“You want land?”

Zvalter, surprised, repeated Ghislain’s request.

It wasn’t as though he couldn’t give land. It was customary for a lord to reward his vassals with money or land. Since Ferdium lacked money, asking for land seemed like a natural request.

But asking for half of a county’s territory was another matter entirely!

No matter how small Count Digald’s domain might be compared to other counties, it was still sizable. Half of a count’s territory was no trivial matter.

The retainers were just as taken aback by the outlandish demand, blinking in astonishment.

“Come in.”

Ghislain gave a subtle signal, and two mercenaries flung open the doors of the hall.

Homeron frowned secretly. These mercenaries barged in and out of the lord’s hall as if it were some common inn.

‘If it weren’t for the young lord...’

While he grumbled inwardly, the mercenaries wasted no time, spreading out a large map. They were clearly well-prepared for this.

“Ahem, allow me to begin the explanation,” Ghislain said, pulling out a slim baton from nowhere and gesturing toward the map.

“The County of Digald consists of five baronies, excluding the core estate. I will take the three baronies centered around the Fenris Barony, to the north and south.”

Rather than an explanation, Ghislain was essentially giving a confident notification of what he intended to take.

Zvalter, barely able to suppress his disbelief, gave a dry laugh as he stared sharply at the map.

The three baronies Ghislain indicated were positioned along the southern and eastern borders of Digald, adjacent to other territories.

In other words, he was asking for the frontlines.

“Do you have a reason for wanting that area?” Zvalter asked, his voice steady despite his astonishment.

Ghislain nodded energetically.

“Those areas are the borders with other territories. I’ll defend them. If Rayfold attacks Ferdium, I’ll be in position to strike at their flanks.”

He tapped the southern part of Ferdium on the map with his baton, indicating where Digald’s territory met Rayfold’s.

“Rayfold? What does that have to do with this?”

“They’re no different from Desmond. If word about the runestones spreads, they’ll definitely set their sights on us.”

Ghislain had already marked Rayfold as a future enemy.

It was obvious to him that Amelia would eventually take control of Rayfold. Though he wanted to intervene there as well, he was already burdened with more urgent tasks.

He had to prepare for the possibility of Rayfold becoming an enemy at any moment.

The others, unaware of the deeper reasons, didn’t think Ghislain’s claims were far-fetched. After all, he had a track record of extorting money from Amelia.

“Of course, I won’t be able to contain them directly, as Zymbar lies between us. But if they attack, I’ll be able to provide reinforcements from this position toward Ferdium.”

“So, you’re planning to raise an army officially?”

“Yes, relying solely on mercenaries has its limits.”

Zvalter looked at Ghislain with a concerned expression.

“You’re the heir to this land regardless. Once Digald is merged, Ferdium won’t be a small territory anymore. Shouldn’t you gain experience ruling a larger estate?”

“With the current unstable situation in the north, it’s better for me to move more freely.”

If he received the land, Ghislain would not only be the Grand Duke of Ferdium but also the Baron of Fenris.

No matter how grand a duke’s title might be, the responsibility of a lord could not be compared.

“Ruling a territory is no easy task. That land is in worse shape than Ferdium, especially after the war. You don’t have knights who’ve pledged loyalty to you either. And while a few administrators remain, knights can’t be bought so easily, even with money.”

“I’ve already thought of that,” Ghislain replied calmly.

“Hmm, I suppose you’ve never just taken my advice without question.”

Zvalter let out a self-deprecating chuckle, shaking his head.

Managing a territory was tough. It wasn’t something that could be achieved by martial prowess alone, nor could wealth make it simple. A lord needed responsibility, conviction, and the skills to persevere.

Only a corrupt lord who exploited his people wouldn’t face hardship, but Ghislain didn’t seem to have such intentions.

Not that Zvalter would allow such a thing anyway.

At least Digald’s territory didn’t have the same problems Ferdium did. Ferdium had to constantly defend against barbarian and beast attacks due to its proximity to the wildlands. Digald didn’t face those same challenges.

“Very well. Will that be enough for you?”

“Yes, given the lack of administrative manpower, this is an appropriate amount for now. I plan to consolidate the three baronies into one under the Fenris Barony.”

“Haha, ‘for now,’ you say… Just how ambitious are you?”

Even at such a young age, Ghislain had achieved great feats, now laying claim to three baronies with nonchalance. His boundless ambition was almost too much to comprehend.

‘It’s admirable that he’s willing to take the front lines himself.’

Although three baronies were not small, it was territory they wouldn’t have gained if not for winning the war.

Since Ghislain was destined to inherit all of Ferdium eventually, gaining experience managing land early on was a good idea.

Zvalter was a bit concerned about the people living there, but he trusted his son. Surely, Ghislain wouldn’t become a reckless lord at this point.

If the territory’s situation became dire, Zvalter could always intervene later.

“What do you all think?” Zvalter asked the retainers.

The retainers sighed but didn’t answer right away.

This had become their reality as of late—struggling to understand and keep up with Ghislain’s actions.

‘He always informs us without any prior discussion, leaving no room for actual input!’

‘We can’t oppose him, and we can’t even convince him of anything since he holds the runestones.’

‘The lord must feel the same frustration…’

The retainers glanced at Zvalter. He had a faint, resigned smile on his face, as if he’d given up on trying to stop his son and was just seeking approval from his vassals for peace of mind.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Homeron stepped forward.

“Why not just let His Highness do as he pleases?”

He wasn’t sure about Ghislain’s ability as a lord, but on the battlefield, he had proven his worth.

Opposing Ghislain at this point would only make the opposition look foolish.

Homeron, though surprised, wasn’t planning to strongly object either.

His changing perception of Ghislain was proof of that.

Although his worries hadn’t completely vanished, he could no longer see Ghislain as the reckless troublemaker of the past.

The war had significantly lessened his doubts about the young lord.

The other retainers shared similar thoughts.

“If he’s earned merit, he should be rewarded. Bestowing land is appropriate.”

“Someone has to manage those lands anyway.”

“We only need to worry about distributing the remaining estates.”

“He’s saved the territory, so this is a fitting reward.”

“Besides, His Highness is no longer the troublemaker he once was. I think we can trust him now.”

Though Ghislain still tended to act rashly and inform them after the fact, there was now a growing sense of faith in him.

Albert voiced his agreement as well.

“We wouldn’t even have this land if not for His Highness. And frankly, with our current capacity, we can’t manage all of Digald’s territory on our own.”

Ferdium’s administrative strength was too limited to handle the newly acquired lands effectively.

Instead of leaving it unmanaged, it made more sense to let Ghislain, with his resources, handle half of it.

Randolph, who had been observing silently, cast his vote in favor as well.

“His Highness has proven his abilities. Even if his methods are risky... with his skills, I think it’s fine to entrust the south to him. Even with Desmond eyeing us, we can’t afford to neglect the northern borders.”

The retainers knew this was essentially a formality, as the decision had already been made. Still, they went through the motions to preserve appearances.

This was a way to salvage some dignity for both Zvalter and the retainers.

Even the fact that Ghislain had “notified” them in this way was a form of respect for Zvalter and the council.

They accepted his gesture of courtesy, however small, in silence.

Zvalter cleared his throat, clearly a bit uncomfortable with the situation.

“Ahem, very well. You’ve earned it, and with all the retainers’ agreement, I bestow upon you the title of Baron of Fenris.”

“Thank you,” Ghislain replied.

“We’ll arrange a formal oath-taking ceremony on a more auspicious day—”

“We might as well do it now. We don’t need to go through all the pomp and circumstance just for us. It’s a waste of time,” Ghislain cut him off.

“Hmph, well, I suppose that’s a good idea.”

Though father and son shared a close personal relationship, officially, they were now lord and vassal, and something needed to be done to formalize it.

But since Ghislain wasn’t one for formality, and Zvalter wasn’t particularly opposed, they decided to keep things simple.

Before a small audience of retainers, knights, and a few mercenaries, a hastily arranged title-bestowing ceremony took place.

Zvalter, wielding a ceremonial sword, spoke in a solemn tone.

“…In recognition of your great contributions, and with the authority vested in me by His Majesty the King, I, Zvalter of Ferdium, hereby grant you the lands of Fenris and the title of Baron. You shall pledge your undying loyalty, protect the weak, and uphold the law and justice for the rest of your life…”

After a long, tedious proclamation, Ghislain gave a half-hearted response to the question of whether he would fulfill his duties, and the ceremony ended hastily.

In the awkward and somewhat deflated atmosphere, the retainers offered Ghislain spiritless congratulations.

Beyond the open doors of the hall, a crowd had gathered—mercenaries, soldiers, and servants, all curious about the proceedings.

Word had already spread throughout the castle that Ghislain was being made a baron.

As soon as Ghislain got what he wanted, he stood up, bowed briefly to Zvalter, and promptly turned on his heel.

There was no point in lingering any longer.

‘Really, this guy just received a title, and already he’s...’

Zvalter let out a wry laugh, while the retainers exchanged knowing looks, unsurprised by Ghislain’s behavior.

Meanwhile, the mercenaries cheered and crowded around Ghislain.

Belinda, in particular, was ecstatic, practically bouncing with joy.

“Young master! Oh, what a day! Our young master has become a lord! It must’ve been thanks to my early training!”

“Early training...? So that’s why the boss grew up to be such a rascal?”

Belinda glared at Kaor and jabbed him sharply in the ribs with her elbow.

Kaor grabbed his side in irritation.

“What was that for? Now I know where the boss’s attitude comes from!”

“Keep running your mouth and you’ll get more than just a jab...”

Kaor, catching the deadly glint in Belinda’s eye, responded with a mocking grin, his own murderous intent rising to match hers.

“You want to try it? Let’s see who gets hurt first.”

Ghislain clicked his tongue as he watched the two bickering. Thankfully, Gillian stepped in to defuse the situation before it got out of hand.

‘I'll have to deal with them later,’ Ghislain thought.

In the meantime, the area in front of the hall had turned into a bustling scene, as soldiers and knights from the war came to congratulate Ghislain.

Even the maids, once exasperated by his antics, looked at him with newfound admiration, as if he had finally matured.

All Ghislain had done was fulfill his duties without causing unnecessary trouble, yet people’s opinions of him had improved dramatically.

He gazed at the crowd praising him, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.

‘Was it always this easy…?’

Why hadn’t he realized this before?

“Young lord?”

Noticing him standing still, Gillian called out in confusion.

Ghislain quickly adjusted his expression, plastering a smug grin on his face.

“To celebrate my new title, I’m treating everyone today! Our victory banquet begins now! Get the drinks and meat ready—everyone’s invited!”

With exaggerated gestures, he spread his arms wide, encouraging the crowd to cheer.

“Ooooh! The young lord is treating us!”

“Right! We’ve wrapped up the serious stuff, so now it’s time to party! This guy knows what he’s doing!”

“Our baron is the best!”

“Yeah! A party! The baron’s treating us!”

The people shouted in excitement, their cheers echoing throughout the castle.

The retainers inside the hall clicked their tongues and furrowed their brows but eventually shook their heads and let it pass.

Leading the crowd, Ghislain shouted loudly.

“Alright, let’s go!”

The people followed him, chanting his name with enthusiasm.

Their cries were filled with joy and affection, not fear.

“Long live Baron Fenris!”

Baron Ghislain of Fenris. A name that would soon be renowned throughout the kingdom.