Zubaltor's eyes were filled with emotion and trust as he gazed at his son.

"You’ve grown so much, more than I could’ve imagined. I never thought I’d see you like this."

He patted Ghislain's shoulder in encouragement.

Watching from the side, Homern cleared his throat and began dispersing the gathered crowd. Even as they were told to leave, the citizens continued to chant Ghislain's name for quite some time. Only after the soldiers guided their families away did the area finally fall silent.

Ghislain also sent the mercenaries back to their quarters before entering the castle. Just as he was about to head to his room for some rest, Zubaltor stopped him.

“What happened with the surrender negotiations? Let me see the proposal.”

It was time to distribute rewards. Zubaltor had already prepared a list of appropriate rewards based on the contributions made during the war, but the amount of compensation they’d receive would affect how much excess they’d have to spare.

Zubaltor’s question was half-filled with worry and half with anticipation. Ghislain, with a bright smile, responded bluntly.

“There isn’t one.”

“No proposal? Why?”

“I killed him.”

Zubaltor blinked, trying to process what he’d just heard. Ghislain’s attitude was so casual that Zubaltor had to ask again, just to make sure he wasn’t mishearing things.

“What? You killed him? Really?”

“Yes.”

Zubaltor’s face darkened.

“Did you forget what I told you?”

“No, I didn’t forget. I simply decided it was better to end things quickly after assessing the situation.”

“End things quickly? What do you mean by that?”

“If we accepted their surrender, they’d come after us again eventually. It’s better to prevent future trouble before it arises.”

Zubaltor sighed heavily.

He had specifically warned his son, fearing he might cause trouble, and of course, Ghislain had done just that. But seeing his son covered in dust from battle, Zubaltor swallowed his scolding.

“…”

What could be done now? It wasn’t entirely unexpected, and after seeing his son had yet to even rest after the war, Zubaltor decided it wasn’t urgent enough to push the matter.

“Rest for now. We’ll discuss this later.”

Shaking his head, Zubaltor patted Ghislain’s shoulder and walked away, his back slightly slumped with weariness.

The next day, a large assembly gathered in the great hall, with people from all ranks attending. It was time to distribute the war rewards.

“Begin,” Zubaltor commanded.

Homern stepped forward and began a lengthy speech about the glory of their victory, his words filled with enthusiasm. However, the longer he spoke, the more the crowd's expressions dulled with boredom.

Zubaltor, noticing the waning interest, cut Homern off mid-sentence.

“That’s enough. Let’s move on to the rewards.”

The rewards had already been calculated based on the merits each person had earned, so the process went quickly. They started by rewarding the lowest-ranked soldiers.

Next came the administrative officers who had managed supplies and maintained the estate during the war. Finally, the knights, the backbone of Peridum’s forces, were awarded according to their contributions.

“I now announce the second-class honorees: Knight Commander Randolph, Martial Captain William...”

The commanders were named second-class honorees. In other circumstances, these individuals might have been named first-class honorees, but no one found it strange or complained.

After the second-class rewards were handed out, the crowd’s anticipation grew. There was still one person left—the most important figure of all.

All eyes turned to Ghislain, the true hero who had led them to victory.

Everyone was curious to see what kind of reward he would receive.

“Step forward, Ghislain Peridum!” Homern announced.

Ghislain stepped forward and knelt on one knee. The hall fell silent as everyone focused on the young lord and his father.

Zubaltor savored the moment of silence before standing up from his seat.

“By unanimous decision, the first-class honor goes to none other than Ghislain Peridum. It would not be an exaggeration to say that this victory was thanks to him.”

The knights and soldiers who had witnessed Ghislain’s actions on the battlefield nodded in agreement. Some of the council members frowned, still unable to fully believe the tales they had heard, but they couldn’t deny the overall consensus.

“As such, we award Ghislain a sum of 2,000 gold.”

A cheer erupted from the crowd.

“Wow! 2,000 gold! That’s incredible!”

“That’s enough money to live in luxury for the rest of your life!”

“The young lord definitely deserves it!”

The crowd buzzed with excitement, unable to contain their amazement. The total amount of gold awarded to everyone else combined didn’t come close to 2,000 gold. For most people, this was a sum they could never hope to touch in their lifetime.

On the other hand, Belinda, Gillian, and Kaor, who were standing off to the side, exchanged puzzled looks.

“…”

Ghislain, seeing the triumphant expression on Zubaltor’s face, gave his father a pained smile.

‘Is the estate really so poor that 2,000 gold feels like a fortune?’

People who lived frugally all their lives couldn’t help but think small when it came to spending money. Ghislain understood that, so he didn’t make a fuss about the reward being insufficient in front of everyone. He could always get the real rewards later.

While the honors and rewards ceremony ended, the post-war issues were far from over.

Once the hall had cleared out, leaving only the core council members, Zubaltor turned to Ghislain with a conflicted expression and asked, “Was it really necessary to kill the Count of Digald? They had already overextended themselves in the war, and their forces were wiped out…”

“Do you really believe that?”

“…”

Zubaltor couldn’t respond immediately to Ghislain’s sudden question.

“Digald couldn’t have mobilized that many troops on their own. They had outside support. You’re aware of this, aren’t you? You know why Count Roges never showed up.”

“…Yes, I do.”

Zubaltor’s voice was heavy with resignation. Ghislain continued firmly.

“That’s why I killed him. Even if the claim was fabricated, the House of Digald still had a pretext to attack us. As long as they’re alive, those who orchestrated this will use them to attack us again. Digald needed to be eliminated entirely to buy us some time.”

“That may be true, but…”

“Moreover, most of the northern territories consist of independent earldoms rather than fiefs. This is a rare opportunity to expand our domain without the usual bureaucratic hurdles.”

“Hmm…”

Zubaltor let out a discontented hum, unable to hide his unease.

His son was always chasing after extreme efficiency. While that wasn’t inherently a bad thing, centuries-old customs couldn’t be ignored.

The thought of the backlash from other nobles and the flood of protest letters already gave him a headache.

“We could have settled for receiving compensation or imprisoning him. Besides, we don’t have the capacity to manage that territory on top of our own.”

It wasn’t that Zubaltor was against expanding their territory—quite the opposite. The problem was their current reality.

Peridum was already poor, and merging with an impoverished Digald would only double their poverty. They were barely scraping by, waiting for compensation from Digald to cover their costs, and now they had to manage the Digald estate as well.

To stabilize Digald, they’d need to pour resources into it rather than take any out.

“Don’t worry. We still have the Runestones. I’ll help you get both estates back on their feet as quickly as possible.”

“Do you really have enough?”

“I do.”

“…Fine. You’re not wrong. If we can absorb Digald, we’ll become stronger. The situation has already unfolded, so I suppose we’ll have to go along with it…”

Zubaltor’s face showed concern as he looked at his son.

“I’ll be honest with you—I’m worried. Your actions are becoming more and more extreme.”

“…”

“Try to be more cautious. You know how dangerous the other nobles and lords can be.”

If Ghislain continued to prioritize efficiency above all else, it would inevitably lead to resistance from those around him. In the long run, that could cause even greater harm.

The established powers were not to be trifled with.

It was better to make compromises along the way rather than turn everyone into enemies.

Zubaltor was gently warning him of this.

Ghislain, understanding the nature of the aristocracy, nodded in agreement. His father wasn’t aware of the future and was simply acting based on the present reality.

“I’ll try.”

“Hmm…”

Zubaltor sighed, knowing full well that his son’s words probably meant nothing would change.

But at this point, he couldn’t scold him freely anymore.

Ghislain’s abilities had grown beyond Zubaltor’s control.

‘How did this happen?’

His son had grown so quickly, and keeping up with his rapid development was proving difficult. It was both troubling and heartening at the same time.

What parent wouldn’t be proud to see their child grow so much?

‘Perhaps it’s just youthful exuberance making him so extreme.’

The situation was already done, and Zubaltor couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride.

As a father, he had to express concern, but deep down, he was happier than anyone else.

“I said all that because I’m worried. Don’t take it the wrong way. You’ve done well—very well. Now that the war is over, rest for a while. We’ll be holding a victory feast soon.”

Zubaltor was about to leave when a sudden thought struck him.

‘Wait… if that’s the case, we’re not going to receive any compensation… are we?’

A new problem arose in his mind.

Peridum was pitifully poor.

The plan had been to pay the rewards with the compensation they’d receive from Digald.

But now that Digald had become part of Peridum, there was no compensation to collect. Instead, they’d need to pour money into Digald to get it running.

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

Zubaltor asked the treasurer, Albert, who looked at him with a blank expression.

“We don’t have any money.”

“No money?”

“Not a penny. Why are you surprised? We used everything we had for the war. We’ve never had money to begin with.”

“…Then how will we pay the rewards?”

“Weren’t we planning to use the compensation from Digald?”

“…Yes, that was the plan.”

The joy of victory was quickly fading.

While they could delay paying the council members, the knights and soldiers were different. The longer they delayed the rewards, the more morale would drop.

Rewarding contributions was the foundation of loyalty. War bonuses were one of the most obvious ways to show appreciation for their service.

“We have to reward those who earned it!”

Zubaltor clicked his tongue, looking at his advisors as if expecting them to come up with a solution.

However, all eyes turned to Ghislain.

Everyone seemed to have something to say but couldn’t quite get it out.

Peridum’s richest man. The one who had promised the Runestones.

And the sole first-class honoree.

“Ahem, well… Ghislain, could you… give us the Runestones first?”

They couldn’t even reward the first-class honoree—they needed to borrow money from him instead.