Knight: Becoming King of the World

Countess Ratifa’s proposal landed like a bombshell, causing an uproar inside the tent.

Her words were like polished gemstones, shining with an alluring light that deeply tempted every noble present.

"An acquisition?"

A Baron couldn’t help but repeat the word, his eyes practically glued to the chests filled with Gold Coins.

"Honorable Countess Ratifa Villarreal, are you serious?"

Ratifa smiled faintly, her posture elegant and confident, as if everything was under her control.

"Of course. I never jest, especially when it comes to such important matters."

Ratifa was supremely confident. She believed the Prince’s military supply mission was as simple as drinking water. In her eyes, there was no problem in the world that money couldn’t solve.

And if money couldn’t solve it, there was no point in worrying—one might as well just wait to die.

The nobles began to whisper amongst themselves, their excitement and greed written all over their faces. All thoughts of composure and dignity were forgotten. Now, their eyes saw only glittering Dinars.

Many of them knew that while the profits from the spoils of war and the value of the captured nobles’ fiefs were immense, converting them into liquid assets was no easy task.

After all, they couldn’t possibly travel all that way and haul back a massive, bloated caravan to empty out the conquered fiefs, could they?

But now, Countess Ratifa’s appearance undoubtedly offered them a fast and effective solution.

’Someone’s here to cash us out!’

"How much money is that?"

Viscount Carl Yang swallowed and mumbled to himself, "A hundred thousand? Or several hundred thousand?"

Ratifa waved her hand lightly, her every movement filled with aristocratic grace.

"The exact amount will have to be determined based on the value of the spoils. But I can guarantee my offer will satisfy all of you."

Viscount Carl Yang and Viscount Muwu Zetubu, the two Viscounts present, could scarcely imagine what it would be like if this fortune belonged to them...

’We could never spend it all! It’s just too much! We couldn’t spend it all even building a castle! We could hire seven or eight thousand laborers and thousands of artisans to work for a solid year, and we’d still have money left over after the castle was built!’

’Imagine just buying the massive stone blocks from the city guilds ready-made. How amazing would that be?’

’It’s not that amazing. Why not just have someone build a frame for you and then disappear?’

Henry quietly observed all of this, his face showing little emotion.

He knew what Countess Ratifa’s proposal meant to these nobles and understood just how tempting this deal was.

Henry cleared his throat, silencing everyone.

"Countess Ratifa, we are grateful for your generosity. However, I would like to know why you are doing this. As far as I know, Tiyaer is not short on supplies or armaments."

Ratifa’s gaze shifted to Henry, a flash of appreciation in her eyes. ’It seems Henry really is different from the other nobles, to even consider such questions.’

The Empire was currently unstable, and large-scale trade of armaments, people, and grain would be closely monitored by the Emperor.

’What if these supplies were sold to Ratifa, and she actually decided to rebel?’

"Baron Henry, you are always so direct. This is a mission given to me by the Prince. The Prince requires more supplies and provisions; the Empire’s support alone... is not enough to complete the Prince’s plans."

The nobles’ faces showed expressions of understanding. They exchanged glances, seemingly communicating their mutual surprise and comprehension in silence. Their previous confusion and doubt were replaced by a new consensus.

As the wealthiest city in the snowy plains of the Northern Lands, Tiyaer’s wealth and resources were naturally unparalleled by other cities.

However, even for Tiyaer, providing such a huge sum of Dinars at once was by no means an easy feat.

’But if the Prince needed it, then it’s understandable. He’s the Emperor’s favorite son. How could he possibly be short on money?’

’Hiss... Wait, that’s not right. Don’t the logistics for the war in the snowy plains of the Northern Lands already have the highest priority? Why would he still need more...’

’Looks like this Prince isn’t as capable as they say. He’s dropping the ball.’

"I see. So the Countess is here for the Prince’s supply mission," Viscount Muwu Zetubu said in a low voice, a hint of relief in his tone.

"No wonder Countess Ratifa is being so extravagant. It’s the Prince making the deal," Carl Yang chimed in, a flash of disdain in his eyes.

Henry sat there quietly, his face showing little emotion, but his mind was rapidly analyzing the situation.

’The Prince’s supply mission isn’t as simple as it seems on the surface. There’s one problem I’ve been aware of for a while now.’

’Although reports of victory in the war in the snowy plains of the Northern Lands were frequent, the stalemate on the front lines was an indisputable fact.’

’The Prince’s army had achieved some victories on the battlefield, but these victories hadn’t translated into any strategic advantage.’

’No matter how glorious the outcome of a battle, if it couldn’t be converted into actual territory and resources, then what was the point of such victories?’

’No matter how many enemies they killed or how impressive the battle reports were, what was the use if the enemy was inexhaustible and their attacks were relentless?’

Henry mused to himself that the Prince’s army was likely facing some kind of predicament, one that forced him to seek external support and resources.

The Prince’s success or failure was not just a matter of his personal honor and status; it would affect the future of the entire Empire.