Medieval Knight System: Building the Strongest Empire Ever!

Chapter 305: The Classic Road to Ruin

Hand-picking and appointing someone myself is best.

Ability aside, by the standards I’d set, loyalty and conscience carried the most weight. Besides, these men were ordinary nobles, not knights, which made them the type who desperately needed opportunities.

That’s why they had joined the interception force without realizing it was a cesspool and nearly gotten themselves killed. For the desperate, opportunity is that precious.

"Our family served as a duchy knight family for seven generations, but my father was stripped of his knighthood, and now he works as a low-ranking bureaucrat at the south gate of Breisburg."

"Stripped of his knighthood? What in the world did he do?"

"...He got involved in gambling. It was all because of debt."

Beort’s face was dark with shame.

Oh dear, if it’s gambling, there’s nothing to be done. That’s the classic road to a family’s ruin. So he had his reasons for struggling so hard to raise his family back up. Drek and Ferke sympathized with Beort’s plight.

He was the eldest (twenty years old), and the more we talked, the more I could tell he had a composed temperament. He spoke articulately and was fairly knowledgeable. His father had raised him well, it seemed.

A family that had lasted seven generations was impressive in its own right. In the cutthroat world of nobility, even making it past three generations is no small feat. But that damned gambling had dragged them down, and Beort had nearly lost his life.

Beort had the desire to restore his family’s prestige and rise in the world, but opportunities had been hard to come by. So if I gave him that opportunity, he would show me unwavering loyalty.

Next, Drek told me his history.

"I’m originally from a vassal family of Marquis Offenburg’s house."

"A vassal family? Did you come to the capital because you were dissatisfied with how the family treated you?"

"I was the second son and planned to become a knight, but my older brother died suddenly, so I became the heir. Then my father passed the title to the youngest. So, well, I had no choice but to leave."

"...I don’t know what to say to that."

"Heh heh heh, it was a shitty deal, but what can you do?"

By default, Beren’s succession law follows male-preference primogeniture, but succession can be designated at any time by will. Of course, in such cases, notarization by the Church is mandatory.

It’s one of the Church’s main sources of income, you see.

So the fees are no joke. The fact that Drek’s father had made the designation anyway, despite the cost, meant that in the father’s eyes, his rightful heir was deeply untrustworthy. And so Drek, despite being the legitimate successor, was pushed aside in favor of the third son.

I’d have said to hell with it and left too.

His vassal cavalry were mostly commoner friends who’d followed him since childhood, but sadly, most of them had died in the battle. He said he was normally talkative, but he was in low spirits because of his friends’ deaths.

He was smiling on the outside, but I could sense a deep sorrow underneath.

The Manager Scouter, too, displayed his current mindset as "grief."

Next was Ferke, who seemed like a noble properly schooled in court etiquette.

"I am the sole surviving blood relative of a cadet branch of a court viscount’s family."

"What happened to the rest?"

"They died of illness, and my younger brother was killed in this war."

"...My condolences."

His brother’s death had left him all alone in the world. That sense of loss must have been immense. I remember when I was first left all alone in this world, too. My homesickness flared up so badly that I spent points to buy beef stew.

I still sneak some for myself now and then, but it’s not as desperate a craving as it used to be.

Time will take care of Ferke’s and Drek’s grief on its own.

Right—grief is something time heals.

"You’ve all been through a lot."

"But may I ask why you gathered us here?"

Beort asked cautiously. I’d called them together under the pretext of building camaraderie, but from their position, it was understandably strange for me to be showing them such favor. After all, the full moon pays no mind to fireflies.

He seemed wary of my goodwill, but a noble ought to have at least that much vigilance. Just as I didn’t trust the princes, these men admired my reputation but didn’t trust me completely.

"I called you here to build camaraderie, yes, but also to make you a proposal. There’s no penalty if you decline, so there’s no need to be so tense."

Telling them to relax wasn’t going to actually relax them, but the mood needed a gentler touch. If anything, I liked how they stayed careful and deliberate instead of getting swept up in the atmosphere.

If they’d snapped at the bait the moment I dangled it, that would have been its own problem.

At the very least, they were nobles who knew to be wary of goodwill offered without reason.

"On that battlefield, you were the only nobles who sent me support. The rest were too busy saving their own skins to spare a thought for the allies guarding their backs."

"Once you stand on the same battlefield, isn’t supporting your allies only natural?"

"It is. The problem was that everyone else was a bastard who wouldn’t do even that natural thing."

"To think we stood on a battlefield with men so devoid of responsibility..."

Beort downed his wine, looking hollow. He finally understood why the interception force, which had considered itself in no way inferior to the Bavarian vanguard, had been so pitifully annihilated.

Drek’s and Ferke’s expressions darkened too.

They seemed to be thinking of their dead brother and friends.

"As you know, I’m slated to be granted a new fief. Whether it turns out to be Rosenheim or somewhere else, I’ll receive a reward staggering enough to make the nobles’ eyes burn with greed."

"Um, that’s actually why the prevailing mood among the nobles has been to bad-mouth you, my lord."

"I’m sure. But now that the marquis has decided to take my side, I can afford to ignore them."

Even without knowing the full details, they accepted it at the mere mention of the marquis taking my side. And that meant there were no more obstacles. They listened intently, expectation building.

"When a fief grows, you naturally need managers to govern the outlying estates by proxy, don’t you?"

"I understand the small estates attached to Breisburg are managed by the Administrative Department."

"Correct. Which is why I intend to give the opportunity to you three, who’ve passed my minimum standards."

The idea of recruiting talented commoners to run a fief, regardless of social rank, is a common one, but it comes with formidable hurdles.

For starters, a commoner carries no authority of his own, and without borrowing my name, getting anything done would be enormously difficult. Even an estate manager could be brushed aside out of hand simply for being a commoner.

Nobles are a breed born with authority and intimidation built in, so selecting those among them with ability and good character and placing them as estate managers was the far smoother method.

Above all, their level of education was vastly higher.

The Scouter tells me a person’s information, but it doesn’t classify anyone as a talent. In the end, I have to judge that myself and develop an eye for it. Hence the minimum benchmark: a positive disposition.

A positive disposition puts a good head to good use, while a negative disposition puts a good head to bad use. So by my standards, these were worthy talents in their own right.

"If you give me the opportunity, I will devote myself completely!"

"Crossing paths with you, my lord, is the greatest fortune of my life!"

"Please, lead us!"

Overcome with emotion, they swore their loyalty to me, swept up in fervent zeal. Starved for opportunity as they were, their desperation made their sincerity plain. But there was a condition.

"I don’t care whether you learn from a bureaucrat or hire someone to teach you. Use any means necessary and study up thoroughly on what an estate manager does. I’ll give you the opportunity, but making the most of it is on you."

Of course, I’m not running a charity, so I wanted talents who could handle an estate manager’s work with certainty. If you don’t know something, you learn it. And that condition sparked heated competition among them.

A man with a negative disposition would envy his rivals or scheme to eliminate them, but these men at least had the temperament for healthy competition. If competition could push them up a level, all the better.

Even if they didn’t end up as estate managers, there were plenty of places to put them to use. And there were plenty of vassal noble seats to fill. So far, my only vassal nobles were Military Officer August and Vice Commander Viktor.

Hmm, come to think of it, the grand duke seems to want Fiel.