Medieval Knight System: Building the Strongest Empire Ever!

Most of the clothes the locals wear can be made at the meeting hall, but you can’t expect much in the way of quality. That’s why I mean to entrust the work to the seamstress. In any village, women always outnumber men.

In a Europe where days of war outnumber days of peace, a shortage of men was inevitable. That’s precisely why women’s labor became so important. I can’t afford to waste labor over some superstition.

Besides, who in Rosenheim could defy my will?

Anyone who tried would be either a fool or a reactionary.

After the Streit Gunners’ training ended, I went out to patrol Feuzen.

This time I brought Hans along.

"Are the migrants and the locals still brawling?"

"They’ve settled down since you returned, Master."

"Once I move to Rosenheim, they’ll stir up trouble all over again."

"I won’t be here then either, so I worry things might get out of hand."

Daniel and Sabine had been busy since morning with the moving preparations. Hilda had them hurry things along, believing it wasn’t good for the master of Rosenheim to keep lingering in Feuzen.

Göring was advising the flustered pair, teaching them how to handle everything. The servants were noticeably hard at work checking supplies and packing.

"I’ll have to settle this problem before then."

"Do you have a way?"

"First, I’ll gather the representatives and talk it out."

It’s not a problem I can judge after hearing only one side. Coordinating and mediating between both sides is also a lord’s duty. It’s no different from a king arbitrating disputes between his princes.

If there’s a difference, it lies in power. A king racks his brain over how his princes will react, whereas I have no need to worry about how my people will react. That’s why hardly any nobles clamor to become king.

Winter, the manager of the Feuzen ranch, praised Chrysos to the skies.

"Chrysos is a truly fine horse. She has more stamina than Schatten or Mont Blanc and runs longer. And even though she’s a mare, she’s so fierce the stallions can’t do a thing around her."

"It should be quite a sight when she goes into heat."

Chrysos is an active war horse, so she was excluded from breeding. Schatten and Mont Blanc had already gone through one round of breeding, impregnating 20 mares between them. Truly impressive fellows.

"Do you plan to stay on here?"

"If you’ll allow it, I’d like to spend the rest of my life here."

Winter’s family home is in Rosenheim, which was exactly why he shrank from returning to his hometown. When he was dragged off by the Burgundian soldiers, his ties with his family were effectively severed. So I respected Winter’s wishes.

"And what are you doing here?"

"I came to ride, obviously. Ever since my sister taught me to ride, I’ve been coming every three days."

"Miss Lily! Eyes forward!"

Angela was beside herself with worry.

"What if you fall off? What will you do if you scar your face?"

"Heh heh, Brother, you’ll be amazed when you see how well I ride."

Lily was brimming with confidence, and she did ride surprisingly well. No wonder she was so sure of herself. But the horse she was riding was Rotbraun, the reserve horse. He’s a gentle fellow, so it seems Lily had taken a liking to him.

"Fran is such a sweet, wonderful horse."

"Fran? Don’t tell me you named him after His Highness the crown prince?"

Lily’s eyes went wide. That reaction told me everything. She had definitely named the horse after Franz. It was also the pet name Hilda had used for the crown prince since childhood, so I caught on at once.

"H-how did you know? Even Angela doesn’t know!"

"You’re easy to read. Honestly, naming him after His Highness."

"...Will Franz be upset with me?"

"No, if you ask me, he’d actually be delighted."

That’s exactly the sort of thing Franz would love. Lily, apparently relieved, beamed. In any case, the horse now responds more readily to the name Fran than to Rotbraun. At this rate, he can hardly be called a reserve horse.

"If you like him, I’ll give him to you."

"Really? You’ll give Fran to me?"

"I already have two thoroughbreds. I’ve no occasion to ride him."

"Wow! Thank you, Brother! I’ll take wonderful care of him!"

It was such an unexpected gift that Lily was overjoyed.

Angela sighed and gave up on trying to stop her.

To think she could be this happy over the gift of a single horse. Maybe I should have looked after her more all along. The royal family owns plenty of thoroughbreds, but no one would hand a fierce thoroughbred to the crown princess.

If she fell from a horse while pregnant, it would be a disaster.

Banning Hilda from riding was for the same reason.

A gentle horse like Rotbraun, no, Fran, rather than a fierce thoroughbred, was something even the crown prince wouldn’t object to. It’s not as if Lily will ride hard enough to be called a Valkyrie like Hilda or Elisabeth.

Leaving Lily behind as she excitedly circled the ranch, I next visited Arzt’s clinic.

Pregnant women made up most of the visitors, and it’s all because of the Population Growth 10% passive skill. Now that Feuzen has become a holy site for heirs, Arzt’s clinic has turned into an obstetrics ward.

The problem is that Arzt’s specialty is surgery, but with the help of a midwife who had long cared for expectant mothers, he was studying hard while seeing patients. His wife’s support was especially significant.

"With pregnant women suddenly multiplying, you must have your hands full."

"M-my wife has it h-harder than I-I do."

"Ah, I heard your wife is expecting too. Congratulations."

"It’s a-all thanks to your m-mercy, my lord."

Arzt still stuttered, but no one mocked him. I had given a stern warning that anyone who did would be severely punished. As Feuzen’s only physician, he was far too important to lose.

"If you need anything, request it from Daniel at any time. I’ll get you whatever it is."

"I’m a-already receiving m-more support than I d-deserve. I’m h-humbled."

"You’re caring for the Boeven migrants without discrimination too, right?"

"H-how could I d-d-discriminate? O-only, m-many people c-come in i-injured, and M-Mr. Dressel c-comes most o-often."

"Dressel? Who’s that?"

"The farmer who causes the most trouble."

Hans answered in Arzt’s place. This farmer Dressel deeply resented outsiders putting down roots in Feuzen and was, by all accounts, the spearhead of the hardliners who picked fights with the migrants at every turn.

And right now he’s sitting in jail. He caused trouble before I returned, so Hans locked him up. The problem is that he’s been jailed five times and still hasn’t come to his senses.

"If he causes trouble again, banish him this time."

"What about his family?"

"His family is guilty of nothing, so drive him out alone."

"Understood."

Banishment is as good as a death sentence. With luck he might become a bandit, but most men starve to death before they manage even that. And there aren’t many bandits around Feuzen.

Thanks to the attention paid to public order.

Leaving the center of Feuzen, I entered the outskirts. It was the district where the Boeven migrants had settled, and the moment I stepped in, I could feel the air change. Hmm, even the atmosphere is different.

"Public order here doesn’t look so good."

"We run patrols, but the place has a bit of a slum feel to it."

"If Feuzen grows, this district will turn into a proper slum, won’t it?"

"It’s winter, so the farmers with nothing to do gather around here, and their constant friction with the established farmers is the problem. The mistress ordered us to crack down on this area in particular, so I’ve been paying it special attention, but it just isn’t getting resolved."

"Did it get this bad because bastards like Dressel keep harassing them?"

That seemed highly likely. When selecting the migrants, we had focused on screening their dispositions, and most were of mild temperament, so there was little chance of them starting anything.

Sending the migrants over was all well and good, but the problem was that I had headed east without ever getting the chance to settle them in properly, so with the lord of the land away, the rift seems to have deepened all the more.

I sensed instinctively that the conflict between the Boeven migrants and the Feuzen locals wouldn’t be easily resolved. Every village was a closed environment, and a culture had formed that didn’t welcome outsiders.

In a village as small as Feuzen, it was that much worse. Even my retainers were accepted only after tireless efforts to befriend the Feuzen residents, and even then, it was surely above all because they served the lord.

"To be honest, it was worse than this at first. It improved a great deal after the mistress hired two former guards from among the Boeven migrants, along with a few more farmers, and stationed them here."

"Hilda handled it well."

"There’s plenty of grumbling about migrants being hired as guards, too."

"Who on earth is grumbling?"

"Mostly the older villagers."

In other words, old codgers parochial to the bone. If there’s any consolation, it’s that the younger generation isn’t afraid of contact with outsiders and mingles with them in secret, out of the old folks’ sight.

Leaving the matter alone any longer would be dangerous, so in the end I summoned the representatives of the Boeven migrants and the representatives of the Feuzen locals.

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