The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 299: Let’s Prepare for What’s Next (2)

The Fenris administrators were busier than ever. With the territory now significantly larger, the workload had grown proportionally.

Many administrators, led by Claude, moved to the newly acquired Desmond territory. Before arriving, Claude had briefly thought, "Wouldn’t dying be better than being buried in work?" But once he stepped foot into the Desmond lands, he was overcome with a sense of nostalgia.

"To think all of this is truly ours now. I never imagined this day would come."

His reaction was far more subdued compared to when Fenris had conquered the Kavaldi region. Back then, he had celebrated wildly, so one would expect him to be even more ecstatic about taking over Desmond, which was far larger than Kavaldi. However, the scale of the achievement was so overwhelming that he struggled to fully process it.

"Is this real? Am I dreaming? Wendy, pinch my cheek... Oh, right, she’s not here."

Claude gazed wistfully around him, memories of his early days in Fenris flooding back. He remembered how, at first, he had mistaken Ghislain for the heir of a grand noble house because of his apparent wealth, only to be bitterly disappointed. He had been dragged to a desolate land, reduced to a slave, and suffered countless hardships. And now... now, this unbelievable day had arrived.

"I mean, I’m still in a crappy position, but... Our lord has actually become a Grand Lord."

Sometimes, when faced with something truly monumental, a person becomes too stunned to react. That was exactly how Claude felt at this moment. He could only think how fortunate he was that Ghislain hadn’t lost. If Ghislain had been defeated, he would have been killed as well.

But his quiet reverie didn’t last long. By the time they reached the heart of the territory, Claude’s confidence began to resurface.

"Ahem, I am now the steward of the Grand Territory of Fenris. From now on, I must carry myself with dignity."

A smile kept creeping onto his face, and he found it impossible to suppress his swelling pride. Sitting in the carriage, he straightened his posture, practiced a dignified expression, and muttered dramatically to himself:

"To all of you who have suffered under injustice and evil for so long, I shall restore righteousness! From this day forward, we will create a new era... Ha, I’m so amazing. Everyone’s going to be moved to tears, aren’t they?"

Claude chuckled to himself, thoroughly impressed by his own grandeur. Oblivious to the murmurs outside the carriage, he missed the chatter of the townsfolk:

"That’s the new steward of the territory, isn’t it?"

"They say he’s the ‘Bribe King of the North.’ Corrupt to the bone and absolutely ruthless. Don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth."

"I heard he’s addicted to gambling. Some even say he’s a lunatic. We should avoid catching his attention."

"Ugh, if the rumors are true, how much is he going to extort from us? I’m already worried."

Completely unaware of the concerns being voiced, Claude entered the castle with an air of triumph.

"The steward has arrived!"

Even as a former slave, Claude held the second-highest rank in Fenris, right below Ghislain. Knights and soldiers waiting outside the castle bowed their heads in respect. Claude, basking in their deference, responded with a haughty nod.

"Ah, good thing I didn’t run away. I’m Claude, the steward of the Grand Territory of Fenris! This feeling is what makes it all worth it."

"Ah, the steward’s here?" Belinda waved cheerfully, standing next to Wendy, who gave a small nod to Belinda before approaching Claude.

When Claude saw her, he teared up instantly and exclaimed dramatically:

"Wendyyyy! Do you have any idea how scared I was without you? Waaaaah!"

With tears and snot streaming down his face, he ran toward Wendy with arms wide open. Wendy, however, quickly pushed his head away, glancing nervously at the soldiers and servants nearby, who were struggling to stifle their laughter.

Wendy bit her lip. She had felt this way before but was now sure—this man had no sense of shame.

"Move... aside."

"Don’t leave meeee!"

Visit frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓ for the b𝘦st novel reading experience.

"Please... just... stop."

Wendy’s face turned red with embarrassment. As an assassin known for her lack of emotion, she found it remarkable that Claude could make her react this way. After a brief struggle, she finally managed to calm him down, and Claude straightened his posture, once again putting on an air of self-importance.

"Ahem, shall we go see the lord now?"

Wendy watched him stride confidently ahead, shook her head, and followed after him.

Ghislain greeted Claude with a wave.

"Hey, Claude. Welcome."

"Hahaha! Congratulations on becoming a Grand Lord!" Claude replied, laughing heartily. Ghislain raised an eyebrow, surprised by his demeanor.

"You’re taking this better than I expected. Weren’t you planning to die to avoid more work?"

"Oh, where’d you hear that nonsense? I wouldn’t die out of spite. Once the territory stabilizes, I’ll live it up, laze around, and die looking fabulous!"

Ghislain gave him a blank look in response to his ambitious plans.

"Well... I hope that day comes."

"Anyway, enough with the greetings... You’ve dealt with the retainers, right?"

"Yeah."

"Got it. That just leaves us to do the dying."

Claude nodded as if this were perfectly normal. No matter how terrifying the task, repetition breeds familiarity. Ghislain was a warlord, after all. He expanded his territory through conquest, and the tasks following a victory were always the same.

"Alright, let’s get to work immediately."

"Good. As always..."

"Yeah, yeah, quickly and thoroughly." Claude waved dismissively, already turning to leave with the ease of a seasoned steward.

"Hey, I wasn’t finished..."

But Claude was gone before Ghislain could finish his sentence. Left alone, Ghislain could only chuckle in disbelief.

"Alright, let’s stabilize the situation and assess our current status. We’ll talk more later."

Claude wasted no time in organizing the administrators and diving straight into evaluating the state of the Desmond territory.

"Last time, I got caught trying to skim too obviously. This time, I’ll be subtle and do it right!"

With a grand sense of determination, Claude began by inspecting the personal wealth of the late Count Desmond. He muttered under his breath:

"Why... is he so broke?"

To be fair, he wasn’t completely broke, but his wealth was about average for a noble, nowhere near the fortune Claude had anticipated. Compared to the opulent treasures of Count Kavaldi, Desmond’s wealth wasn’t even half as impressive.

"Was Count Desmond some kind of saint?"

Not quite. While he wasn’t known for extravagant luxury, Desmond did spend a significant amount on maintaining his noble image. Still unsatisfied, Claude frantically checked the personal coffers of Desmond’s retainers and even combed through the castle storerooms.

"What the hell! Why is everyone broke?!"

Every storage space he inspected turned out to be disappointingly ordinary. To Claude, Desmond had always been the epitome of evil, so he assumed the count would have hoarded a fortune that far exceeded the infamously corrupt Kavaldi.

"Did someone already loot this place?"

His frustration boiled over, but as he sifted through stacks of documents, the truth began to dawn on him.

"Oh, these bastards were serious."

Count Desmond had poured everything—every ounce of wealth from the territory—into the war against Ghislain. Nearly all the land’s resources had been converted into food supplies and weaponry for the war effort.

"Ugh, this stuff is pretty useless to us now."

After Ghislain crushed Desmond’s forces, the supply convoy that trailed the defeated army had surrendered to Fenris. While this did result in a substantial haul of weapons and provisions, most of it wasn’t particularly beneficial. Fenris already had an overabundance of food, and they were in the process of replacing all their equipment with superior Galvanium gear.

Even the surplus weaponry was more of a burden, as melting it down would require additional labor and costs. About the only useful items they obtained were the siege weapons.

"Hmm, we can’t exactly sell off the gear, but maybe we could score some points with the Royalist faction by offering it to them cheaply?"

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much else of value in Desmond. Even the wealth of the territory’s citizens had been thoroughly stripped. On the bright side, the records meticulously documented exactly how much each household had been taxed, as if Desmond intended to repay them in the future.

"So he wasn’t entirely heartless."

While Harold Desmond had ruthlessly confiscated resources, he hadn’t resorted to indiscriminate looting. His aristocratic pride and sense of decorum ensured he maintained some semblance of fairness, however grim.

After completing his assessment, Claude set his priorities.

"Hmm, first things first—we need to distribute food to the residents."

Desmond territory had once been a thriving agricultural hub, producing not only wheat but also a variety of other crops in abundance. However, after selling large quantities of food to Ghislain during the previous conflict and suffering the effects of a drought, the region’s situation had worsened. The war had only exacerbated their troubles, with remaining food supplies being requisitioned for military purposes.

As always, stabilizing public morale was Claude’s top priority when taking over new territory.

When Claude arrived with carts loaded with food, the residents eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and discontent.

"That was ours to begin with..."

"What if they take even more from us? Aren’t they poorer than we are?"

"Damn it, how did we lose to these country bumpkins?"

The faces of the citizens were etched with worry and resentment. They had been promised rewards for their support in the war, and while Count Desmond was feared, he was at least known to keep his word. But with the defeat, not only were those rewards out of reach, but the aftermath of the war had left them even worse off.

Much of their anger was misdirected at Fenris and Ghislain, whom they blamed for depriving them of their rewards. This sentiment was particularly strong among residents of the central regions, where pride in the territory ran high.

Claude scratched his head, puzzled by the chilly reception.

"This is weird. Why does everyone hate us as soon as we arrive?"

Still, he smirked, confident things would turn around eventually.

They’ll come to love us later anyway.

Standing tall, he shouted boldly:

"Fenris will honor the rewards Count Desmond promised you! In fact, we’ll double them!"

"...?"

The residents’ eyes widened in disbelief. They hadn’t expected anything, let alone double the rewards. A finely dressed elderly man stepped forward cautiously.

"Is this true? Do you truly intend to give us twice as much?"

"Of course! I have never told a lie in my life!" Claude declared with utmost confidence.

The crowd’s expressions instantly turned skeptical. Rumors about Claude, ranging from corruption to compulsive lying, had already spread far and wide in Desmond.

Claude, oblivious to their distrust, grew indignant.

"We’ll start the distributions immediately! Temporary stations have been set up throughout the territory—bring the certificates you received from Count Desmond. To streamline the process, all payments will be made in food!"

Hearing this, the residents’ expressions finally brightened. Food was far more valuable to them than other goods. Not only was it immediately necessary, but any surplus could easily be sold to traveling merchants.

As word spread, residents hesitantly flocked to the distribution centers.

"Wow! They’re actually giving it out!"

"It’s even more than we were promised!"

"The Fenris lord is amazing!"

In truth, the identity of their lord mattered little to them. What mattered was how well they were treated.

Unlike other northern territories, Desmond hadn’t yet descended into starvation. Thus, simply providing food quickly stabilized the populace. As Claude watched the situation unfold, he allowed himself a rare moment of pride.

In the impoverished villages on the outskirts of the Desmond territory, the reaction to Fenris’s food distribution was far more enthusiastic compared to the central regions. Unlike the more loyal residents of Desmond’s heartland, these villagers barely knew who Count Desmond was. To them, paying taxes and handing over what little they had when asked was simply a way of life.

Now, however, with nothing being taken and food actually being handed out, their praises for the Fenris lord grew louder by the day.

"See? I told you they’re really giving it away! You should trust me more!"

Claude moved swiftly, touring the territory and personally addressing the citizens to calm their frustrations. This effort noticeably reduced the hostility toward Fenris.

"Hmm, but this is just the beginning of the problems."

Even with the decrease in hostility, the territory’s unrest wasn’t going to disappear overnight. The chaos left in the wake of Count Desmond mobilizing all his forces for war had created a ripple effect.

With tired eyes, Claude presented his latest report to Ghislain.

"We have too many criminal organizations cropping up, my lord. Especially since word got out about Desmond’s defeat, it seems like every ambitious scoundrel in the region is trying to stake their claim amidst the turmoil."

"Criminal organizations?" Ghislain frowned.

"Count Desmond took every last guard with him when he marched to war. Of course, this was bound to happen. It’ll take some time to sort it out."

"Hmm, the citizens must be unsettled by all this."

"Of course. Many can’t even sleep properly because thieves are targeting the food we’ve distributed. Some have already been robbed. We’re not fully in control of administration or law enforcement yet, so the situation remains precarious."

The challenges were expected but difficult to address. Fenris not only had to overhaul the administrative structure but also implement its own systems for governance. That required trained personnel, and while new recruits were steadily arriving, the sheer size of the territory meant that maintaining order was an uphill battle.

"How long will it take to stabilize the area?" Ghislain asked, visibly annoyed.

"We’re doing everything we can, deploying knights and hunters to secure the region, but it’s slow going. The terrain is unfamiliar, and cooperation with the locals isn’t exactly smooth. At least six months, minimum."

"Six months? That’s too long! Do you know how much we have to get done? We can’t waste months just dealing with criminals!"

Claude sighed. "It’s not as easy as just rounding them up. You can’t just walk up to someone and say, ‘Hey, you’re a criminal, you’re dead.’ You know that."

Criminals often thrived by staying hidden and operating under the radar. Wiping them out wasn’t as simple as brute force. Even nobles often tolerated some level of organized crime, provided those groups paid taxes and kept to their shadowy corners. They were occasionally even useful for dirty work.

And even if criminals were apprehended en masse, the process didn’t end there. Each case required evidence, sentencing, and due process. Skipping these steps could create distrust among the citizens.

"Openly executing people without clear justification is just asking for trouble. Some citizens might not even know those caught were criminals, and others, even if they do, will wonder if they’ll be next. Unchecked fear breeds resentment."

This was why nobles often maintained a facade of fairness and legality, even if it was a sham. For Ghislain, appearing as a just lord was essential to his growing power base.

"Hmm... but we can’t just leave them to run wild either, can we?"

"Exactly. We need to reinforce security, establish firm oversight, and maintain constant pressure to suppress criminal activity. Over time, things will naturally stabilize. It’s just a matter of patience."

"Patience? That’s inefficient. I don’t like how long this is going to take." Ghislain clicked his tongue, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Fine. I guess I’ll have to handle this myself."

Claude’s unease was immediate. "Uh... what exactly do you mean by that, my lord?"

"All we need is for the people not to think their lord is arbitrarily rounding them up, right? As long as they don’t see me as the one doing it, we’re fine."

"That’s... true, I suppose."

"Then it’s simple. An eye for an eye, crime for crime."

"...Huh?"

Ghislain flashed a sharp grin as he spoke.

"Bring me my mask. It’s time to deliver divine punishment to these fools."

If no one connected the dots back to him, it didn’t matter. The Plundering King and his Forty Thieves would handle the rest.