Chapter 220: How Many Issues Did You Handle? (2)

Currently, the Lutania Kingdom's army is organized into four corps, which fortify the capital, Cardenia, with an impenetrable defense.

Regional armies are formed by assembling the lords of each region during wartime.

However, the commanders of these regional armies are pre-selected during peacetime to devise strategies for various scenarios. This is far more stable than appointing and directing a commander on short notice.

As such, even though the position of regional army commander is largely titular in peacetime, it comes with one immensely powerful authority.

The commander can summon all the lords of the region during wartime.

And the current commander of the Northern Army was Count Desmond.

Ghislain intended to take that position first.

'If I'm to fight the Duchy later, I'll need that title. It'll also be useful in times of tribulation.'

Although it was little more than an honorary role at the moment, in his previous life, it had wielded tremendous authority.

After the Duke Delphine's successful rebellion, soldiers from all regions were forcibly recruited, weakening the power of the lords and turning the forces into something akin to the kingdom's standing army.

At that time, Harold Desmond, who had risen to the rank of duke, naturally retained his position as Northern Army commander.

Ghislain planned to seize control of the entire northern region, just as Count Desmond had in his previous life.

But Marquis Branford, unaware of future events, was simply baffled by Ghislain's request.

"Do you have a reason for this?"

"Desmond and I are bound to clash eventually. You've seen the current situation, haven't you?"

"He won't recklessly start a war. They must know that, if necessary, we'll deal with Desmond directly."

It was a reassuring statement, but Ghislain didn't fully believe it. The royalist faction could barely hold off the Duchy on its own.

Still, there was no point in bruising the Marquis's pride, so Ghislain shifted the topic with a vague reply.

"After dealing with Desmond, I'll need justification to suppress the other lords."

"Justification?"

"Yes. I'm practically the royalist faction's flag-bearer. I can't keep waging war against the entire northern nobility, can I?"

Marquis Branford nodded several times as if finally understanding.

If there were no civil war, the position would be useless. Without conflict, the commander had no authority to issue orders.

But in the event of a civil war, things changed. A civil war was still a war, and the regional army commander position would provide enough justification and authority to deal with lords in turmoil.

'Desmond Count has already shown his true colors, so I was considering removing him…'

In the south and west, where all the lords had already sided with the Duchy, appointing a commander made little difference.

But in parts of the east and north, which had not yet fallen under the Duchy's influence, resistance remained.

In these regions, even a nominal position like this could not be given to someone aligned with the Duchy.

The north, in particular, was experiencing a fresh wind of change thanks to Baron Fenris, making it all the more urgent to curb the Duchy's influence there.

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

"The position of Northern Army commander, though nominal, wields immense authority during wartime. While removing Count Desmond is necessary, appointing you to that role is an entirely different matter."

"I have already won the war, right? I figured you'd be looking for something else to reward me with—wondering what more you could offer."

Ghislain's audacious response made Marquis Branford chuckle. He wasn't wrong.

Momentum was a key factor in politics. The royalist faction had been steadily sinking under the Duchy's relentless pressure. Ghislain's victory had turned the tide.

Other lords and nobles, previously hesitant, had begun subtly aligning themselves with the royalist faction.

Now there was a sense that the royalist faction wasn't as weak as it seemed.

— "If a northern upstart can accomplish that, what is the true strength of the royalist faction?"

— "Even with the Duchy's might, the royalists won't be easily subdued. After all, the royalists have justice on their side."

— "As expected of Marquis Branford—he deployed the 2nd Corps in time to block Desmond's forces. Rumors are spreading like wildfire that Count Desmond is aligned with the Duchy."

Marquis Branford was not one to let such an opportunity slip by.

A veteran of the political arena for decades, he had eliminated countless rivals. He intended to reward Ghislain handsomely to sustain the current momentum and drag it out as long as possible.

'A good hunting dog… must be fearless and skilled.'

This eccentric fellow certainly fit the bill. Whether he was a loyal hunting dog or a mad beast that might turn on his master remained to be seen.

'If someone has to take the position, this guy is the best option.'

Appointing someone inexperienced to such a high-ranking role would surely spark backlash. Yet, when he thought about it, there was no one better suited for the north than Ghislain.

If he truly defeated Count Desmond, Ghislain would become an unassailable great lord.

'I was considering what to reward him with, and, as always, he shows up at just the right time to ask for exactly what he wants. Such a shrewd fellow.'

Marquis Branford found it hard to refuse. Ghislain always managed to create situations where refusal wasn't an option.

"Fine, I'll give you the position."

Ghislain smiled brightly. He had expected the Marquis to agree, as their goals aligned. Still, he couldn't help but feel pleased when things worked out smoothly.

Having secured what he wanted, he planned to gift some food supplies and return. But the Marquis wasn't finished.

"Since you've seized Count Cabaldi's territory, I'll soon propose your promotion to the royal court."

"I'm not particularly interested in a promotion."

Ghislain meant it. Titles had been necessary for his initial rise but were now irrelevant. If needed, he could seize a dukedom or a kingdom by force later.

But Marquis Branford spoke seriously.

"…The position of regional army commander requires a minimum rank of count. That's the law of the kingdom."

Ghislain scratched the back of his head, looking flustered.

"Oh, is that so? I'm not well-versed in the law… I didn't know that."

"…"

To be fair, this was a man who could live without laws.

Watching Ghislain grin shamelessly, Marquis Branford shook his head.

"Then, since Cabaldi is a larger territory, we could name the title after it…"

"No, I'll stick with Fenris. Changing names confuses people. Besides, I don't like that name. I've already unified everything under Fenris."

"…Fine, have it your way."

Names tied to territories and titles wouldn't disappear overnight, no matter how much Ghislain unified them.

But what could he do? Ghislain was the type to do whatever he wanted anyway.

"The king is currently bedridden, so I'll coordinate with the prime minister to arrange your ennoblement ceremony."

"Sure, I understand."

He had only come for the commander position but now found himself ascending to the rank of count.

It wasn't bad. There was no harm in gaining more than expected—it felt like an unexpected gift.

"You are your father's vassal, yet now you hold the same title and great territory. Count Perdium won't be pleased."

"It doesn't matter. That's not important."

Titles like duke or marquis were ultimately just names. Without power, they were meaningless.

But to Marquis Branford, appearances were everything.

"Even so, how can he appear so inferior to his vassal? It won't look good in the eyes of others."

'…What a relic of the past.'

Marquis Branford, oblivious to Ghislain's thoughts, made a grand gesture.

"I'll arrange for Count Perdium's promotion as well. Consider it done."

"What?"

"Of course, we'll frame it as recognition for the Perdium family's long-standing contributions to the north. The title of margrave already accords them the status of a marquis, so there won't be much resistance."

Though it wasn't a direct favor, it was a move that would appease appearances. Most would see it as an empty promotion.

Still, even an empty title was better than nothing.

'This is… the face of patriarchal nobles, I suppose.'

Ghislain understood, as such gestures were important in this era.

Thus, the once-bordering Perdium family was elevated to marquis family. Ghislain hadn't intended for this, but Marquis Branford's nature wouldn't let him leave things as they were.

It wasn't necessary, but there was no reason to refuse a good thing either.

His father would undoubtedly be pleased.

"Thank you for your consideration."

"When you inherit the territory, you'll become a marquis. Think of it as an additional reward for your achievements."

"If you're giving rewards, couldn't it be something else? The title isn't urgent right now."

While Ghislain wasn't entirely indifferent, he kept his complaints to himself.

"I'll have it expedited. Do you need anything else?"

"That's enough for now. If anything comes up, I'll visit again."

Marquis Branford twitched his lips. This man who never brought gifts always showed up precisely when he needed something.

'If I consider your victory a gift, it's the greatest one I've received in recent times.'

With that thought, his mood improved slightly.

***

The ennoblement ceremony proceeded swiftly. Since Marquis Branford oversaw it, the event was grand and extravagant. The accompanying banquet lasted for several days.

Some nobles at the banquet greeted Ghislain with trembling eyes.

"O-oh, it's been a while, Count Fenris…"

"L-let's work well together…"

"Congratulations… on your promotion…"

These were the lesser nobles and young aristocrats who had subtly mocked him at past gatherings.

Ghislain greeted them with a radiant smile. It was clear they were miserable with envy.

They never expected Ghislain to rise so high.

'They thought I'd be discarded after being used. Instead, I keep rising. It's no wonder they're baffled.'

Though they no longer dared to look down on him, their gazes still betrayed jealousy and resentment.

'The Duchy won't stand idle. Just die already.'

'I hear he's about to face off against Count Desmond.'

'I hope Count Desmond wins!'

It was obvious they were cursing him in their hearts, but Ghislain found them too insignificant to bother with.

Not everyone reacted sourly, though.

Some high-ranking nobles who favored Ghislain sincerely congratulated him.

The Count and Countess Ailesbur, as well as Count Norton, were especially delighted.

"Congratulations! Achieving a count title at such a young age is remarkable!"

"Thanks to your victory, the royalist atmosphere has greatly improved."

"If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll support you wholeheartedly."

"Thank you. I'll count on your guidance and assistance."

As soon as the high nobles left, a swarm of noblewomen surrounded Ghislain. With all the rumors about him, their curiosity was piqued.

Rozalin, who had been standing by his side, was pushed back by the crowd and stumbled to the ground.

She pounded the floor with her fist, gritting her teeth.

'This is infuriating! I'm so angry I could die!'

Even the priests of the Juana Church visited. As soon as Forisco saw Ghislain, he grabbed his hand with a wide grin.

"Oh my! Congratulations, Count Fenris! You truly are worthy of having received the Goddess's revelation with me!"

'Just die, please! Why did you become a count too?! What am I supposed to do?!'

Forisco's inner thoughts were far from his outward performance, which was flawless. His acting was so good that Ghislain could count on one hand the number of people who could match him, even in his past life.

Suppressing laughter, Ghislain responded in kind.

"Oh, you flatter me. It's all thanks to the Goddess's grace."

Thus, Ghislain spent the entire banquet entertaining the capital's elite, barely finding a moment's rest.

When the banquet finally wound down, Ghislain approached Meriel with a question.

"Do you know someone named Ascon?"

"Ascon? Oh, that elf with anger issues? Wait, don't tell me the elf you secured was him?"

"Is he famous?"

"Of course. He's got a unique ability, you know."

"A unique ability? What is it?"

"He's incredibly resilient, doesn't flinch when hit, and has an unmatched ability to endure. That's why all the nobles who bought him eventually gave up on training him. He also swears like a sailor."

"Ah… sounds like a useful talent."

Ghislain nodded. Though Ascon seemed obedient now after experiencing the fear of death, his notoriety made it clear he needed to be watched carefully.

Having successfully completed the ennoblement ceremony and banquet, Ghislain returned to his territory in high spirits.

'I got Piote's assignment, secured the holy relic, collared Forisco, acquired the commander position, and elevated my father's rank… Damn, how many things did I accomplish on this trip?'

It had been a while since he'd achieved so much. He couldn't help but feel good.

When Ghislain returned as a count, Fenris territory erupted into a celebratory mood. His close aides, including Belinda, Fergus, and Gillian, were overjoyed.

Knights, soldiers, and commoners alike united in celebrating their lord's rise in rank.

But Claude was utterly speechless.

'What? Northern Army Commander? Count Fenris? Not only has our lord gone mad, but the world has too. Seriously, he keeps taking all the good stuff for himself.'

Claude convinced himself that, in this insane world, he was the only one still sane.

The uproar caused by Ghislain's news wasn't limited to Fenris territory.

Even the northern fortress, upon receiving an unexpected royal envoy, was thrown into chaos.

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