Knight: Becoming King of the World

Roland said nothing more. He was Henry’s Attendant, a part of the military system. He didn’t need to ask questions, just execute orders.

Claude, on the other hand, was a bit dazed. ’Did so much really happen in the four or five days I was gone?’

"My lord, are we no longer defending against the Lizardmen here?"

"We don’t have to. The great emperor has issued new orders. My mission is to depart from Gasil, cross the Inner Sea by boat to Vostrom, then travel west through Poros, Zeondika, Jarmarus, and Oerticia, finally arriving in Shalas."

Claude closed his eyes to picture the imperial map, then asked, "My lord, it would be faster if we took the route through Gasil, Sanara, and Ancient Yaz."

Henry shook his head. "These are the emperor’s orders. I need only do as he requires."

Claude sighed and said worriedly, "My lord, you have been away for too long. You’ve spent less than a year in your fiefdom. Tommy is certainly trustworthy, but people change!

"My lord, on your lands, trade with the merchant caravans is growing. Tax evasion is bound to happen, and corruption among the Record Keepers will surely become rampant.

"In such an environment, could Tommy be corrupted? Your main town already has over a thousand permanent residents. Large gangs might not form, but what about smaller factions?

"What about the shops, the Workshops, the merchants? Won’t they secretly form a guild in your absence? Will they not chip away at your authority!

"You have seven villages, twenty-two farmsteads, and over ten thousand peasants! Won’t powerful local landowners emerge to challenge your rule?

"These are matters you need to govern, not problems you can solve with the army’s brute force. Hanging one man or cutting down another is pointless.

"My lord, you cannot remain away for so long."

Claude’s voice grew louder as he spoke, until he could no longer control it. He couldn’t accept Henry’s absentee-landlord style of the Lord Offline System.

It was as worrying as watching someone not give a thought to where their next meal would come from.

He had watched Henry grow up in the household of Baron Chase of Feikawen. He couldn’t accept such a talented young man caring only for his personal might while neglecting the growth of his domain.

Henry fell silent. He looked at the anxious Claude, and this genuine outburst of concern made him feel deeply embarrassed.

Because everything Claude said was right.

’When it comes to the fiefdom, all I care about is whether there are enough recruits and enough grain to feed the army.’

’And I’ve never truly cared for the army, either. I can’t stand the thought of seeing the corpse of a man whose name I know, whose likes and dislikes I know, a man who laughs and smiles in my presence every day. One Bain was more than enough for me to worry about.’

Henry suddenly realized he had become a stranger to himself. Since graduating from the academy, his entire existence seemed to revolve around leveling up and allocating points, over and over, as if the world had been set on fast-forward.

"My lord? My lord?"

Henry snapped back to reality. He looked at Claude, who now seemed a little frightened, and said earnestly, "Claude, you’re right. After we quell this rebellion, I will focus on developing the fiefdom. Laws, taxes, institutions—I will establish them all myself."

Claude hurriedly bowed his head, his back already soaked with sweat. ’How did I get so bold? How dare I speak to the lord that way?’

He hadn’t realized it, but Henry—his lord and his junior—and Tommy—his friend and colleague—had become the most important people in his life.

His parents were long gone. In all the world, Henry and Tommy were the only ones left for him to care about.

The army quickly packed its things, preparing to leave the encampment outside Hubia City.

Claude also noticed that the once-bustling camp had become quite empty. It seemed many of the nobles had already departed.

With its wagons arranged in columns two abreast, the army departed from the camp outside Hubia in a great procession, attracting no attention from others.

It was as if they had never been there, except that now, far fewer comrades marched beside them.

Uncharacteristically, Henry was not clad in armor and leading the column on his warhorse. Instead, he sat inside a carriage, his eyes gazing blankly into the distance.

His thoughts seemed to drift far, far away, so distant that even the sound of the rotating wheels grew faint.

Ailia sat across from Henry, noticing his silence and pensive mood.

She did not disturb him, but silently picked up a thin, dry leaf and fanned him with it, trying to bring him a bit of a breeze.

The carriage rolled slowly at the head of the column, its wheels making a soft creaking sound as they passed over the dry, dusty ground.

Henry’s gaze passed through the carriage’s curtains, settling on the distant horizon.

He thought of Claude’s words—of the fiefdom, his people, and the future...

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if releasing all the confusion and insecurity from his heart. Turning to Ailia, he offered a smile.

"Ailia, when we get back to the fiefdom, I’m going to establish a velvet mill. Then, you’ll be able to have fine clothes and bedding, too."

A flash of surprise lit up Ailia’s eyes. She nodded gently in support.

A tremor ran through Henry, followed by a wave of warmth that spread from within. He was not alone. He had loyal soldiers, understanding companions from his family’s household, and the subjects who trusted and supported him, who had moved to his fiefdom and were waiting for him.

"My lord! My lord..."

Henry pulled back the curtain and saw a Knight riding toward them.

"My lord, Quartermaster Claude has prepared the marching plan for the day and made arrangements for setting up camp."

"Understood, Leon. We’re heading for Shalas. That used to be your home, doesn’t that feel special?"

Leon was a Knight who, in Henry’s eyes, possessed both Wisdom and Bravery. His armor was a suit of black chainmail, providing essential protection without impeding his flexibility.

He wore a light helm with a visor that revealed only a pair of shrewd eyes. His weapons were a western-plains Riding Spear and a pair of shortswords, perfect for swift, deadly, close-quarters combat.

Leon smiled, slightly embarrassed, and replied, "My lord, Shalas was my old home. My home now is Westwood Laine Keep."

Henry hadn’t expected such an answer and burst out laughing.

Leon hadn’t performed exceptionally well in the recent defensive battle, which made him feel rather sheepish.

It went without saying that Selas and Roland had already caught Henry’s discerning eye, and Bain had been the leader of the Attendants. The three remaining Attendants, including Leon, were in an awkward position.

They were supposed to be prospective nobles, yet they had no special merits to their names. They were little more than grunts with better gear.

Yet, if you called them mere soldiers, well, they had their own personal warhorses, armor, and weapons.

However, Leon was confident. Shalas was in the western region, the place where he’d grown up. He was intimately familiar with the local nobles’ customs in both war and society.

’My time to make my mark has come!’

"Anything else, Leon?"

"No, my lord. I wish you a pleasant journey."

After speaking, Leon turned his horse, left the supply wagon train, and rode back into the ranks of the army.

「Four days later」

Henry’s army was far from Hubia City, marching toward Gasil, when Salim finally received his reward from Henry: three hundred Dinars in total.

For Salim, this sum was enough to return to his tribe and improve the lives of his people.

Henry felt a pang of reluctance. He admired Salim’s skill and courage and was grateful for his help as a guide in the desert.

"Salim, must you really leave?" Henry asked, his tone tinged with hope.

Salim looked at Henry. A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes, but his resolve quickly returned.

"Yes, my lord. I must return to my tribe. My people need me."

Henry fell silent for a moment before making a suggestion. "Salim, you don’t have to go back. I can arrange a home for you and your family at Westwood Laine Keep. It has a reliable water source and fertile land. You could all live a better life."

Gratitude flashed across Salim’s face, but he still tactfully declined.

"My lord, I am grateful for your kindness, but the desert is my home. My skills are in traversing and surviving the desert. Away from it, I am nothing."

Henry nodded in understanding.

’Now that I think about it, he’s right,’ Henry thought. ’If Salim left the desert, would he really have any opportunities serving me?’

"Very well, Salim. I respect your choice. You are a true son of the desert, and your tribe will be proud to have you back."

Salim smiled and bowed to Henry. "Thank you, my lord. I will always remember your generosity and compassion."

Henry watched him mount his camel and slowly disappear over the desert horizon.

After Salim’s departure, Henry’s army continued its advance toward their objective: Gasil.

Gasil was a good distance from Hobia, so it had been largely unaffected by the Lizardmen invasion. The closer they drew to Gasil, the more merchant caravans they encountered on the road each day.

Seeing signs of human activity in the wilderness brought a sense of relief to everyone, as if they had already left the desert behind.

In the carriage, Henry and Claude ate fruit they had purchased from a passing caravan.

"Claude, increase our pace. I want to reach Gasil in two days."

"Is something wrong, my lord?"

"Something feels wrong. The siege on Hobia was lifted a while ago, yet not a single caravan we’ve encountered has been heading toward it.

"Furthermore, on this route, we should be running into supply convoys heading for Hubia City, but we haven’t seen a single one.

"This isn’t normal. The political winds in the desert are about to shift."

Claude’s eyes darted about. After quickly finishing the apple in his hand, he left the carriage and ordered the officers and Attendants to pick up the pace.

A storm of realization crashed through Claude’s mind. A massive conspiracy was taking shape.

’Why did the emperor order all the nobles away from Hobia? Why did he have Henry leave the desert by taking a long detour from Gasil? Why are there no trade caravans or supply convoys going to Hobia?’

’Is it because no one wants to go? Or is someone stopping them?’

’There’s definitely something wrong here! The desert... a storm is truly coming.’