Chapter 142: What Do We Have?
After the Festival, a continuous drizzle turned the streets and alleys of Brambleford into muddy quagmires.
Having spent these days travelling outside, Simon was thoroughly fed up with trudging through ankle-deep mud. He thought to himself that if they could hold Dunmere, he would definitely build several cement roads crisscrossing Brambleford upon his return, while also revamping the city’s drainage system.
After all, infrastructure was one of the essential projects for developing his domain. Moreover, creating a superior living environment could attract merchants from across the Eldorian Empire to settle in Brambleford.
By then, selling land, the legendary land finance would become a reality.
Rainy days were inevitably dull. With the Armaments Department having completed Liam’s plate armour, Simon summoned him over, intending to ask him a few things while he was at it.
"Your Highness, the plate armour is ready so soon?"
This set of armour was naturally meant to placate Liam.
He had the Ironworks specially craft a commander’s plate armour for Liam. Unlike the standard-issue armour for soldiers, this set was not only more aesthetically pleasing but also thicker.
While Lancelot was exceptionally strong, Liam’s strength was more than sufficient to wear this reinforced armour.
"Want to try it on?" Simon leaned back in his chair.
Of his four former troublemaker friends, two were dead, while the remaining two, Alfred and Brandt, were now too terrified to speak freely in his presence.
For a moment, Simon felt a pang of loneliness.
However, Liam, having come from Eldora, didn’t share the same restraint around him as the others. After all, relations among officials in the Eldorian Empire were still quite relaxed.
More than ten days had passed since the Brambleford Army incident. Though Liam and Lancelot’s relationship wasn’t as harmonious as before, tensions had eased somewhat.
Moreover, Simon’s poem had somewhat altered Liam’s opinion of him, leading to occasional visits to the castle.
After all, Liam was alone in Brambleford, with no relatives or friends; Simon was at least an acquaintance.
During his time in the army, Liam had greatly admired Lancelot’s plate armour, especially its quality. To his surprise, Brambleford’s craftsmanship in forging weapons seemed far superior even to that of Eldora’s Armaments Department.
Though he had never worn plate armour before, he had seen soldiers donning it in the military camp. Following their example, he suited up.
In an instant, a figure clad head-to-toe in steel stood before Simon.
"Not bad." Simon nodded approvingly. The armour was indeed worthy of being custom-made.
In truth, every soldier’s plate armour was tailored to fit. Otherwise, there would be issues with sizing, one of the drawbacks of plate armour production.
"Thank you, Your Highness!" Liam grinned as he examined the armour. This was the happiest he had been since arriving in Brambleford.
Once suited up, Liam turned to leave.
Simon immediately called out. "Where are you going?"
"To challenge Lancelot to a rematch. Hmph! That newspaper even reached Eldora. I have never been so humiliated. I must teach him a lesson." Liam grew angrier the more he thought about it.
Simon sighed helplessly. He hadn’t anticipated that a single poem would cause the newspaper to spread all the way to Eldora. Over the next seven days, not only did he receive a letter from Lady Isolde, but he was also granted an edict exiling the disgraced General Benjamin to Brambleford.
Moreover, Hughes petitioned the court, resulting in the imperial government providing Brambleford with two million bags of grain, five thousand bolts of silk, and two hundred thousand caps of silver.
This was a pleasant surprise. In ancient times, warfare severely disrupted production.
Not only were soldiers unable to produce food, but conscripted labourers transporting provisions also took away from agricultural output. The provisions from Alaric would slightly alleviate Brambleford’s food crisis.
After all, Brambleford was still grappling with food shortages. The lean season between harvests was the hardest to endure. Things would only improve after the next harvest.
"Another fight? Aren’t you afraid the newspaper will report it to Eldora again? If you lose, you’ll still be humiliated. If you win, you’ll embarrass General Lancet."
"How would winning be embarrassing?" Liam’s voice was muffled inside the helmet.
Simon scoffed. "General Lancet has always maintained strict military discipline. As a colonel, instead of setting an example for your soldiers, you’re instigating brawls. What kind of behaviour is that?"
Liam pondered this and realised there was some truth to it. Yet, the memory of being pummeled by Lancelot’s wild punches still stoked his fury. He slammed the table in frustration. "I can’t do this, I can’t do that, Your Highness, you’re clearly playing favourites!"
"How am I playing favourites?" Simon feigned innocence. "In fact, I have something that will benefit you. I’ve just received an edict. His Majesty has exiled General Benjamin to Brambleford for hard labour. I’m entrusting this matter to you."
"General Benjamin?" Liam couldn’t believe his ears.
This was a figure on par with his father, a master of military strategy, an area where even his father fell slightly short.
"Exactly, General Benjamin. Since he’s being sent to Brambleford, let him serve his labour in the Brambleford Army." Simon spoke casually.
Benjamin had offended Alaric and was thus punished. By exiling him to Brambleford, the emperor was clearly signalling to Simon to find a way to utilise Benjamin for the Brambleford Army.
However, if Benjamin dared to confront Alaric, how could Simon possibly subdue such a person easily?
That said, if he could truly win Benjamin over, the Brambleford Army would gain a commander of the highest calibre, a tremendous boon for its development.
After all, Lancelot was a troublemaker, full of both strengths and flaws, while Liam might not stay in Brambleford permanently, making him a temporary asset.
Liam immediately grasped the implications. Alaric was delivering a gift to Simon.
As a leading advocate for war, Benjamin couldn’t possibly stand idly by if Dunmere fell.
"Understood, Your Highness. I will ensure General Benjamin is well taken care of." Liam said with a salute.
Simon nodded, instructing Liam on when to depart to fetch the general before dismissing him.
He appreciated Alaric’s gesture, but what he truly desired was absolute dominance over the reavers with cannons. In the future, Brambleford would need commanders skilled in leading firearm-equipped troops.
Still, recognising that the transition from cold weapons to firearms would take time, he let the matter rest.
No sooner had Liam left than Aiden entered.
"My Lord, aside from Prince Augustus, who agreed to provide one hundred thousand bags of grain, the other vassal kings all pleaded poverty, claiming their domains were too destitute to offer any assistance."
As he spoke, Aiden flushed with shame. He had been confident initially, but the shamelessness of these vassal kings exceeded his expectations.
"Of course, they refused," Simon said. "I merely wanted to gauge their attitudes. Now it’s clear they harbour ill intentions. Fine, let them keep their grain. At least I won’t owe them favours when the time comes for blades to cross."
Putting on a profound front, Simon inwardly cursed the ancestors of the Kings of Ravencrest and the others eighteen generations back. These bastards hadn’t given him an ounce of face.