CHAPTER 75: CHAPTER 75: THE NORTHWIND PROVINCE’S CRISIS ERUPTS

Just as Ryan had said: as much grain as possible—he would take it all.

For Mihai, the same logic applied to weapons. And just as Ryan had suspected, House Fragoso was not acting alone.

Wary of drawing Imperial attention to the kingdom’s internal tensions, Mihai avoided direct dealings with the other nobles of Northwind Province. However, she did suggest that Ryan could buy from them, then resell the weapons to her faction.

It was common knowledge throughout the region that Northwind Province was rich in iron ore.

After seeing Mihai off, Ryan wanted to gather more information about the Kingdom of Andara, but lacking proper agents or networks, he had to shelve the matter—for now.

Within days, he had already ordered his blacksmiths to start forging armor and weapons, and he sent Beard into Northwind Province to purchase more arms.

But Beard had been gone less than two days when a titled noble—a Lord of Merit from the Shénma Territory, under Baron Hatton—arrived in the Frozen Territory.

"Honored Lord of the Frozen Territory, my lord, Baron Hatton, sends his greetings."

The man was Rayo Hatton, the baron’s uncle. Elevated to noble status under the lordship system, he now carried himself with noticeable confidence and arrogance when facing Ryan.

"Baron Hatton invites me to visit?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow in surprise at the invitation, paused briefly, and then agreed.

"Tell Baron Hatton I’ll be there as promised."

With a wave, Ryan dismissed Rayo. The old butler escorted the noble away, despite the man’s clear desire to prolong his visit and mingle with a rank-five noble like Ryan.

"Hatton’s invitation? That can’t mean anything good."

When the butler returned, Ryan had him summon Brand.

The next day, Ryan set out with thirty soldiers for the Shénma Territory. With the road now roughly passable, their pace was much improved.

Upon arriving, Ryan immediately sensed the tense atmosphere in the region.

"Ryan! You’ve finally come."

Baron Hatton greeted him from afar, laughing as if they were old friends.

"Baron Hatton."

Ryan nodded, avoiding the man’s open-armed embrace.

They walked side by side into the castle’s banquet hall. Compared to Ryan’s last visit, there were far more attractive maids now—clearly, Hatton had not dialed back his indulgences.

"See anyone you like? Take her. Or at least... sample the goods tonight."

Hatton winked suggestively.

"Let’s focus on business, Baron Hatton."

Ryan had already noticed Hatton’s gaze lingering on his military entourage earlier.

Sure enough, Hatton’s expression soon turned grim.

"Ryan, you don’t know—the brat Watt is getting out of hand."

"I don’t know where he got so many slaves, but he’s filled his knightly domain with them. And his mother, that woman from the Meyers family, provided a mountain of gold so he could form a private army."

"And that’s not even the worst part—Roch, that damned scheming crow, actually stationed his forces in Watt’s domain, claiming it’s to support his Lord of Merit in expanding territory."

"You know how it is—autumn comes early in Northwind Province, and harvest season is nearly here. Watt’s fief didn’t plant enough grain to feed all those slaves."

"These past few days, that little punk’s been brazenly raiding my territory for food."

Hatton turned to Ryan, his expression serious:

"Ryan, my neighbor—we absolutely cannot allow Watt’s domain to trample on noble honor, to plunder the sacred wealth of nobility!"

Ryan nodded and smiled slightly:

"Of course. For a Lord of Merit to challenge a Baron—that’s intolerable."

"But Baron Hatton, my own territory is very busy right now. And with this year’s winter likely harsher than usual, if I rashly go to war with Baron Roch’s faction, I could suffer great losses."

Ryan paused, pretending to hesitate:

"But... if you could provide some food to help me through this winter, then even if I lose a few slaves to the cold, I would still be willing to assist you."

That was the real deal. Hatton gave Ryan a sharp look.

"Ryan, I heard you just bought a huge amount of grain. How are you already in need?"

"The Frozen Territory can’t grow much food," Ryan replied. "You know that. All I can do is stockpile."

"And don’t forget—I have to feed a lot of knights. They eat like oxen."

"True enough."

Hatton nodded, ultimately agreeing. His own harvest had been decent, and he’d already purchased an extra batch. He’d have no trouble surviving the winter.

But he would not tolerate Watt and Baron Roch stealing even a single grain from his stores.

"Then my forces will be stationed here."

"No, no, Ryan—I want you to stay, too. Your land is too cold. It’s warmer here."

Hatton shook his head. He wanted Ryan’s personal presence to ensure stronger backing.

"No one can cross the mountain road to reach your domain. You won’t need to worry about it for now."

Ryan’s instincts told him something deeper was at play.

He asked Hatton directly, and though the man hesitated, he eventually confessed:

"Not long ago, Baron Barnes sent someone to me in secret, proposing an alliance. Northwind Province... might be descending into chaos."

Hatton spoke with visible anxiety. He was clearly unsettled and wanted Ryan’s powerful military as protection.

"Barnes?"

Ryan remembered him well—a baron whose military power ranked just behind the two viscounts of Lingdu County, and someone who had once been friendly at the Council of Northwind City.

After a brief pause, Ryan understood what was happening.

The devastating aftermath of the orc invasion was finally boiling over.

With no fortresses to hold them back—and the ferocity of the Black Goat clan—the orcs had plundered much of Northwind Province’s wealth: food, clothing, even livestock.

As a result, every noble in the province now had to purchase grain from the south.

But because the Empire had gradually abandoned Northwind Province, trade was cut off, and merchant guilds had reduced supplies.

And perhaps the most critical factor: the Empire had withdrawn its attention—and with it, the pressure of a centralized authority. Not even the 1.5 million gold coin tax mattered anymore.

Back when the tax was proposed, every noble had pledged contributions—"You pay some, I pay some"—to raise the vast sum.

But when it came time to pay?

No one wanted to fork over their own gold. So if they could just take it from someone else, why wouldn’t they?

And finally: with imperial oversight now fading, the nobles understood the unspoken truth—Northwind Province had been half-abandoned.

As long as no one went too far, the Empire wouldn’t care what happened here.

But what was too far?

Would the Empire really ignore a noble’s territory being invaded?

That line had yet to be drawn.