Boundless Family Upgrades For The Deadbeat Lord

By early afternoon, the full registration was finally completed.

Raymond returned to his administrative office with Lily, Marianne, Boris, and Edran Marr. The final ledger sat open on the center of the desk while Raymond leaned back in his chair, reading through the categorized occupations for the second time.

Edran sat somewhat stiffly in the chair opposite him, clearly uncomfortable being inside a noble’s administrative room, while Boris remained standing near the wall with his arms crossed.

Raymond tapped one finger against the parchment.

"Edran, how many of your hunters are physically capable of returning to the field?"

The older man thought for a moment. "Three immediately, my Lord. Two others need several days. Halrick’s shoulder was bitten during the attack, and Bren has frost damageon two fingers. They can still work eventually, but I wouldn’t put bows in their hands right now."

Raymond nodded. "Reasonable. The three healthy hunters will begin working under Captain Boris. Not as soldiers, at least not yet. I want them assigned as guides and scouts. They know the northern routes better than my current guards, and after what happened to Marden, I need people who understand how the migration behaves when it leaves the normal paths."

Edran immediately straightened. "They’ll do it, my Lord."

Raymond turned toward Boris. "Use them. But don’t treat them like disposable scouts because they’re new."

Boris gave him a flat look. "I wasn’t planning to."

"I know. I’m saying it anyway."

Boris nodded once.

Raymond returned to the ledger. "The former guard captain. Darric."

Boris glanced at the page. "I spoke with him this morning. He seems competent. No Mana cultivation worth mentioning, but he knows basic formation discipline and has commanded around fifteen village guards before."

"Good. Have him assist you with civilian organization. If more refugees arrive, we’re going to need people besides you personally explaining which end of a spear points toward the enemy."

Boris’s mouth twitched. "I’ll assess him properly first."

"Exactly."

Raymond moved his finger farther down. "The blacksmiths get priority."

Marianne raised an eyebrow. "Priority in what sense, my Lord?"

Raymond glanced at her and explained. "Workspace, tools, fuel, whatever we can reasonably provide. I want the old forge near the eastern quarter repaired immediately. If it’s beyond repair, find another building and convert it. We have weapons, hinges, farming equipment, wagon fittings, nails, tools, and God knows how many other metal components requiring maintenance. Two blacksmiths are worth far more to us working their trade than carrying baskets around the granary."

Marianne nodded and made a note.

Raymond continued. "The carpenters join the housing teams. Winter is already here, and if more people arrive, the existing communal longhouses won’t be enough. I want them inspecting every salvageable building and determining what can be repaired rather than demolished."

Lily looked down at her own notes. "What about the leatherworkers?"

Raymond almost smiled. "Perfect timing. Give them the Ironhorn Elk hides and Frostfang Wolf pelts we’ve stored. Have the hunters tell them which parts are valuable and which methods are normally used for Magic Beast materials. If they can process those hides properly, we stop treating the carcasses as nothing more than food."

Edran nodded enthusiastically. "Old Marrick knows leather, my Lord. His son is good too. They used to trade treated hides with travelingmerchants before Marden lost most of its hunting routes."

Raymond’s eyes sharpened. "Trade quality?"

"When they had good material, yes."

"Even better."

His mind was already moving ahead.

Magic Beast hides could become winter clothing.

Armor, trade goods. The Frostfang fur looked far more valuable than ordinary wool.

If Althoff developed skilled processing, they wouldn’t need to sell raw materials cheaply to merchant companies later.

They could sell finished goods.

That’s for spring, Raymond reminded himself.

One crisis at a time.

He moved to the herbalists."Marianne, put them in contact with whoever currently handles basic medicine in town. If we don’t actually have someone handling medicine properly, then congratulations, we just found two people for the job."

Marianne gave him a dry look. "We do have several women who handle common illnesses, my Lord."

"Good. Now they have help."

The farmers were the easiest.

Raymond didn’t need them immediately in the frozen fields, so he decided they would spendwinter working with Harlan, Gideon, and the five Agricultural Specialists.

They could assist with livestock, grain processing, seed sorting, maintenance, and most importantly, preparing for the hundred-hectare expansion Raymond intended to begin once spring arrived.

Every person received somewhere to go.

Not randomly.

Not because Raymond wanted to look generous. Because idle people consumed resources. Integrated people produced them, that distinction mattered.

Edran had been quiet for most of the meeting, but eventually he looked toward Raymond with a complicated expression. "My Lord... forgive me for asking something."

Raymond leaned back. "Ask.""Are we expected to repay all of this?"

Raymond looked at him.

Edran continued before his courage disappeared. "The food. Clothing. Housing. Treatment. You are assigning our people work, but nobody has mentioned a debt. In some territories, refugees are charged for everything they receive and spend years working it off."

Raymond’s expression changed slightly.

That sounded exactly like the kind of feudal bullshit he expected from this world.

He clasped his hands on the desk. "You’re not guests."

Edran frowned.

Raymond continued calmly. "I said this yesterday. If you entered Althoff under my protection, obeyed my laws, and registered yourselves as residents of this territory, then you became my people. My existing citizens don’t owe me money every morning because the walls didn’t fall on them during the night. Neither do you."

Edran stared at him.

Raymond shrugged slightly. "You’ll work because everybody here works. You’ll contribute because the town has to survive. If someone is healthy enough to work and deliberately refuses while living on everyone else’s labor, then we’ll have a different conversation. But I’m not creating a permanent debt class because your village got destroyed by Magic Beasts."

Silence filled the office.

Edran lowered his head slowly. "Understood, my Lord."Raymond watched him for a moment before turning toward Lily. "Update the registry. Remove ’refugees’ as their administrative classification once their households have permanent assignments."

Lily blinked. "What should I write instead?"

Raymond glanced at the population ledger.

The answer suddenly seemed obvious.

"Citizens."

Lily’s expression softened. She dipped her quill into the ink.

Raymond stood from his chair and walked toward the window overlooking the town. Outside, several Marden survivors were already helping unload timber near one of the communal longhouses.

A hunter spoke with two of Boris’s guards near the road.

Somewhere farther down the street, one of the newly registered blacksmiths was examining a broken wagon fitting while explaining something to a local worker.

It had taken less than a day.

Yesterday, they had arrived as eighty-seven desperate mouths standing outside his gate.

Today, they were becoming hunters, smiths, builders, farmers, guards, craftsmen, healers, neighbors.

Raymond folded his hands behind his back as a slow smile appeared on his face.

Maybe this was what building a territory actually meant.

It was taking people who had lost everything, giving them somewhere to stand, and discovering what they could build once they stopped worrying about whether they would survive until morning.

Behind him, Lily scratched out the word written beside the Marden households and replaced it carefully with a new designation.

[ Citizens of Althoff ]

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