Knight: Becoming King of the World

"You are my right-hand man, my most trusted subordinate."

"I need you to maintain the army’s morale, ensure discipline on the march, and prevent any potential chaos."

"This isn’t just a simple march. This is a mission that could determine the outcome of the entire war."

Bain’s eyes lit up. ’So my mission is that important?’ He began to understand Henry’s true intentions.

Seeing Bain’s eyes brighten, Henry continued his spiel: "Besides, Bain, the tides of war can turn in an instant. During the march, you might encounter all sorts of unexpected situations. You might have a chance to display your command abilities, or perhaps an opportunity to earn glorious military achievements."

"But most importantly, you must remain calm, hold fast to your duties, and ensure our army is in peak condition to meet the enemy in battle."

Bain took a deep breath, the feelings of grievance and dissatisfaction in his heart vanishing like smoke.

He stood up, gave Henry a standard military salute, and said, "My lord, I understand. I will complete this mission and not let you down."

Henry smiled and nodded. "I believe in you, Bain. You’ve always been my most capable aide, and I have full confidence in you. Now, go and prepare. The army needs you."

Bain turned and left the council hall. This mission might not be the most conspicuous, but it was the most important. He would give it his all—for Henry, and for himself—to demonstrate the responsibility and courage of a true Knight!

Henry shook his head with a smile and went back to rest. What he had just said was mostly true, with one small lie. The only falsehood was his claim that Bain’s mission was so important.

The missions assigned to Selas, Boman, and Fass were genuinely dangerous. It would be easy for them to die out there, picked off by a stray arrow.

Henry couldn’t possibly micromanage everything now. If that were the case, he might as well don a suit of armor, become a mountain bandit king, and spend his days farming until retirement.

Henry also had his selfish reasons. Compared to his other Attendants and old classmates, Bain was undoubtedly closer to him.

He didn’t want a young man with limitless potential, who had been by his side for so long, to die.

As for the task of commanding the march, it was both important and unimportant. This was because Henry’s army didn’t need complicated commands to begin with.

But with Bain in command, Henry could lie back in his carriage and sleep soundly!

Lord Henry had become decadent! He had to admit, it was hard to build good habits but incredibly easy to fall into bad ones. He was now at a point where he wouldn’t stand if he could sit, and wouldn’t sit if he could lie down. ’Isn’t living a life of comfort the whole point?’

After the desert campaign, Henry had grown a bit weary. He didn’t want to go on any long expeditions; he’d had his fill of eating sand. After this trip to the Northern Lands, Henry had decided to just coast.

’Why the hell should I suffer like that? Wouldn’t that mean I built this army for nothing?! That I became a Count for nothing?’

The next day, after the army set out, Henry lay in his carriage, muttering to himself. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he enjoyed a rare moment of leisure.

"My lord, about the marching route..." Vasco approached the carriage, wanting to report the details of their advance.

Henry waved a lazy hand. "Enough, enough. Didn’t that Bain kid go? With him around, what are you worried about? This carriage is a mobile command center. If there’s a problem, go find him. Don’t bother me."

With that, he closed his eyes again, continuing to enjoy the "massage" from the carriage’s jostling.

The Personal Guard beside him couldn’t help but snicker as they watched Henry’s antics.

Henry had completely let himself go, transforming from a "conscientious" lord into a "lazy" one.

"My lord, regarding the distribution of rations..." another officer, this one from the supply corps, came over.

Annoyed, Henry pulled back the carriage curtain, opened one eye to glance at the officer, then closed it again. "Isn’t Claude in charge of logistics? Let him worry about it. I just want results; you all can figure out the process. I’m a Count, not your errand boy."

With that, he yawned and resumed his leisurely time.

Hearing Henry’s words, the surrounding soldiers couldn’t help but cover their mouths to stifle their laughter.

Ailia looked at the young man resting on her lap and chuckled. "My lord used to want to manage every little thing. Why is it you don’t want to manage anything now?"

Henry put on a serious expression. "I’m a Count. They need to learn to think for themselves and solve problems independently. I only need results; they can handle the process."

"This carriage is a mobile lounge, not an office."

Ailia burst out laughing and said nothing more.

Henry meant what he said. His future enterprise would only grow larger, and he would definitely need more people who could stand on their own.

Lying in the carriage, Henry also heard the laughter of his Personal Guard, and the corners of his mouth couldn’t help but lift into a slight smile.

Meanwhile, the fastest-moving trio—Selas, Boman, and Fass—had already entered Count John’s fief. Leading their respective Cavalry units, they split into three forces and swept through every corner like a raging wind.

Like wolf packs on the steppe, they struck swiftly and fiercely at Count John’s patrols, supply trains, and merchant caravans.

Their actions were decisive, their objectives clear. Patrols: kill! Supply trains: burn! Merchant caravans: drive them away!

As for villages, farms, pastures, and horse ranches, they didn’t occupy or govern them, only smashed, looted, and plundered. Their goal was to cut off the city of Odoche’s supply lines and contact with the outside world, turning it into an isolated city.

Wherever they went, enemy patrols were swiftly routed, supply trains were plundered bare, and merchant caravans were scattered one by one. Any who didn’t comply were eliminated on the spot. ’They could try their hand at business in the next life.’

They held every advantage: superior numbers, extensive combat experience, and excellent equipment. Like eagles on the steppe, they swooped down and tore their targets to shreds.

This sudden outbreak of war caught the enemy completely off guard.

’Is this reasonable? This isn’t reasonable at all! This doesn’t follow the proper procedures for a declaration of war between nobles!’

To this, Henry had his own explanation.

The Emperor had only mediated the war between him and John; he hadn’t stopped or resolved their war and conflict.

Now that the mediation period was over, it was only natural to resume hostilities!

The front lines were already drenched in blood, with the flames of war raging.

Yet, against this backdrop of tense and brutal warfare, Henry was currently basking in the warm sun, enjoying the taste of roasted lamb and the aroma of fine wine, as if completely oblivious to the tense situation at the front.

This sense of disconnect was almost absurd: on one side, a battlefield of fire and rivers of blood; on the other, a life of leisure and enjoyment.

However, Henry seemed unconcerned by this disconnect. His army was acting according to his plan, and all he had to do was wait for news of victory.

Henry’s carriage moved forward slowly as he sipped his fine wine and admired the surrounding scenery.

His Personal Guard stood watch vigilantly around him, ensuring his safety. Of course, this was just for show. Not a single member of the Personal Guard believed they could actually protect Henry.

’What was Henry’s level? What was theirs? If Henry were ever in danger, they would probably already be dead.’

Their symbolic significance far outweighed their practical use.

"My Lord, Lord Selas’s battle report for the day has arrived."

Henry nodded but didn’t look at it. He turned to Claude, who had come over to mooch some food and drink, and asked, "Odoche has a shocking number of pastures and horse ranches. Do we have enough shepherd slaves? I can’t possibly let all this land go to waste."

"I want cattle and sheep in my fief to be as cheap as grain. I want every self-employed farmer to be able to afford a horse for travel."

Claude wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth and smiled. "My lord, there’s no one on the entire steppe who doesn’t know how to herd sheep or ride a horse."

"Making them soldiers might be difficult, but as for making them shepherd slaves, any man from the steppe can handle that with ease."