Knight: Becoming King of the World

The nobles had no objection to this; deep down, they actually supported it.

The soldiers needed assurance, and so did they, the nobles.

Now, in everyone’s heart, alongside awe and admiration for Henry, a new sense of approval for his benevolence had taken root.

This was a true leader worth following, a big brother. He cared not only for victory, but also for those who paid the price to achieve it.

Most men on the battlefield often pondered a question: ’What if I die? Would my death be worth it?’

To make men willing to fight to the death, you had to give them something—spiritual or material—to make them believe their sacrifice was worthwhile.

The nobles nodded. A leader like Henry made them proud. Following him, they would have a brighter future!

Henry’s gaze once again swept over every noble present, as if it could pierce their very hearts. "Now, let’s discuss the distribution of the spoils of war."

"First, I want to emphasize that this victory was the result of everyone’s combined efforts. Therefore, the distribution must also be fair and reasonable."

Edmund opened his mouth to speak but fell silent at a look from Henry. Upon hearing this, the other nobles shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

’Dude, seriously? You alone killed who knows how many enemies, and now you’re saying it’s the result of everyone’s combined efforts? We’d have to be pretty shameless to take credit for that!’

Henry paused, then continued, "The spoils available for distribution right now include armor, weapons, prisoners of war, and various supplies."

"I propose we distribute these spoils according to each person’s contribution to the campaign."

"As for what constitutes contribution... first, the number and quality of troops committed to the battlefield, and second, the number of enemies killed by those troops."

The nobles nodded one after another in agreement.

The exact number of kills might be impossible to determine precisely, but a rough count could still be made. Besides, with so many people watching, who would believe you if you claimed to have killed several thousand men yourself?

Henry continued, "Hmm... From the total spoils, we will set aside three shares."

"The first share will be used to compensate the families of the Barons and Knights who died in battle."

"It is what they have earned, and it is a sign of our respect for their heroic actions."

"The second share will be distributed to the soldiers and Knights who distinguished themselves in battle."

"Your courage and sacrifice were key to our victory, so you should receive a fitting reward."

"The final share, I suggest, should be used to strengthen our defenses and military forces..."

"We may not remain gathered, but we should strengthen our communication."

As soon as Henry finished speaking, the nobles began to whisper amongst themselves, discussing the proposal. Henry’s arrangements could be said to have covered all bases; no one had any objections to them.

However, they were taken aback by his final words. ’Does Henry intend to lead us into battle indefinitely?’

’And strengthening communication... to what extent?’

No matter how powerful Henry was, most of the nobles still held the attitude of sizing up the situation, thinking, ’I’m just following the big boss to get a sip of the soup, to pick up some scraps.’

They had no desire to bow and scrape, to place an "emperor" above their own heads.

’You’re a badass, you’re powerful, I’ll give you face. If you want to go to war, we’ll send troops. That should be plenty.’

’As for bowing in fealty and pledging allegiance...’

Just then, Edmund stood up, his voice booming, "I support Lord Baron Henry’s proposal. I believe it is the fairest method of distribution."

"We cannot forget those who sacrificed themselves for our victory, nor can we ignore the soldiers who performed outstandingly in battle."

Calvin also stood up, his gaze firm. "I too support Baron Henry. He is not only a powerful Warrior, but also a just leader. I believe that under his leadership, our future will be even brighter."

The others looked at these two of Henry’s staunchest supporters, but said nothing. They had only offered some flattering words regarding Henry’s distribution of the spoils.

But they didn’t mention his final statement.

After Edmund and Calvin finished speaking, a dead silence fell over the command tent.

The nobles’ eyes shifted between one another, but no one was willing to break the silence.

They were conflicted. They found Henry’s proposal reasonable, yet they also felt an unspoken threat.

Boras, the Baron who seemed a bit eccentric among the nobles, stood up in the midst of the silence.

His eyes held an almost fanatical loyalty, and though his voice was not loud, it carried clearly throughout the tent. "I, Baron Boras, am willing to follow Lord Baron Henry’s arrangements. I will advance and retreat with you. Wherever you point, I will follow."

His words revealed an almost blind adoration, which made the other nobles uneasy.

They exchanged complex glances, their hearts filled with bewilderment and displeasure.

’You’re a Baron, yet you so easily abandon your own standing to willingly become one of Henry’s followers?’ They found it unbelievable.

’You’re a noble, an Independent Noble at that!’

’Seriously, you’re a Baron...’ some nobles grumbled inwardly. ’You’re just going to be his dog like that?’ Their eyes revealed disdain and contempt.

But if Boras really had thrown in his lot completely with Henry...

The nobles began to stare at the ground, feigning ignorance. They knew that the three Barons—Edmund, Calvin, and Boras—now stood firmly on Henry’s side.

They had heard stories about the camaraderie between Henry and them during the Wolf Hunting Festival, and about him lending them troops, but they never expected the support these three had for Henry to run so deep!

They began to consider their own positions. They didn’t want to accept an additional "emperor," but they didn’t dare refuse him either.

They were afraid. Today they were here dividing the enemy’s spoils, but tomorrow they could be the ones being divided.

The heads of the nobles who had died were still skewered on wooden stakes, displayed alongside the pyramid of skulls.

The atmosphere in the tent shifted again and again. Every noble was weighing their own interests and risks.

Henry’s power could not be underestimated, and he clearly possessed greater ambitions.

Some even suspected: ’Is Henry planning to unite the entire steppe and become its king, the Khan of the grasslands?’

Henry had simply made too deep an impression on them. He was either at war, or on his way to war.

Even when he wasn’t at war, he was drilling his troops!

They had to make a choice: either join Henry, keep their distance, or perhaps even prepare to face his enmity and attacks.

Henry quietly observed it all, his expression unchanging.

’Are these nobles important? Not really. In my eyes, I could kill them all for sport.’

’But then again, Henry didn’t like "silence." If more people could live, making things a bit more lively, that would be better.’

’After all, I can’t end up having to arrange and solve everything myself, can I?’

Finally, an elderly Knight broke the silence, his voice tinged with weariness. "Lord Baron Henry, your proposal is reasonable, and we have all witnessed your fairness and benevolence."

"However, we also need time to consider and discuss this. After all, it concerns the future of every one of us."

Henry nodded. "I understand your concerns. I am willing to give you time to discuss and consider."

"However, I want you to remember that our fates are intertwined. Only by uniting as one can we face the challenges of the future."

The unquestionable finality in his words made the nobles realize—the man before them was someone who killed without batting an eye.

’His patience is limited. If we drag this out too long, will our heads be taken off and thrown onto the skull mound too?’

’Hard to say, really hard to say!’

’It’s a good thing none of us has a weak heart. Otherwise, in this short span of time, with the fighting, the joy, the tension, the excitement, and the fear...’

’...a man could just drop dead, couldn’t he?’