Exiled from the Start and Dominating the Wasteland with an Intelligence System Chapter 74 : Chapter 74

Chapter 74. An Heir?

The next day, the atmosphere in the lord’s council hall was noticeably heavier than usual.

Seated in the place of honor, Eli let his gaze pass over every person present before his voice broke the silence in the room.

“Everyone,” he began, “you all saw the scene yesterday when the new arrivals were being settled.

The populations of Black Territory and Lucerne City have both increased sharply in a very short period of ti.

That has brought us labor. It has also brought us pressure. And more importantly… it has brought us unnecessary attention.”

He paused, lightly tapping a finger against the tabletop.

“Before he left, Manager Caron gave a warning. He said that our recent movents have beco a little too conspicuous.”

The mont those words were spoken, the sharper-minded administrators present—Buck, Scholar Alva, Old John, and the others—showed subtle shifts in their eyes.

“The first baron among the Frontier Knights. Taking Lucerne City in so short a ti, driving back the beast tide, and then carrying out two consecutive large-scale population transactions…

Any one of those things is enough to draw the attention of Thorn City, and perhaps even certain people in the royal capital.”

“Suspicion, covetousness, even hostility, may all follow.”

He swept his gaze across the room.

“For that reason, I have decided that for so ti to co, the territory’s guiding policy shall be this: keep a low profile, consolidate what we have, and strengthen our foundation.

All large-scale external population transactions will be suspended, as will any other actions likely to attract excessive attention.

We must settle down and turn the manpower and material resources we already possess into real strength.

Reinforce the walls. Intensify training. Cultivate the land more deeply. Stockpile supplies.

We must make Black Territory and Lucerne City into fortresses truly capable of weathering storms, rather than fat morsels that make others drool.”

“My lord is wise!” Old John was the first to rise. The old craftsman’s face was filled with deep approval.

“If the stride is too wide and the foundation is unsteady, it is easy to stumble! We really should steady ourselves for a while!”

“My lord has considered this thoroughly.” Vick also rose to state his position.

“There is an old saying in the South: a tall tree catches the wind.

To act quietly and grow in silence is the path to lasting success.”

The other administrators all nodded and voiced their agreent as well.

Eli’s concern and decision won unanimous approval from everyone present.

The territory had only just begun to take shape. No one wanted to beco a target for all.

Seeing that the room was of one mind, Eli gave a slight nod, and a trace of satisfaction appeared on his face.

Then he shifted the subject and raised his second decision.

“Population is our present. Children are the future of this territory.”

His gaze grew distant. “We cannot simply let them roll about in the mud and run wild between the work sheds. Knowledge is the spark of destiny.

I have decided to establish a schoolhouse within the territory and gather together all children under the age of twelve.

They will be cared for together, and they will be taught the most basic knowledge.”

“A schoolhouse?”

“Teach… teach children letters?”

“This…”

Expressions of shock, incomprehension, and even disbelief appeared on the faces of the administrators.

In this world, knowledge was an expensive luxury.

To read, to write, to understand arithtic—those were privileges reserved for the children of nobles and, at most, a portion of the rchant class.

To teach the children of slaves and freefolk?

Such a thing was simply unheard of.

Old Hadi, the seasoned Agricultural Officer, slowly rose to his feet. Trembling, he gave Eli a deep bow.

“rciful… so rciful, my lord! You are a truly rciful lord!”

Those words gave voice to the deepest desire of those at the very bottom.

Ulu suddenly slapped his shiny forehead and blurted out in realization, “Ah! So that is why you had count the children yesterday, my lord!”

He hurriedly stood up, pulled a wrinkled scrap of paper from his robes, and reported loudly,

“My lord! As ordered, we finished the count overnight!

Across the whole of Black Territory Valley, all children under the age of twelve— there are seventy-three boys and forty-eight girls, for a total of one hundred and twenty-one!

As for their ages… well, the oldest are around eleven or twelve, and the youngest are three or four.”

Eli nodded, then turned his gaze toward Scholar Alva, who was doing his very best to make himself unnoticed.

“Scholar Alva.”

The mont he was nad, Scholar Alva’s body visibly stiffened.

“Pfft!” At his side, Master Glenn let out an unrestrained snort of laughter.

“Heh! Old man, no escaping it now, is there?

Well then, off you go—ti to play schoolmaster to a pack of snot-nosed little brats!”

The color instantly rose in Scholar Alva’s pale face, and he shot his old partner a furious glare.

Drawing in a deep breath, he slowly rose and bowed deeply to Eli.

“My lord… I shall… do my utmost.”

To make a scholar who studied ancient history and the stars go teach children their letters and basic knowledge—

The contrast was simply too great. But a lord’s command was not sothing he could refuse.

Seeing the expression on Alva’s face, as though he had just been sent to the execution block, Eli’s lips curved faintly.

“You have my thanks, Scholar. Old John will assist in selecting the site for the schoolhouse and putting it up.

As for paper and pens, I will have Estor procure as much as possible.

The specific curriculum will be for you to decide.”

“Yes, my lord.” Scholar Alva nodded with the air of a man resigned to his fate and sat back down.

With the announcent of the two major decisions concluded, Eli declared the eting adjourned.

The administrators rose one after another and departed while speaking in low voices among themselves.

Very soon, only Eli, Aila, and Old John, who lingered stubbornly at the rear, remained in the great council hall.

The mont Eli saw the old man rubbing his hands and hesitating, clearly wanting to speak yet stopping himself, he knew that the old fellow definitely still had sothing to say.

“Old John,” Eli said first, “is there sothing else?”

Old John gave two dry chuckles. His wrinkled old face looked rather conflicted.

First he looked at Eli, then he cautiously glanced toward Aila’s still-flat lower belly.

That look was far too obvious. Both Eli and Aila instantly understood what he ant.

Eli’s expression stalled for a mont, while Aila let out a soft little cry.

A flush instantly blood across her fair cheeks, and she lowered her head reflexively.

Seeing their reaction, Old John stroked his grizzled beard and said with a beaming smile,

“Heh heh, my lord, Lady Aila… well… the territory can now be said to have entered the proper track.

But…”

He deliberately dragged out the word, his gaze moving aningfully between the two of them.

“The matter of an heir… now that concerns the continuation of House Pendragon and the future stability of the territory… a truly great matter indeed! Heh heh!”

The mont he finished, before Eli or Aila could give any reaction at all, the old rogue—perhaps afraid of being scolded—moved with a swiftness utterly at odds with his age.

With a WHOOSH, he slipped out of the council hall as though the soles of his boots had been greased.

“…”

Eli stared at the empty doorway and found himself montarily speechless.

That shaless old man!

Letting out a helpless sigh, he turned to look at Aila beside him.

Her embarrassnt had spread all the way to the tips of her ears. Her head was bowed even lower, and her long lashes trembled faintly.

The awkwardness Old John had stirred in Eli’s heart instantly softened into tender affection.

He wrapped an arm around her gently and drew her into his embrace, resting his chin against her silver hair, which carried a faint, pleasant fragrance.

His voice held both amusent and fondness.

“That old fellow… the older he gets, the less proper he becos. Pay him no mind.”

Aila buried her burning face in Eli’s firm chest, feeling the strength of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

Only then did her embarrassnt ease sowhat. Her small hand clutched tightly at Eli’s clothing as she muttered,

“…What John said… was right too…”

…

anwhile, in far-off Thorn City.

Sir Lucius sat behind his broad, cold desk of black obsidian.

Across from him, Marquis Marcus was holding a letter in his hand.

His rugged face was full of utterly undisguised delight.

“Hahaha! Sir Lucius! Look at this. That brat from House dici, Sabda—

he actually took Runestone City! Hahaha!”

Marcus slapped the letter down on the desk and pointed at the family crest upon it: serpents entwined with gold coins.

“Though it is smaller in scale than Lucerne City, the boy moved fast enough.

This is him making it plain that he wants to spar with Eli and compete over who gets the final say in the southern reaches of the Western Frontier.

Haha, interesting! Truly interesting!”

Lucius’s face remained utterly expressionless.

He picked up another letter and calmly passed it over to Marcus.

The seal upon that envelope bore a far more elegant and refined crest—a lively fish cleverly encircling a silver crescent moon.

Marcus took it with curiosity and quickly unfolded it.

A few seconds later, his thick brows shot up high, and the surprise on his face was even greater than it had been when he read Sabda’s letter.

“Well now! That little girl from House Russell in the East, Camilla Russell?

She did not move slowly either. She actually recovered a city as well?

Mapleleaf City? What… what is wrong with those remnant federal forces?

How are they being uprooted one stronghold after another by these boys and girls as though they were made of paper?”

He lowered the letter, looked toward Lucius, and made a suggestion.

“Sir, it seems those remnants are not much to speak of after all.

Why do we not stop waiting for reinforcents from His Grace in the royal capital?

Why not just send troops and sweep away all the remaining strongholds in one stroke? Better that than let matters drag on and breed future trouble!”

At last, Lucius lifted his eyes and looked calmly at Marcus, his voice as flat as still water.

“They are nothing more than… insignificant minor players.”

“Minor players?” Marcus did not understand.

“Then… Sir, Sabda and Camilla have both taken cities. What do we do?

Do we ennoble them as barons as well, just as we did Eli?

Would that not create the very problem you warned of before—sothing growing too large to rein in?

Three rising barons appearing all at once…”

For the first ti, sothing like a faintly mocking curve touched Lucius’s cold face.

The smile was so slight as to be nearly imperceptible, yet it carried a aning that made one’s skin turn cold.

“Grant it,” he said, speaking a single clear word.

“Not only shall they be ennobled,” Lucius continued in that sa even voice,

“they shall be rewarded with great fanfare. Let the whole of the Western Frontier, and even the royal capital, know it.

House La Roche is just and stern. rit will always be rewarded.

Baron Sabda dici of Runestone City, Baron Camilla Russell of Mapleleaf City…

Their achievents deserve to be known by all.”

Marcus was completely stunned. His thick brows knotted into a tight mass, and confusion was written all over his face.

“Sir, this… why? Were you not worried that they might grow too powerful? If you publicize them like this, then would that not…”

He simply could not understand Lucius’s intention.

Was he building them up only to destroy them? Or did he rely think the situation was not chaotic enough already?

Lucius did not answer Marcus’s question. He rely turned his gaze once more toward the gray, overcast sky outside Thorn City.

Let equally dazzling, equally ambitious new stars rise at the sa ti, so that they illuminate one another and check one another as well.

Only when those lights collided could the true master remain seated securely above the fray.

That was the best possible situation…