they saw it as a victory.
âTheyâve all made up their minds, havenât they?â
Ghislain clicked his tongue again and unfurled a map.
âLetâs focus on the immediate crisis. The plague is spreading, and the lords are refusing to cooperate.â
A messenger from the capital had brought troubling news: many lords were hoarding materials needed for medicine production, intending to sell them at exorbitant prices.
With so many lords engaging in this profiteering, proper medicine production was impossible. The shortage had caused the plague to spread even faster across the kingdom.
Pointing to several locations on the map, Ghislain remarked, âSome people just canât help themselves. Itâs always these greedy fools who end up causing the biggest problems.â
Gillian asked cautiously, âShould we deploy the army immediately?â
âAs urgent as the rifts are, people are dying from this plague right now. We have no choice but to seize the materials by force and produce the medicine ourselves. Iâm not fond of heavy-handed tacticsâI do value freedom, after all.â
Ghislain shrugged as he glanced around the room.
âBut when peopleâs selfishness is worsening the crisis, thereâs no other option, is there?â
The others chuckled. For someone who claimed to dislike coercion, Ghislain certainly seemed ready to enforce his will when needed.
Perhaps, as Belinda had suggested earlier, it would be better for him to simply unify the North sooner rather than later.
Although Marquis Branford had officially banned the trade of medicinal materials in the kingdom, the lords were unlikely to comply so easily.
With the plague sweeping across the continent, hoarding materials or selling them abroad promised immense profits.
Initially, Ghislain had been unsure how to handle the situation.
From the moment the royal court issued its mandate, Count Grafton had aggressively acquired materials. But the medicine he produced had only been distributed in major cities and near his castle.
The rest of the stock was undoubtedly being held for lucrative deals.
âAnyone willing to profit from human lives like this deserves to have it all taken by force.â
Tenant, standing beside Ghislain, offered cautious advice.
âIf the lords retaliate, they might sabotage us in more critical moments. Theyâll undoubtedly harbor resentment for years to come.â
Tenant knew better than most how vengeful the nobility could be; he had lived and worked among them long enough.
âIt doesnât matter,â Ghislain replied firmly. âIf we let this rot fester because weâre afraid of retribution, the sickness will only spread.â
In his past life, Ghislain had seen too many instances where selfishness led to collective ruin.
He couldnât control the entire continent, but at least in the Kingdom of Rutania, he refused to let such recklessness prevail. This kingdom held everything he wanted to protect.
As expected, Count Grafton was basking in self-congratulation.
âHahaha! To think the plague would actually spread! I was skeptical, but look at thisâitâs all true! Fenris and Branford werenât exaggerating!â
One of his retainers, looking uneasy, spoke hesitantly.
âMy lord, the royal court has prohibited all transactions involving medicinal ingredients. Are we truly safe to continue?â
âSo what? They said not to sell the ingredients, but they didnât say anything about selling the medicine.â
âT-Thatâs true, but...â
The retainer wiped the sweat from his brow, deeply unsettled.
Grafton had been producing medicine ever since the first rifts appeared. He had predicted, quite accurately, that the spread of rifts would bring about a plague.
And now, his foresight had paid off perfectly.
The retainer stammered again.
âE-even if the medicine itself isnât banned, selling it openly might draw criticismâor worse, confiscation. With the current chaos caused by the plague...â
âTsk, tsk, tsk! Why so timid? If we tread carefully, we can always sell it to foreign nations. Theyâre in even worse straits than we are since they didnât prepare in advance like us.â
âT-thatâs true...â
âExactly! Why limit ourselves to the kingdom? The world is vast, and the demand for what we have will fetch us unimaginable wealth.â
The retainer, though clearly worried, didnât argue further.
âI suppose we must prioritize the kingdomâs safetyââ
âSave it. Money is made in moments like these. Money doesnât care about sentiment. Do you think we couldâve secured this opportunity if I hadnât acted swiftly?â
The retainers fell silent.
Count Grafton was undeniably shrewd. He had moved faster than anyone else, securing a massive stockpile of materials.
Unfortunately, his cunning came hand in hand with a callous disregard for human life.
The retainer cautiously suggested, âShouldnât we at least distribute enough medicine within the territory to contain the plague?â
âOf course. The soldiers and those near the castle have already received their share. Now, prioritize distribution to the areas that yield the highest taxes.â
âExcuse me? Prioritize?â
âYes. Forget the towns and villages that donât contribute much to our coffers.â
âBut theyâre still part of our territory! If they die, who will pay taxes in the future?â
âTsk, think it through. The profit from selling this stock abroad will dwarf the taxes from those backwater places. Besides, population replenishes over time, and if weâre short, we can always buy more people.â
The retainers swallowed hard, unable to respond.
Count Grafton had already calculated his profits down to the last coin.
âL-Lord Grafton! The Commander of the Northern Army has arrived!â
The announcement sent the retainers into a panic.
Ghislain had arrived, unannounced, at Count Graftonâs estate.