Knight: Becoming King of the World

Chapter 149: Chapter 128: Are You Happy?

"My Lord, I’ve sent the Record Keepers to fetch the latest records for tax revenue and grain consumption. The comings and goings of Nasu’s and Buer’s caravans have also been documented."

As soon as he finished speaking, several Record Keepers entered carrying ledgers. They arranged the books neatly on the desk in front of Henry, gave a respectful bow, and silently withdrew from the study.

Henry’s gaze swept over the ledgers. Tommy, standing by his side, began to explain in detail the developments at Westwood Laine Castle in the two months since Henry had marched out to intercept the Mercenaries.

"My Lord, during your absence, the autumn harvest in the villages and farms was a great success. We brought in over two million pounds, enough to support the ten thousand people in the domain. That’s not including the output from berries, pastures, and the like."

Henry nodded. This was mainly because the weather this year had been exceptionally favorable for crop growth.

And while two million pounds sounded like a lot, Henry still needed to buy a large number of serfs to enclose more land. It was enough to say they weren’t short on food, but they were still a long way from being flush with cash.

’And I have Count John to thank for that.’ Soon, Count John would be sending over a hundred thousand in reparations and ransom money.

’I’ll use that money to buy serfs—I’ll have to get at least several tens of thousands of them—and purchase a great deal of livestock, build a great number of houses, and construct wide roads.’

’What’s the point of one or two Knight’s domains? If people saw that, they’d think I, Henry, have no ambition. If I’m going to do this, I’ll build several Baron’s Domains! Let’s see who’s the real power in these grasslands!’

As for whether he was overreaching, Henry didn’t think so. In fact, he felt he was being quite cautious. If the Emperor hadn’t interfered, he would have already captured Count John and taken half his fortune.

Tommy waited for Henry to finish his thoughts, then flipped through a ledger and continued, "In addition to the increase in grain production, our commercial activities have also grown significantly. Nasu’s and Buer’s caravans travel frequently from the Autongard region, with new ones arriving almost daily."

"Our market is bustling every day, which has also attracted some new merchants and artisans to settle in Westwood Laine Castle."

This was all what Henry had hoped to see. A prosperous market not only brought in more tax revenue but also attracted a larger population.

As for Nasu and Buer, as long as they did their jobs well, they would be greatly rewarded. But if they caused trouble, they would meet the same end as Pedro.

"Tommy, we can’t be content with the status quo. Issue quotas to the farms for winter wheat, barley, radishes, and potatoes. We need to continue expanding grain production through the winter. Only then can our population and food supply continue to snowball."

Tommy nodded. As the Minister of Internal Affairs, he would do everything in his power to support Henry’s decisions and help him achieve his goals.

For other nobles, the Minister of Internal Affairs did the work of a butler. Here, under Henry, the Minister of Internal Affairs did the work of a Minister of State Affairs.

Henry was reassured. With Tommy here, the internal affairs of Westwood Laine would be capably managed. And he, in turn, would have more energy to focus on military matters.

Now was the time to be bold. To simply bury their heads in farming would be suicide.

The atmosphere in the study lightened. The two chatted for a while about Henry’s recent battles, his capture of Ximira Castle, and his upcoming trip to the southern desert, which greatly surprised Tommy.

"My Lord, you’re leaving again?"

Tommy had thought that this time, Henry would stay until spring at the very least, which would give him a chance to relax.

He never expected that he would have to continue facing so much administrative work all by himself. ’This is going to kill me.’

Henry noticed Tommy’s fatigue and asked, "How many Record Keepers are working under you now?"

"Twenty men, My Lord. The quota is full."

Henry waved his hand magnanimously. "Then I’ll give you a quota for thirty more. Delegate all that running around to more people."

"Tommy, from now on, you are the Civil Servant of Westwood Laine. Everything except for security and the garrison falls under your management."

Tommy quickly bowed. "My Lord, please spare me. It’s not a matter of how many Record Keepers I have, it’s that there are too many different matters to attend to. I can only handle a few hundred things a day. I need someone who can make decisions with me."

Only then did Henry realize that if Tommy’s burden was too heavy, he would also be afraid of making mistakes.

"Just do your work boldly and with confidence. I won’t blame you. You and Claude are the only talents I have in administration. You need to shoulder more of the responsibility."

Hearing this, Tommy could only accept the post of Civil Servant. He recalled the joyful expression he wore last year when he and Claude first arrived from Feikawen.

The memory of him teasing Claude about being fated to a life of toil as Minister of State Affairs was still fresh in his mind.

"Tommy, prepare to mobilize a thousand serfs. I need to train new soldiers."

Tommy’s heart skipped a beat. Turning a thousand serfs into soldiers wasn’t just a matter of food; it involved a whole series of logistical issues like weapons, equipment, and training grounds.

His heart began to pound as he felt an unprecedented amount of pressure.

"My Lord, isn’t... isn’t this too rushed?" Tommy’s voice trembled slightly as he tried to persuade Henry to reconsider.

Henry waved his hand, cutting Tommy off. "I know your concerns, but we’re out of time. The situation in the empire is growing more and more unstable. I must build up my strength as quickly as possible."

"I will definitely be taking these veteran soldiers with me, so I need to leave some troops behind to serve as a garrison for Westwood Laine Castle and Ximira Castle."

Tommy lowered his head. "I will see to it at once, My Lord."

Tommy left the study, his back straight, looking completely refreshed. ’A Civil Servant! I’ve been promoted again.’

This time, Henry had given him a quota for thirty more Record Keepers. The number of people under his management had grown once again.

He thought back to his days serving Henry’s father, when he had all this talent but no way to use it, just wasting his life away. Now, he was finally getting a taste of real power.

The only thing was, Henry’s tasks came one after another. The moment one was finished, a new batch would arrive.

Not long after Tommy left the castle, Henry, dressed in a tight-fitting imperial robe, took his original armor and weapons to the blacksmith’s forge. He had the smiths rework the armor to fit his current build.

The black helmet and armor were fine, but they were too heavy. Once he put them on, he couldn’t fight on horseback.

After giving his instructions, Henry decided to take a stroll through the town. Tommy was right; the market at Westwood Laine Castle had indeed become more prosperous.

New merchants and craftsmen had flocked here, bringing with them all sorts of goods and skills.

The market was filled with fresh vegetables, fruits, meats, and dairy products, as well as exquisite textiles, pottery, and ironware.

The calls of the vendors and the haggling of customers made Henry feel that the place had come alive.

With the encouragement and support of Henry’s policies, many craftsmen had established workshops in the domain.

The CLACKING of looms, the POUNDING of hammers, and the WHIRRING of potter’s wheels became the background music for the domain’s economic development.

These workshops provided more employment opportunities for the local residents, preventing too many of the new settlers from becoming unemployed.

Henry could tangibly feel the real change among his subjects in the domain; their mood was generally positive and optimistic.

Craftsmen bustled in their workshops, their skills recognized and respected. Merchants in the market served customers enthusiastically, their businesses booming.

The Free People moved between the stalls, picking out the goods they needed. Women holding baskets discussed which stall had the freshest vegetables.

Children, under the watchful eyes of their parents, curiously observed all kinds of novel wooden toys and candies from the Autongard region.

In one corner of the market, a few of the Free People were gathered around a stall selling cloth.

The stall owner was a middle-aged woman who had moved here from the Chai Kan region with her husband. She skillfully displayed bolts of cloth in various colors and textures, eagerly describing the features of each one to her customers.

A young woman, accompanied by her mother, was carefully selecting fabric for her upcoming wedding.

Elsewhere, a few newly arrived Free People were haggling with a potter, whose stall was filled with a wide assortment of clay pots, plates, and bowls.

The Free People were full of praise for the pottery, and although the prices weren’t cheap, they were still willing to open their purses.

This was because they had worked for a few days as temporary laborers at a construction site in Westwood Laine, earning a little money to improve their quality of life.

The self-employed farmers from other villages parked their fruit-and-vegetable-laden carts at the market entrance, busily arranging fresh produce on their stalls.

One farmer was showing off his home-grown persimmons to a passing customer, pointing to the bright red fruits and saying proudly, "I grew these myself. They’re delicious! Not many people grow these in the grasslands."

Another group of self-employed farmers was selling their poultry at the market. Stalls were filled with chickens, ducks, and geese, which, cooped up in cages, let out an occasional cry.

A farmer was pitching his chickens to a man, pointing to the plump, spirited birds. "Look at these chickens, I raised them with care. The meat is tender and delicious. Buy a few to take home, I guarantee your family will be singing their praises."

The man was conflicted. Such a luxurious purchase was something he would never have dared to even think about before.

Now he was an apprentice at a blacksmith’s shop in Westwood Laine, and his income was much higher than when he had been a porter. Although he had some spare money, this still felt too extravagant.

The sights of the town were pleasant, but Henry only strolled down a couple of streets before heading back. His subjects were simply too enthusiastic.

Henry’s tax on the Free People was only three Su for every Dinar of income. The grain tax for self-employed farmers was only six percent, and for tenant farmers, it was eight percent.

The tax on merchants and artisans was only twenty percent. Other nobles would have loved to tax these people who opened shops and workshops at a rate of fifty percent!

’Who wouldn’t love a lord who lets his people fill their pockets and build their savings?’