Ch.708Manor Business [Revised]

After sending the completed victory report with the messenger heading to the capital, there was still an overwhelming amount of work to be done.

Though I wanted to return to the Empire immediately, as the temporary commander-in-chief of the Imperial Army, I had a duty to ensure the safety and peace of those who had become Imperial citizens.

After driving out the Ka’har, these three cities had expressed their intention to completely align with the Empire. They claimed they could no longer trust the Dane.

While this might seem unfair to the Dane garrison troops who had belatedly returned, the city residents openly despised the Kingdom of Dane and its army.

“They collected taxes diligently, but when it came time to protect us, they tossed their duty aside like an old shoe,” they said.

That’s why, even after the Ka’har threat disappeared, instead of returning to being citizens of Dane, they preferred to be incorporated as new Imperial territory.

For the Empire, this meant gaining three direct-control cities, but in other words, it meant that the Empire—specifically, I—had the duty to take responsibility for all of them.

That’s why I couldn’t leave this city.

Not until I restored an environment where they could live with peace of mind, or until officials were dispatched from the homeland to manage the city.

…It wasn’t an easy task. My specialty was wielding a sword, not running a city.

—-

“There’s no food?”

“Yes. Because they burned almost everything except for two days’ worth, fearing the Ka’har would seize it…”

The administrative officer in charge of supplies bowed his head with a troubled expression. He said we would all starve if measures weren’t taken.

Food incineration. If I hadn’t arrived, it would have been a desperate measure to cut off the Ka’har’s supplies, but now it meant our own supplies were cut off.

“Request support from everywhere around us. Not just Imperial territories, but Dane territories too—anywhere possible. Promise that the Empire will pay for the grain.”

“About that… I’ve already made such requests, but the nearby territories are demanding outrageous prices for grain. Almost equivalent to the same volume in silver ingots.”

“…Are they insane?”

There should be limits to price increases. This was practically saying they wouldn’t sell at all.

“They know our food situation is dire, so they’re trying to profit from it,” Sean explained, standing beside me as my aide.

Since the Imperial Army claimed to be here to save the people of Dane, they figured we wouldn’t attack them, so they planned to make a hefty profit.

…Well, I understood that much.

My profane exclamation wasn’t because they inflated grain prices, but because they dared to pull such a stunt against me.

Ah, perhaps they didn’t know yet. That with Ludwig dead, I had become the commander-in-chief.

That would explain such audacity. Ludwig’s public image was that of a dignified middle-aged nobleman, so they probably thought he would handle their boldness in a “noble” manner.

Then I’d have to teach them.

That the person they were dealing with wasn’t a dignified middle-aged nobleman, but a sword-wielding brute who left bloodshed wherever he went.

“Tell them again. If they don’t want to see me in their bedroom in the middle of the night, they should behave. Tell them I don’t care about pretenses.”

I sent the King of Panam that way, and the King of Dane too. What’s a mere lord compared to that?

If they don’t want to die in their sleep, they’ll quietly hand over the grain.

—-

Whether my message was properly delivered or not, soon after, most of the lords from nearby territories sent wagons full of grain. They called it free support for the Imperial Army and their fellow countrymen.

Moreover, they generously provided not just grain but also reconstruction materials like timber.

As expected. As always, expressing one’s true feelings without pretense was the most effective method of persuasion.

—-

Of course, not all lords agreed to provide support willingly. Fools who only shed tears when they see a coffin are common everywhere.

“Count Lastchiv has rejected our request for support and sent a reply. However, its content…”

“…That he would welcome me with open arms if I wanted to spend the night in his bedroom? Is he insane?”

I shook my head as I burned the reply I had torn in half.

I couldn’t believe someone would still speak to me this way. Either they had no sense of reality or they had completely lost their mind. I wasn’t so much angry as I was dumbfounded.

“Lastchiv is known to be particularly hardline among Dane nationalists. He means he would rather die than do anything that benefits the Empire.”

“…Then I should grant his wish. How could I ignore such an invitation?”

That night, one count’s mansion disappeared, melting like lava in a “mysterious fire.”

Surprisingly, the only casualty was the count himself.

Everyone else had apparently gone out for a “night walk” and thus escaped the flames. That was the official statement, at least.

Of course, those who heard the news would clearly guess who was behind it.

I spent five days handling various matters like this.

“The reconstruction budget for the southern district…”

“Charge it to the Imperial House. Tell them it’s His Imperial Majesty showing compassion and care. It will naturally inspire patriotism where there was none.”

I passed money problems to Leopold.

He would handle it well. That’s what an emperor is for.

“The military priests have requested a memorial service for the victims.”

“Make it finish within a day since we lack time and manpower. But don’t do it carelessly—make it thorough and solemn.”

If we were going to hold a memorial service, it had to be done properly.

Even if the time was short, everyone who participated should feel that the Empire sincerely mourned their deaths.

“How should we proceed with the funerals for Lord Ludwig and Sir Frederick?”

“Those should be held after we return to the Empire. Stitch up the bodies properly and freeze them to prevent decay.”

Their funerals needed to be grand. They should be properly held in the capital, not in this half-destroyed city.

Allies of high status deserved appropriate honors. Otherwise, there would be too much gossip circulating.

“Sir Joshua has awakened!”

“That’s good news. Tell him to rest until he’s fully recovered.”

Even if he had awakened, he wouldn’t be able to move right away. So, for the time being, he needed to be confined to bed. It would be troublesome if he pushed himself and suffered aftereffects.

Me? I’m fine because I’m young.

After wrestling with paperwork for about five days, things started to go more smoothly than expected.

They say you get used to anything once you start doing it, and administrative work was no exception.

It might also have been because the administrative officers Ludwig left behind were extremely capable.

—-

Among these matters, there was also this:

“Someone named Burgunt has requested an audience…”

“Who is that?”

“He’s the commander-in-chief of the Dane garrison. He was recuperating after being severely wounded by Warlord Ibamai.”

I didn’t know such a person existed. I had only seen Ibamai fighting the Valkyrie. He must have been the one who held off Ibamai until the Valkyrie was summoned.

“Bring him in.”

The knight who saluted and left the office soon returned with a middle-aged man who looked like a typical Dane. Judging by his appearance, he should have been in a hospital bed rather than invited to my office.

He must have received treatment from healing priests, but since the priests prioritized treating Imperial citizens, they probably didn’t put much effort into treating this man who belonged to Dane.

“You asked to see me?”

“Yes—I mean, yes, Lord Margrave of Landenburg.”

“Temporary Margrave, for now.”

Once I returned to the Empire, I would immediately be officially recognized as Margrave, but my official status was still just a temporary head of house, substituting for the absent head.

In other words, I was a Margrave (in progress).

“So, what’s your reason for wanting to meet me?”

“I heard rumors that a coup occurred in Edriksa, and King Hestein and Prince Ragnar were assassinated. Is that true?”

Ah, so that story had reached here.

“It’s not quite accurate to call it a coup… it would be more precise to call it the suppression of a rebellion.”

I explained the detailed circumstances to Burgunt. Of course, it was the story Hrafin had created, far from the truth.

“Knut, Knut… You mean the Crusader who pioneered the Mimisbrunn ruins? This is the first time I’ve heard he was a collateral branch of the royal family…”

Burgunt looked at me suspiciously.

His eyes were full of doubt, as if asking, “Didn’t you kill Hestein and Ragnar and spread false rumors?”

Well, that’s half right. Ragnar did kill Hestein, but most of the other rumors were lies.

But so what?

What can you do with your suspicions?

You’re just defeated soldiers crushed by the Black Banner Army.

Are you planning to rebel because you can’t accept Knut? Not a chance.

What would be the point of rebelling with the few remaining troops, a garrison full of wounded soldiers?

“If someone of your rank knew about it, Ragnar would have assassinated him long ago. Dane’s national treasure, Dainslief, has accepted the new king as its master. What more proof do you need?”

“…None, sir.”

Burgunt bowed his head.

He must know too. Whether he doubted or trusted the rumors, he couldn’t reverse what had already happened with his abilities.

“If you have nothing more to say, you’d better return and rest. You look like you can barely move.”

“There are a few more things I’d like to ask, if it’s not too presumptuous…”

“Go ahead.”

After that, Burgunt politely bombarded me with various questions.

He asked if the garrison troops who originally defended this place could remain stationed in the city after their treatment was complete, about the treatment of Church of Volberg priests within the city, and about the Imperial Army’s withdrawal plans.

“Well… it depends on the situation.”

I gave appropriately vague answers.

I said the garrison troops’ stationing would be decided by a vote of the city residents, that we planned to relocate the Volberg priests to other territories, and that no withdrawal schedule had been set yet.

Burgunt’s expression hardened, seemingly unsatisfied with my answers, but he didn’t raise any objections. Probably because he guessed that objecting would be pointless.