Count Zimbar finally regained his composure and asked again, "E-Everything, you say? Did I mishear you?"
"You heard me correctly. From now on, all northern armies will fall under my command."
This demand had crossed a significant line. What is a lord, after all? Someone granted autonomy in exchange for loyalty to the crown.
Within their territories, lords wield king-like authority.
To demand their armies, their personal assets, and their means of defense—everything—was outrageous.
Bang!
Count Zimbar slammed his hand on the table and stood up.
"Count Fenris! No matter how much authority you wield as the Northern Army Commander, this is too much! How can you demand that the lords surrender their personal armies?"
"If we don't stop the duchy and the Rifts, we'll all die anyway."
"Y-You insolent brat!"
Ghislain's cold response made Zimbar grind his teeth. He loathed the thought that this boy, whom he'd known as a mere infant, now stood here issuing threats from a position of authority.
Sensing the rising tension, other lords quickly stepped in to calm the situation.
"Now, now, let's not escalate this further. Please, take your seat, Count Zimbar."
"Count Fenris, perhaps your demand was meant as a jest. Kingdom law stipulates that maximum recruitment is half, does it not?"
"Indeed! If the rights of lords aren't protected, who will remain loyal to the crown?"
"Even half is excessive. Such a provision is meant for extreme crises—nothing like this has ever been enforced before."
At their urging, Count Zimbar reluctantly sat down, still fuming. Ghislain, however, remained composed and unyielding.
"This is precisely the crisis that law was meant for. The number of monsters emerging from the Rifts will only continue to grow."
"Surely you don't mean to take all of our armies?"
"I do. In return, I will ensure you are compensated with ample supplies and rewards after the war."
Even at this assurance, the lords shook their heads. If they gave up their armies now, there'd be no way to resist if promises were broken later. Besides, the scale of the current threat still didn't feel real to them.
One lord hesitantly asked,
"And if we refuse?"
Ghislain bared his teeth in a fierce grin.
"Do you think I'd just sit back and watch? If Fenris goes to war and loses, won't you all pounce on my territory like vultures?"
The lords flinched. His accusation hit uncomfortably close to home.
Fenris had become a symbol of prosperity in the North. If Ghislain's army were to falter against the Rifts or the duchy, the lords wouldn't hesitate to seize the opportunity to claim his territory.
Count Zimbar growled through clenched teeth, "Count Fenris, you may have earned fame as the North's strongest, but your arrogance is unmatched. Do you truly intend to fight all of us? Is that why you called us here?"
No lord would attend such a gathering without their own forces for protection. Surrounding the meeting site were tens of thousands of soldiers representing the various lords, all on high alert.
Ghislain glanced around. Just among the personal guards present, the assembled forces exceeded 5,000.
Despite being outnumbered, Ghislain let out a derisive laugh and replied,
"Do you think I can't?"
"Are you seriously willing to go that far?"
Count Zimbar's threat only made Ghislain raise his hand and call out,
"Gillian."
"Yes, my lord."
"From now on, any lord who refuses my orders will have their army attacked immediately."
"As you command."
Gillian mounted his horse and shouted, "All units, prepare for battle!"
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The knights mounted up, and the cavalry raised their spears high, their posture radiating readiness to charge at any target given.
Each lord's army bore its respective flags, making it easy to identify targets.
As the Fenris soldiers readied for battle, the other lords' forces erupted into chaos.
"What's going on?"
"Are they actually planning to fight?"
"Everyone, prepare for battle! Ready the defenses!"
The soldiers, expecting only a diplomatic meeting, were thrown into confusion. The lords seated at the table were no less flustered.
They hadn't anticipated that Ghislain would escalate things this far.
One lord, sweating profusely, tried to defuse the situation.
"Count Fenris, must you really go to such extremes? Surely there's a better way to resolve this."
"And what way would that be?"
"Well, perhaps you could avoid such aggressive tactics. Maybe take more time to… 'dialogue' with us, help us 'understand' your intentions, and 'persuade' us to align with your goals…?"
The lord was clearly stalling for time, hoping to ease tensions.
But he didn't understand the kind of man he was dealing with.
Ghislain unsheathed a sword and placed it on the table with a loud thunk.
"This sword is one I hold dear. I often use it in duels, so I've named it 'Dialogue.'"
"…What?"
Next, he drew a hand axe from his belt and placed it beside the sword.
"This axe is a versatile tool I use often. I've named it 'Understanding.'"
"...."
Finally, he gestured, and Tenant handed him a spear from the saddle of the Black King.
"This spear is what I use most on the battlefield. It allows me to impose my will on countless foes. Its name is 'Persuasion.'"
"...."
Fixing the lords with a piercing gaze, Ghislain asked,
"Now, choose. Which would you prefer?"
The lords were struck dumb, swallowing hard.
This man was insane. Worse than the rumors said.
In this situation, choosing 'Dialogue,' 'Understanding,' or 'Persuasion' clearly wasn't an option.
Ghislain turned to the lord seated nearest him and asked,
"If we fail to stop the Rifts and the duchy, we'll all die. This is your last chance. Will you join forces, or will you die here?"
"I… I…"
Overwhelmed by Ghislain's murderous aura, the lord could only sweat and stammer, glancing helplessly at his peers for support. But the other lords were just as shaken.
No one had the nerve to openly oppose Fenris and his forces.
The pressure eventually broke the nearest lord, who bowed his head in submission.
"I… I will follow your orders, Count Fenris."
"What? Wait, no—"
"Hold on a moment—!"
The other lords tried to object, but when Ghislain glared at them, they quickly fell silent, bowing their heads one by one.
Even the leader of the "Northern Alliance," Count Zimbar, had no choice but to yield in the end.
"I… will comply."
Crushed by Ghislain's unrelenting presence, every lord in the assembly surrendered.
Though they had talked a big game about standing united against the "boy," none had the courage to challenge the North's strongest force outright.
Only after all the lords had submitted did Ghislain relax and smile.
"I'm glad you've all agreed to follow my command. Please arrange for supplies and operational costs promptly. Once the Rifts are dealt with and peace is restored to the kingdom, you can look forward to substantial rewards."
'Rewards, my ass…'
'We're going to end up penniless…'
'What kind of son did Ferdium raise to turn out like this?'
Despite their muttered complaints, no one dared voice dissent openly.
And so, the hastily formed "Northern Alliance" dissolved almost as quickly as it had come into being.
Rising from his seat, Ghislain left the lords with a final reminder.
"You don't need to send anything directly. I'll be dispatching administrators soon. Please prepare everything thoroughly, with nothing hidden."
"..."
Rumors had spread far and wide about the efficiency of Fenris's administrators.
Along with their ruthless reputation, it was certain they'd extract every last resource without exception.
The lords left with heavy hearts, resigned to scraping together every bit of wealth and resources their territories could provide.
After wrapping up the meeting efficiently, Tenant asked Ghislain, "Is this how you usually handle things?"
"Well, most of the time. I'm not one to drag out important matters."
Tenant chuckled faintly at his words.
Ghislain's heavy-handed approach didn't seem too different from what Lord Rodrick used to do—forcefully taking what he wanted.
But the purpose was entirely different.
Rodrick had been consumed by greed, focused solely on filling his own coffers. In contrast, Ghislain displayed no signs of personal avarice.
While others might call Ghislain greedy, someone like Tenant, who had served a truly avaricious master, could sense the difference.
'Is this... for the people?'
Tenant wasn't yet certain. But in Ghislain's methods, he sensed something fundamentally distinct from Rodrick.
Time would tell. If he stayed by Ghislain's side, perhaps he'd learn whether he could truly atone as a knight.
***
Marquis Perdiem didn't join the northern army. With the kingdom in chaos, the barbarian tribes were bound to stir, and he needed to prepare for that.
Amelia didn't join either. Having cleverly secured her independence in advance, she couldn't be forced into the campaign—and Ghislain had no intention of trying.
He knew well enough that if forced, she'd retaliate fiercely and cause endless headaches.
Judging by her request for eastern lands, he could also guess her intentions.
'Well, let her be for now. She'll be helpful in the meantime.'
When civil war broke out, the Duchy would undoubtedly find Amelia a thorn in their side.
Both Ghislain and Amelia had yet to achieve their ultimate goals. Their mutual exploitation had brought them this far, and for now, their paths aligned.
With Perdium and Rayfold excluded, the armies of the other northern lords began to gather at Fenris.
"The forces from Zimbar have arrived!"
"The troops from Bribant are here!"
"The soldiers from Promel have reached us!"
The North, being more barren than other regions, had a smaller population and therefore fewer soldiers.
But when the forces of all its territories were combined, they formed a considerable army.
Ghislain turned to Claude and asked, "Is everyone here?"
"Yes, about 60,000 troops have gathered."
"That's more than I expected."
"Our administrators were thorough in their collection efforts."
"They'll need to adapt to our discipline. There's no time for extensive training, so they'll have to learn on the march."
"They're going to hate the marching even more."
Claude grinned slyly, and Ghislain joined him with a chuckle.
"What about the mages?"
"We've gathered all we could find, but there aren't many. The North has always been sparse when it comes to mages."
"That's true. But we have plenty of our own mages, don't we?"
"Of course. We now have close to 200 mages. In terms of magic power, we rival the Duchy."
The mages from Rodrick's faction had all been captured and bound with royal approval to prevent their escape.
Ghislain now wielded the power to ignore tradition and law, forcing his will upon others.
Though betrayal, desertion, or incidents might occur, such risks were part of the territory.
"But Alpoi is overseeing the mages?"
"The sixth-circle mages and some fifth-circle ones are under Vanessa's care, but the rest are better managed by Alpoi and his associates. His temperament is perfect for keeping them in line."
"That... makes sense..."
Though uneasy, Ghislain nodded.
Alpoi had experience managing mages and had a knack for catching deserters.
The sudden expansion of the magic corps was a concern, but for now, Ghislain chose to trust him.
"What about the clerics?"
"Additional clerics have been sent from each order, totaling 120."
"Good."
One hundred and twenty clerics was an impressive number, reflecting the kingdom's reliance on Fenris.
"Piote is leading them, right?"
"Yes, there was some resistance, but we pushed it through under your authority."
"That's how it should be. Piote will play a crucial role in fighting the Rifts."
Ghislain grinned. While clerics couldn't participate in territorial wars, the battle against the Rifts was a different story.
It was time to put the pampered clerics to work.
"And the mercenaries?"
"We're actively recruiting across the kingdom. With the Rifts spreading, there's plenty of demand for mercenaries, so recruitment shouldn't be too difficult."
"Good. That's a critical area—don't hesitate to spend resources there."
"Understood."
With the preparations for deployment reported, Claude added, "The royal faction is pressing for action. It seems a few areas have already seen the Rifts expand, forcing the military to retreat."
"We told them to isolate any troops exposed to the Rifts, didn't we?"
"Yes, we've advised them to evacuate cities and fortresses for assessment and reorganization."
"Good. It won't stop the spread entirely, but it'll help mitigate it."
Ghislain trailed off, shaking his head.
Incidents were breaking out across the kingdom simultaneously. He wasn't a god; he couldn't oversee everything at once.
It was time to stop worrying about the small details and focus on the bigger picture—acting decisively to resolve the crisis.
"Let's move. It's time we got involved."
Fenris had a total force of 30,000, with 20,000 integrated into the northern army and 10,000 left to defend and supply the North.
At last, under Ghislain's command, an 80,000-strong northern army began marching toward the nearest Rift.
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