Chapter 85

Chapter 85: I’ll Go Negotiate (4)

Zwalter’s gaze was filled with emotion and trust.

‘You’ve succeeded this much already. I never could have imagined seeing you so imposing.’

“You’ve worked hard. Truly, you’ve done well.”

He patted Ghislain on the shoulder in encouragement.

Standing nearby, Homerne cleared his throat a few times, and then dispersed the gathered crowd.

Despite being told to return home, the people of the estate continued to cheer for Ghislain for quite some time.

It wasn’t until the soldiers intervened, escorting the families back home, that the surroundings finally quieted down.

Ghislain sent the mercenaries back to their camp and entered the castle.

Just as he was about to return to his room to rest, Zwalter caught him from behind.

“How did the surrender negotiations go? Let me see the draft you brought.”

They had to distribute rewards soon.

Although they had already decided on appropriate compensations based on merits, the amount of reparations they could secure would affect the surplus funds.

Half-worried and half-expectant, Zwalter posed the question, and Ghislain answered with a bright smile, his tone refreshingly direct.

“There is none.”

“No negotiation draft? Why?”

“I killed them.”

Zwalter blinked for a while, trying to make sense of the words.

Ghislain’s demeanor was so confident that Zwalter wondered if he had misheard.

“What? You killed them? Really?”

“Yes.”

Zwalter’s expression hardened.

“...Did you forget what I told you?”

“I didn’t forget. I just thought it would be better to settle things quickly once I got there.”

“What do you mean by ‘settle things quickly’?”

“If we accepted their surrender, they’d come for this place again. It’s better to prevent such nuisances ahead of time.”

Zwalter sighed deeply.

He had specifically cautioned his unruly son, fearing that he might cause trouble. And, sure enough, when trouble struck, it struck big.

He was about to scold Ghislain, but upon seeing his son’s dust-covered appearance, he swallowed his words.

“......”

What could he do now that they were already dead?

It wasn’t as if this was entirely unexpected, and it wasn’t urgent enough to reprimand his son, who hadn’t even had a chance to rest after the war.

“For now, get some rest. We’ll talk about this later.”

Shaking his head, Zwalter lightly patted his son on the shoulder before walking away.

For some reason, his shoulders and back seemed to sag with weariness.

* * *

The next day, a large crowd gathered in the grand hall, regardless of status. It was the day of the rewards ceremony.

“Begin.”

At Zwalter’s command, Homerne stepped forward.

He began his speech by passionately explaining how glorious their recent victory had been.

However, as his words dragged on, the people’s expressions gradually dulled.

Noticing the growing boredom, Zwalter abruptly cut Homerne off.

“That’s enough. Let’s proceed with the rewards.”

Since they had already organized the contributions of those who distinguished themselves while Ghislain was away, the award ceremony proceeded swiftly.

The rewards began with the lowest-ranking soldiers.

Next, the administrative officials responsible for ensuring the continuation of the war and managing the estate received their rewards.

After that, it was the knights who were considered the backbone of the estate. Based on their accomplishments, they were given appropriate amounts of money and positions.

“The second-class merit honorees will now be announced. Knight Commander Randolph! Master of Arms William...”

The commanders were recognized as second-class honorees.

Under different circumstances, the names being called out now would have been first-class merit honorees, but no one found it strange or voiced any complaints.

Even after the rewards for the second-class honorees were completed, people remained in their seats, their faces filled with anticipation.

The most important individual was still left.

All eyes were on Ghislain.

Zwalter’s eyes were filled with concern.

“Honestly, I’m worried. Your actions are becoming more and more aggressive.”

“......”

“Restrain yourself a little. You know how dangerous it is to cross the other nobles and lords, don’t you?”

Pursuing only efficiency would inevitably lead to clashes with others.

In the long run, it would cause significant harm.

The existing powers were not to be underestimated.

Rather than turning everyone into enemies, it was better to yield occasionally.

Zwalter pointed this out.

Ghislain, who understood the ways of the nobles, quietly nodded in agreement.

His father was merely acting realistically because he couldn’t see the future.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Mm...”

Zwalter let out a groan. The way Ghislain spoke made it clear he would continue to act on his own whims.

But even if Zwalter wanted to reprimand him, he could no longer do so freely.

Ghislain’s abilities had now surpassed Zwalter’s influence.

‘Ha... how did it come to this?’

His son had grown up so suddenly that it was difficult to keep up with the lightning-fast changes.

Though it was complicated, part of him also felt proud.

What parent wouldn’t be happy to see their child grow beyond their grasp?

‘Yes, he’s aggressive, but that’s because he’s still young.’

What had already happened couldn’t be helped.

In truth, Zwalter felt more joy and pride than anyone else.

As a father, he was only nagging out of concern.

“I’m just saying this because I’m worried, so don’t take it too hard. In any case, you did well. Really well. Take some rest now. We’ll be holding a victory banquet soon.”

As Zwalter pondered ways to stabilize the territory, a sudden realization struck him.

‘Wait... doesn’t that mean we can’t receive compensation immediately?’

A new problem emerged.

The Ferdium estate was miserably poor.

From the start, they had planned to use the compensation from Digald to distribute rewards.

But now that Digald’s land had been incorporated into Ferdium, they couldn’t extract much money from it to keep things running.

“Albert... how much money do we have left?”

When Zwalter asked, Albert, the treasurer, responded with a confused expression.

“We have no money.”

“None?”

“Yes, not a single penny. Why are you asking this now? We used up all our resources because of the war. We’ve always been broke.”

“...Then how do we handle the rewards?”

“Didn’t we plan to cover that with the compensation from Digald?”

“...Right, we did.”

The joy of victory quickly dissipated.

While it might be fine to delay paying the retainers, that wasn’t the case with the knights and soldiers.

The longer they waited to receive their rewards, the more their morale would drop.

The belief that loyalty would be rewarded was the foundation of their allegiance. Battle rewards were one of the most tangible forms of “compensation.”

“We must reward those who achieved merit!”

Zwalter clicked his tongue and looked around at his retainers. He was silently pressuring them to think of a solution.

However, all their eyes turned toward Ghislain.

It was clear they all had something to say, but no one dared to voice it.

The wealthiest person in the estate and the one who had promised the Runestone.

And the one and only hero of the hour.

“Ahem, ahem! Ah, my throat feels a bit sore.”

Zwalter, clearing his throat again, smiled awkwardly, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Well... Ghislain? Could you perhaps lend us the Runestone a little earlier?”

Instead of rewarding the greatest hero, they were now in a position to ask him for money.