For many, war was a straightforward calculation. Using violence against an enemy could result in either victory and increased wealth or defeat and a loss of resources.

In colloquial terms, that wasn't too far from the truth, but anyone who'd ever had to organize an excursion, much less an army, would know that it was so oversimplified as to be pointless.

No, war was a highly complex phenomenon, where countless moving parts had to stay in sync, and if even one of them went out of place, the entire system would be affected, and the scales would tip in the enemy's favor.

There was a reason why every army had a ladder of command, and it wasn't just to give powerful old men titles to ply their more important subordinates with.

People were needed for every task, from caring for the horses and latrine duty to strategic planning. Eugene, as the newly crowned Lord of the Western Border, had taken on the role of the overall leader and commander of the vanguard.

He was the battering ram who would take down any obstacle in their way, using his sheer strength and skill to overpower any resistance.

But while his role was vital and things would have been much worse without him, he wasn't the key to the entire operation. No, that responsibility belonged to the one person he trusted more than anyone else, who he knew without a doubt would make sure everything went smoothly and could handle any problem that arose back in the center of their power, growing their resources to ensure a steady stream reached his vanguard force.

That person was Elena.

"Sometimes, I think we would have been better off if he hadn't ranked up," she sighed as she leafed through the umpteenth ledger that needed revision.

With the rapid progress her husband's forces had made, especially after securing a foothold in the lower mountains by taking over a dwarven camp, she ended up reducing her sleep even more. There was just too much to do, and that didn't even include properly guiding their town's growth as more people flooded in.

"He might still have been sent up north, and he'd be much more at risk then," Darien grunted from the smaller desk opposite her, stamping another paper and adding it to the pile he'd accumulated.

"He would have," she acknowledged, "I'm just complaining for the sake of it. It's the only pleasure I have left, since my husband and children abandoned me."

The grizzled lieutenant, who served as her husband's second in command, rolled his eyes, "If you keep acting like an old lady to amuse yourself, you're gonna end up stuck like that."

Elena gasped theatrically, grabbing the painted fan she had bought the other day specifically for this purpose and fanning herself as if to recover from a great shock, "Why, I never?! I am a Baroness, I shall let you know, and am bereft of all my loved ones!"

Before she could go on much longer and see if she could make Darien throw his hands up and leave a little faster today, and hopefully beat her record of six minutes, a knock interrupted her scene, and a soldier peeked into the study. "My lady, there is another one."

Suddenly, all amusement faded from her, and a predatory expression took over her features. "Oho? Then I shall be there in a couple of minutes. Have then moved to the usual sitting room."

The soldier nodded and stepped back, while Elena stood up, tossing her fan onto the desk and looking out the window. A line of carts loaded with supplies was being maneuvered into the back courtyard, out of the way.

"That expression suits you much better," Darien said without bothering to look up.

Tilting her head slightly, Elena saw her reflection in the glass window, and the dangerous glint in her eyes made her smile before she deliberately softened her features.

A huntress knew when to demonstrate strength and when to feign weakness, and these merchants appeared eager to fall for her act of ignorance.

Without another word, she left, not needing to instruct Darien any further, since he had been with her since they started building the Barony's new bureaucracy.

I'll probably need to teach Eugene a few things when he returns. Everything's moving quickly, and since news spread that the Baron was away on campaign and his wife was left to handle all the opportunistic merchants wanting to set up shop in the West's new major trade hub, we've received a flood of applicants.

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Not everyone was as greedy and foolish as some, and those who had packed up their entire lives to move to Floria and build a new future for themselves were rewarded with a choice among the new constructions going up in the expansion of the market district. However, sometimes someone would see a lone woman struggling with too much and think they could squeeze her for everything she had.

That seemed to be the case today, as Elena entered the sitting room she had prepared for meetings like these and found two men waiting for her.

The fact that she came as soon as they sat down showed she was a novice at this, since nobles liked to display their power over merchants by making them wait for long hours.

That, combined with her being alone, ignited an unhealthy greed in their eyes, though luckily in this case, there didn't seem to be any lust.

That had only happened once, and the man was still serving his sentence in forced labor in the rockiest fields she could find, under the watchful eye of angry guards, who were outraged when they learned he'd suggested to warm her bed.

"Oh, good morning, sers," she called in as vapid a voice as she could muster. Sometimes she wondered how it was possible for anyone to fall for it, but they did almost every time.

The two men, who must have been father and son due to their strong resemblance, stood up and smilingly greeted her, which was not helped by their crooked teeth. "Lady Crowley, what a vision!" The elder shouted in a booming voice as he walked over.

Elena extended her hand and was fortunately spared the feeling of his lips, as he stopped his bow just above her knuckles. So not completely without sense, but still arrogant enough to think he can dictate the flow of the conversation.

His son quickly repeated the gesture, and they sat as a maid silently entered with a tray of herbal teas and local fruit cookies.

It wasn't exactly a varied spread, but it was hearty and tasty, just how she liked it, and once again, it achieved its goal of making them see her as a hick with little sense of true nobility.

"Let me introduce myself, my Lady. I am Aldinus Aldenson, and this is my son, Alden Aldenson. We are the Aldenson Exporting Group, purveyors extraordinaire of the finest agricultural products of Berea, and have come to your fair lands after hearing of the heroic deeds of your husband and tales of the fertile fields that surround Floria."

And so the game begins. I wonder how much I will be able to get out of these guys. The last contract I signed was a good template, so I should try to imitate it as much as possible. There is no need to make it too complicated. I'll sell them a townhouse and get a stake in their business, then absorb them into the growing Trade Company we're setting up.

The moment people like these believed they could act without the watchful eyes of an experienced noble or a Merchant Guild, they became very relaxed.

It was a shame it wouldn't last long, but at least they'd finally do something productive in their lives.

Devon huffed, letting the sword strike pass by him. He could have ended this easily, and if this had been the Devon who just arrived in Alluria, he would have gladly done so, but he couldn't risk humiliating this specific opponent.

Not because he was worried about his being a distant relative of the Duke, no. Nobility ranks mattered little to him, especially when they couldn't hold their own in battle, but he needed to ask a favor from the guy, which meant enduring his weak attempts at cornering him with patience.

Eventually, when allowing it to drag on even longer would have become more of an insult than a mercy, he stepped things up, positioning his sword at just the right angle to let his opponent's weapon slide off, then moved into his guard.

From there, it was just a matter of pushing and prodding, maintaining a fast enough pace to make the other feel pressured, and eventually, what he'd been waiting for happened.

"Enough!" Elmer von Alluria shouted, swinging his sword up and coating it in a skill, [Empower] from the looks of it, then brought it down with great force.

Devon barely held back a smirk and again met the blade the same way as before.

He saw Elmer realize what he was trying to do and decide to proceed, confident in his skill's power, only to be left without options as the sword still slid off Devon's, but this time, it was with the added momentum of a skill, which caused Elmer to be thrown to the side and out of the sparring ring.

There was a brief pause, and Devon wondered if the guy would try to act like nothing had happened, like some noble kids did when they thought their opponent wouldn't be able to object, but instead, he slumped.

"Ah, man. I thought I'd gotten better," he said, tossing his sword aside.

A butler appeared there before it touched the ground, grabbing it and vanishing in the next breath.

Devon looked at the scene with a fair amount of disappointment. Elmer wasn't a bad guy, especially given the prestige and power his name carried, but he was spoiled rotten and seemed unable to understand that to become a better swordsman, he first needed to respect his sword.

Master Xander would have made him pay for that. But I guess that's another benefit of high nobility— not having to deal with secretive old men who keep their apprentices in the dark about what they're doing with his little brother in the middle of the night.

Sonya was quite worried about it, given how serious Nick looked, and the only thing Devon was able to learn from his master was that they had gone to the castle.

Since Nick left the next morning for the Tower, it meant he couldn't have committed a terrible crime as he initially feared, but that left him with few options.

And Elmer would be the one to confirm which one it was.

"You have improved, it's just that you get a little too impatient," he replied with a relaxed smile, and that seemed to lift the kid's mood.

"Hah, that's right. I just get too excited, but I guess that's the blood of the Heroes singing in my veins, you know?"

Devon let the kid puff himself up a bit more before finally asking what he really wanted to know, "I guess you must have also been tired, no? All the chaos going on in the castle and the city must be hard on you, since you are one of the most promising squires."

It was all complete nonsense, of course. Devon didn't know anything specific, but he guessed as much from the little hints his master had given him, and a lot of flattery helped smooth things over.

Elmer blinked for a moment, clearly surprised by the sudden change, but quickly recovered and nodded, "That's right! Last night was a mess, with guards running around, and Uncle shouting orders at his men to prepare for a major sweep of the docks."

Got it!

"You should probably take a nap, then. I'm sure next time we spar, you'll do much better," Devon said, and quickly excused himself, leaving behind a confused, but satisfied, Elmer.

With his location set, he didn't waste any more time and navigated through side alleys and busy streets, heading toward the docks.

Something major was going on, and he wasn't about to let it involve his little brother without stepping in.

I suppose I should pay a visit to those old con artists who first tried to scam me with fake magical swords. They probably know better than anyone else who's who in Alluria's underworld.

He was lucky to run into a familiar face when he walked into The Hooded Man, a tavern he knew was often frequented by that kind of petty criminal.

"Anthony! How're things going?"