Chapter 83. Viscount Wolfskrig (2)

What is the driving force that moves an army?

It probably isn't just one thing.

Some say it's patriotism, a sense of duty, a desire for victory, the courage to protect one's family, and so on.

Those who take a more realistic view might mention the fear of death, an addiction to plunder, a twisted sense of justice, or a brainwashed sense of national superiority.

Neither is wrong.

War is a giant cauldron where the complex psychologies of countless people are mixed together like a stew.

If there is a good heart, there is also an evil one.

Of course, I know well enough from my short experience and knowledge that the latter is more common.

However, what is often overlooked is the fact that none of those things can be the ‘real’ driving force that moves an army.

They might serve as the flint that strikes the spark.

But to maintain the blazing fire for a long time, fuel is needed.

Fuel is supply.

In this era, supplies come from the fief.

A rich and powerful fief creates a strong army and increases the chances of winning a war.

And if you were to ask what the most important resource from a fief is, I could answer without hesitation.

Food.

“It’s a poor harvest.”

The farming had failed.

“It’s because of the necromantic mana that the vampire heretics spread.”

“The weather was good. It rained well during the rainy season, and then there were some sunny days now and then….”

“There’s no problem with the soil quality. Perhaps because it hasn't been farmed for a long time, the fertility itself is very good.”

A clergyman in priestly robes, a middle-aged old man, and a young man wearing thick-rimmed glasses spoke in turn.

They were a priest in charge of communication with the residents, an elder of the local farmers, and a scholar included in the support personnel from Count Maenenwood, respectively.

“To sum up, the vampire contamination is the problem.”

The scholar said, pushing up his glasses.

It had been well over half a year since I left Wolfskrig.

During that half-year, farming had already been done once.

The bizarre southern weather meant that the rainy and dry seasons alternated twice a year, but thanks to that, rice could be planted and harvested twice a year.

In technical terms, I believe it's called double cropping.

“The next planting?”

“The seedbeds have grown well, so it's about time to start transplanting the rice seedlings. But as the priest said, the land is in no condition….”

The problem was the contamination.

Land permeated with the mana of vampire necromancy.

In such contaminated land, various side effects occur.

If a corpse is left unattended, it becomes an undead, a faint toxicity accumulates in food and drink, and crops fail to grow properly.

“That's strange. Didn't the subjugation army purify all that necromancy contamination back then?”

“That was only inside the city, old man.”

I could hear the centurions sitting in the corner of the meeting room whispering.

During the recapture, a large number of chaplains were mobilized to purify Wolfskrig.

The problem was that with the civil war breaking out soon after, they only managed to purify the area inside the city walls.

Anyway, the conclusion was that the last harvest was a failure.

They said they barely managed to save enough seeds for the next planting, let alone have rice to eat.

Fortunately, the residents who came to the pioneer city were able to get by because the imperial family distributed money and support supplies for a certain period.

However, it was almost a year since the city was recaptured.

The support from the imperial family was also showing signs of being cut off.

Above all, the fief now had a lord.

Being an owner means taking on responsibilities as well as benefits.

“Your Lordship, I've heard that wheat and barley were once cultivated in Wolfskrig. How about cultivating contamination-resistant barley as the main crop….”

“I wonder. Do you think barley can withstand the southern weather?”

“…No, sir.”

The bespectacled scholar tried to come up with an alternative, but I rejected it.

Barley is weak in the rainy season.

The temperature is also too high.

Above all, the yield itself is lower than rice.

It would be like throwing away all the geographical advantages of the southern fief of Wolfskrig.

Most importantly, for this problem.

I had already prepared a solution.

“Your Lordship! Your Lordship!”

A paladin rushed into the meeting room.

It was Tambourine.

“Urgent news from Burken Fortress. An army is coming to Wolfskrig!”

“An army?”

“It's an army of the church. They say it's composed entirely of priests and paladins.”

Fortunately, it seems they arrived just in time.

***

On the first day of my visit to the Imperial Capital.

The first place I went to was the church.

It was to request the church's support.

To be precise, it was to make a deal.

‘The grapevine endures the midday sun and the moonlit dew for a year, and presents the grace of Luark, who created the universe, as sweet fruit. Enjoying the products of nature well is also the will of Luark.’

I briefly doubted my own common sense when I saw the archbishop saying that while chugging wine worth dozens of gold coins from the bottle.

Anyway, the discussion itself went well.

Perhaps because he was at the pinnacle of church power.

Archbishop Walter already knew about my enfeoffment.

And also that I was receiving Wolfskrig as my fief.

‘Commander Ash is an honorary paladin. He is our brother. If it’s non-combatant priests, they will volunteer for ‘as long as you wish.’’

He said he would send priests for free, without any appropriate ‘donation.’

Saying that he hoped for a good relationship in the future.

Of course, I would have to take care of the stipends for the individual priests myself.

For reference, I briefly mentioned the bottle-chugging incident when I stopped by Burken village and met Alina.

‘The Archbishop’s words are correct. I was taught that Luark does not see drinking itself as a sin. As long as you do not depend on alcohol instead of Him, or harm others through drinking. However….’

‘However?’

‘It means that if I am to have a secret meeting with a noble person at night in the future, I must procure wine worth several dozen florins.’

‘?’

‘It can’t be helped. You have become a hero, after all. I will do my best. Although I serve Luark, unlike in the Theocracy, there is no law that requires me to shun money. If all else fails, there is also my grandfather’s help….’

I remember hastily changing the subject of the conversation.

No.

Was Alina always like that?

In the game, she only appeared as a fallen saintess, so there was no way to know her original personality.

Anyway, the promised priests arrived.

A force of a whopping six hundred people.

Five hundred priests to handle the purification work.

One hundred paladins to escort those priests.

“It’s understandable to mistake it for an army.”

As Damas said, it was practically a church army.

To travel safely in this chaotic world, that level of military force would be necessary.

I assigned lodgings to the priests and paladins and informed them of the work details.

The work here was to purify the entire fief.

“The area inside the city walls was almost completely purified during the last subjugation. The immediate priority is the farmlands. Since planting is just around the corner, I ask that you focus on the agricultural lands outside.”

“The agricultural lands, you say? Understood.”

“Yes, please prioritize the agricultural lands, and then the pastures after that.”

“We will also offer a blessing prayer for good crops.”

Perhaps because the archbishop took care of it.

They were certainly priests who lacked nothing in either character or ability.

Seeing them approach the farmers without hesitation to greet them, and rolling up their sleeves to help with the rice transplanting during breaks from the purification work.

Of course, even so, they were outsiders, so they needed people to inform them of the local situation and cooperate with them.

I attached a few priests from the Wolfskrig and Burken churches.

I appointed Tambourine as the manager.

“Yes?! Me?”

“Yes, you can do it, right?”

“I-I will try! I will report daily through Administrator Bart!”

I don't know what old man Brol fed him for two months, but the downcast fellow's spirit had revived a bit.

I believe he will do well.

He’s a friend with potential.

Didn't he lead the fanatics quite successfully in the Battle of Wolfskrig?

If he could do that much with people he couldn't even communicate with properly, he should be able to create an even better synergy with cooperative priests.

“Thank you for the opportunity.”

Tambourine, bowing his head deeply, ran to the site.

At times like this, it is strange.

We started on bad terms, if anything.

You really can't predict what will happen in a person's life.

‘Isn’t that what life is all about, master? That’s why a life that flows leisurely is the best. Hehehe….’

‘Tick-tock…….’

“……”

Let’s just ignore the Outer Gods who seem to have collectively returned to farming.

The farmland contamination problem was solved, but that wasn't the only problem with this fief.

It was a city that had been neglected for a full three hundred years.

A fortress city that had fallen into the hands of vampires and was used simply as a defensive base and an undead storage warehouse.

Neither the buildings nor the roads could be in a normal state.

It has already been almost a year since its recapture, but so far, all that had been done was maintenance.

In the beginning, Archduke Gabir, and later, a few administrators dispatched from the Imperial army and the Imperial court, had only temporarily managed it.

“The blacksmiths must have their own separate street. We've had enough friction with nearby residents due to the noise.”

“Please build cabins for the hunters to rest safely.”

“How long must the mercenary guild use a temporary building?”

“I heard a lot of construction materials have come in. If you distribute them well, we can use them to build the necessary buildings one by one….”

Cattlemen, blacksmiths, tanners, stonemasons and carpenters, merchants, mercenaries, hunters, and so on.

I gathered the representatives of the people who made up the city and put our heads together.

Honestly, my desire is to proceed swiftly by the lord's command.

However, there was Olif's advice.

Although the decision-making power lies with me, the lord, there's a world of difference between pretending to listen like this and not doing so.

“Let’s build a system centered around the guilds. As the stonemason guild leader said, we have the support of Count Maenenwood, so let's start by laying the groundwork for the infrastructure with this.”

The meeting continued for several days.

In the game, it would have been over with a few clicks and a look at the event window, but reality is different.

Even fixing a single span of road leads to a difference of opinion over the profits that will come from it.

Because I, the lord, am present, they don't bare their teeth at each other for now, but it will be a different story when they get to the site.

On the other hand, it was still a relief.

If there had been nothing to eat in the first place, they wouldn't have bared their teeth.

If this city had seemed hopeless, this many people wouldn't have gathered.

Everyone is hoping for the revival of this city.

With the added desire for their own success.

“Phew….”

‘You worked hard, master.’

I only got off work after reaching a rough consensus.

Although there is a lord's castle, my lodging is in the barracks, the old mercenary band building.

Actually, I wanted to hold the meeting in the barracks too, but I refrained.

This was also Olif's counsel.

The place where the lord conducts his business has a symbolism of its own.

“Greetings, Your Lordship.”

“Yes, good work.”

I passed the guards and entered through the main gate.

It was a well-decorated courtyard and garden.

It felt like just yesterday that the building had no door and was covered with a large cloth.

Old man Poodle and his wife were more skilled builders than I thought.

In half a year, the mercenary band headquarters had been completely transformed.

The lodgings had their furniture neatly rearranged in each room.

An armory, as well as warehouses, a blacksmith, and stables were also built.

A large wall was built around the perimeter to create a boundary, while the inside was well-decorated so as not to be bleak.

The building itself wasn't newly built, but it felt like a different building somehow.

For reference, the training ground was also well-decorated.

When I peeked in, Randal was training with his soldiers.

I entrusted the 3rd company to him in place of Damas.

Damas was in charge of the 1st company in place of old man Brol.

Old man Brol was moved to the intelligence department separately.

Of course, old man Brol is also an excellent commander, but I thought entrusting him with an intelligence organization would better suit his aptitude.

Of course, on the surface, I gave him the title of Captain of the Guard.

If he was the Captain of the Guard, it would be a plausible excuse to meet him to report intelligence.

Openly saying ‘I am a spy’ is a foolish thing to do.

“Ah, Viscount Ash.”

One round of sparring had ended.

Randal saw me and greeted me.

“The meeting must be over.”

“A little while ago. But did you also learn to go easy on people during sparring?”

Randal smirked.

“If necessary. With a stronger army, we'll fight stronger enemies, won't we? I want a fight.”

“What about when you sparred with me?”

“Didn't I go easy on you? I had no intention of killing you.”

“……”

Is that so?

The first axe throw was filled with killing intent.

So much so that [Warrior’s Insight] reacted.

Well, it’s just curiosity.

It’s definitely not a grudge.

“When do we fight?”

“A fight?”

“Yes, a fight. Didn't you promise to let me fight?”

As expected of a fight addict.

It seems he's already getting antsy after just two months of peace.

It's unfortunate for him, but for the time being, I plan to focus on developing the fief.

“Wait a bit.”

“Understood.”

Saying that, I went up to my quarters.

I didn't know at the time.

That Randal's wish would be fulfilled before long.

***

A month passed.

Wolfskrig changed rapidly.

The best news would be that the rice transplanting was successfully completed.

The rice seedlings, transplanted from the seedbeds, began to grow vigorously, receiving plenty of rain from the rainy season's downpours.

“The farmland purification work is complete.”

It was thanks to the priests.

The skilled priests advanced the purification work in an instant.

The farmland purification, which I thought would take at least three months, was finished in just a month.

My thanks once again to our drinker… no, our Archbishop.

“The pasture area should also be finished in a month. Where should we purify next?”

“The rangers are searching for candidate sites for new farmland to be developed during the next dry season. I'll ask you to work on that area.”

The problem arose from there.

“Your Lordship, I have something to report.”

The very next day after receiving the report on the successful purification work of the priests, Karen came to see me with a serious expression.

“The rangers have gone missing.”

‘Master, that Tick-Tocky fellow. Its belly has turned red again.’

At the perfect moment, the sacred relic of the Maiden Who Heralds the Time warned of an ill omen.

There was no room for doubt.

It was an attack by an external force.

“Convene a meeting of the officers.”

It was about time to replenish my forces, anyway.