Upon closer inspection, Robson’s face darkened. At some point, Huang Na had climbed onto the dining table and was now tearing at a piece of Magical Beast Meat.

What noble gathering would be complete without Magical Beast Meat?

"Huang Na? What are you do—" Robson was about to scold her when the notification from his system panel rang in his ear.

"DING! Huang Na has consumed Magical Beast Meat. +2 EXP."

’Huh? It has that effect?’ Robson was stunned. He’d eaten Magical Beast Meat before, so how come he never knew it could grant experience?

"Ah, Robson, come quick! This meat is delicious! I can feel the energy inside nourishing my body!"

When Huang Na saw Robson, she immediately beckoned him over to enjoy the feast with her.

After spending the last two days with him, Huang Na had decided that Robson wasn’t so bad. If nothing else, he provided three meals a day, and she got to eat meat from beasts with magical bloodlines every day.

Unfortunately, that meat was merely from creatures with magical bloodlines, not true Magical Beast Meat. It couldn’t compare to what was being served at this banquet.

’After some thought, Robson understood. Ultimately, it came down to the different ways their two races trained.’

’Magical beasts grow powerful just by becoming physically strong. Humans are different; they either temper their Life Seed or their Sea of Consciousness.’

’When he ate Magical Beast Meat, the energy didn’t go directly to his Life Seed, so naturally, he gained no experience.’

"Go on, eat up. Eat as much as you can. We can pack up whatever’s left," Robson said with a smile.

He hadn’t expected to stumble upon such a perk. Since eating meat could increase Huang Na’s power, Robson was more than happy for her to eat her fill. It was no problem to pack up the leftovers, either. Due to the constant threat of the Beastmen, the nobles of the Frank Kingdom were quite pragmatic; there was no shame in it.

"Robson, there you are!"

Viscount Fuman walked over, accompanied by a splendidly dressed middle-aged nobleman.

"Sir Robson, I’ve heard so much about you."

The nobleman extended a hand. Robson was confused.

"This is Viscount Luke from Akxsi Province. He’s from the Gutierrez family," Viscount Fuman introduced.

Robson understood at once. He gave Viscount Fuman a grateful look before extending his own hand to shake Viscount Luke’s.

’Viscount Fuman must see my potential. He’s starting to help me expand my network.’

The Gutierrez family was one of the truly great noble houses in the kingdom. The highest-ranking member was a Marquis who currently held a post in the Royal Capital.

Those great noble families often supported lesser nobles who shared their name, and Luke was one of them.

Compared to other noble houses, the Gutierrez family’s members were more tightly connected. They shared another bond: a commerce association, the Gutierrez Commerce Association, one of the four largest in the kingdom.

As it happened, Viscount Luke’s domain and Robson’s own Knight’s Territory were both in Akxsi Province. Although Viscount Fuman had made the introduction, he was really just acting as an intermediary.

"Sir Robson, do you have any thoughts on where you might serve next?" Viscount Luke asked.

’Hearing this, Robson knew Viscount Luke’s investment strategy: he’d offer military supplies in exchange for a post for one of his family’s scions.’

The nobles in the south of the Frank Kingdom were typical: plenty of money, but few soldiers. Due to the threat of the Beastman Empire, the majority of the kingdom’s military resources were allocated to the north.

Though the Southern Nobles had money, it wasn’t omnipotent. They couldn’t just go and purchase military supplies in bulk from other kingdoms, could they? What nation would ever allow that?

Never mind the monarchs of other countries; if they dared to try, even Louis III would have sleepless nights.

"That’s hardly for me to decide. I will naturally follow the arrangements of the front-line military command and the Marquis," Robson said with a smile.

The implication was clear: Robson didn’t have the power to make such arrangements. If Viscount Luke wanted to place one of his own under Robson to coast to some military honors, he would first have to arrange a post for Robson himself where such honors were easy to come by. Lord Robson wanted his share of glory, too.

"Well, it’s like this. I have a young man in my family who has long admired you, Sir, and wishes to serve by your side. I was wondering if you might need a Knight Commander to lead your charges?" Viscount Luke replied with a smile.

A Cavalry Commander? Robson’s heart sank.

’Judging by Viscount Luke’s age, his son couldn’t possibly be an experienced veteran. He was probably just a boy.’

In the Frank Kingdom, adults taught their children about the knightly spirit from a young age, telling them legendary tales of the Knight King and their human ancestors.

As a result, a young Frank noble aspiring to be a Cavalry Commander was basically the equivalent of a hot-blooded, dramatic teenager from Robson’s past life—the type who idolized heroes like Ultraman and Armor Warriors.

It wasn’t all bad, of course. The advantage of these types was their earnestness; when trouble started, they’d be the first to charge in. But sometimes they couldn’t read the situation and would let their zeal get the better of them.

Viscount Luke’s specific mention of "Cavalry Commander" was likely a hint to Robson, a warning that this young man would be difficult to manage.

"Well... a Cavalry Commander is no problem, but unfortunately, I don’t have any cavalry under my command," Robson said, putting on a troubled expression.

’Of course he had cavalry, but so what? His cavalry were precious. Why would he hand them over to some second-generation rich boy to use as a training tool for free?’

"That’s easily solved. As it happens, I have 500 pure-blooded Northern Frank horses, and 300 sets of cavalry equipment...

...I would only ask that once they are trained, you assign 50 elite cavalrymen to my family. You know how it is—it’s unsettling to be on a battlefield without any men of your own," Viscount Luke said with a chuckle.

The Southern Nobles’ reputation for having nothing but money wasn’t an exaggeration. The horse trade was usually controlled by the Northern Nobles, making it difficult for southerners to raise cavalry on a large scale.

Only in situations like this, when the kingdom needed the Southern Nobles to provide reinforcements, would those military grunts in the north reluctantly part with some of their supplies.

But by then it was too late, as the Southern Nobles had no experience training cavalry.

Viscount Luke had already made inquiries. This Sir Robson was apparently a genius at training soldiers. Who could have imagined that the elites under his command had been nothing but a group of useless Peasants just a few months ago?

Viscount Luke knew that Robson had his own cavalry; that was precisely why he had confidently approached Robson to make this deal.

As for whether asking for only 50 cavalrymen was too little to be worth it?

In truth, sometimes the most important thing wasn’t the number, but simply having them in the first place. Besides, 50 cavalrymen was not a small number. After all, when cavalry charged into enemy formations on the battlefield, it was often a one-way trip. They were a high-attrition unit.

"In that case, Viscount, you can wait for my good news," Robson replied with a smile.

’As it happens? What a coincidence. Viscount Luke just "happened" to know that he could train cavalry, and he also just "happened" to have 500 horses. Not only that, he also "happened" to have 300 sets of equipment. What a series of incredible coincidences. A conversation between gentlemen requires few words.’

Compared to what Viscount Luke was offering, his terms were completely acceptable to Robson.

It was just a matter of babysitting a kid. The biggest cost was the 50 cavalrymen, but that wasn’t a major issue. Besides, it wasn’t like Viscount Luke could tell how elite the cavalry truly were.

Moreover, given the average standard of Frank Cavalry, Robson only needed to grind his cavalry to Tier Two for Viscount Luke to feel he’d gotten his money’s worth.

After all, Tier Two Frank Cavalry were considered proper cavalry.

As a border Commander-in-Chief, even the cavalry Count Offman gave his own son were just Tier Two. And even if they were new recruits, they were still soldiers.