Pioneer Lord: I Have Conquering System

"You must come back safely."

Baisitina looked at the tall Lion Hunter Knight before her and hugged his waist tightly, like a little white beast.

"Don’t you worry. Once I, your Lord, conquer the Southern Territory, I’ll make you a Countess straight away. Who knows, I might even snag the title of Marquis."

Levi stroked Baisitina’s snow-white hair, his outlook rather optimistic.

The noble ranks of Debei, from highest to lowest, are generally Duke, Marquis, Count, Baron, and finally the Knight class, who can barely be considered nobility.

A Duke is the supreme leader of a region, his status second only to the King—truly, beneath one man and above ten thousand.

On par with them are perhaps only Princes, a title that can only be bestowed upon members of the Royal Family.

The rank of Marquis is quite special. Although it is the second-highest rank, just below Duke, it has the fewest number of holders.

This is because the title was a later addition. It seems to be second only to Duke, but its position is quite awkward, wedged between two older, more established ranks. For a long time, it was not taken seriously in Debei.

It wasn’t until recent years, through the efforts of His Majesty the King, that the rank of Marquis was finally stabilized as the second-highest title. However, the number of Marquises remains the lowest among the five ranks, as most Feudal Lords tend to subconsciously overlook this title when bestowing honors.

But the saying holds true: don’t underestimate a minor official. As awkward as the title was, on paper it was still ranked just below a Duke.

This southern campaign, aside from retaking the Southern Territory, was also a golden opportunity for the Lord to raise his own noble rank.

After all, merits from aiding a new sovereign’s ascension, expanding the realm’s territory, conquering a nation, or protecting the sovereign were considered the greatest of all achievements.

Once the Southern Territory was conquered, he would have accomplished two of them. Liya would have to grant him the title of Count at the very least, and even Marquis wasn’t out of the question.

"Mm." Hearing her Lord’s blunt words, Baisitina blushed and hummed softly in agreement.

"Brother-in-law, it’s time to go."

Glancing back, only the supply train lagging at the rear of the column was visible, which made Mier, standing at the side, speak with some urgency.

"Wait for me to come back."

Levi kissed her white forehead, then, resting a hand on the hilt of his Sword, he strode over without hesitation and kicked the boy, cursing.

"What’s the rush? You in a hurry to eat shit? Can’t you see I’m talking things over with your sister? You have no tact at all. How can I trust you to be my adjutant?"

"Brother-in-law, I just..."

Watching the two of them bicker as they walked away, Baisitina couldn’t help but cover her mouth and smile. But then she watched with worry as the High Cliff Castle contingent disappeared over the horizon, until not a single figure remained in sight.

"Tina, don’t worry. Levi’s strength is the greatest I have ever seen. Besides, he’s extremely sharp. Other people might run into trouble, but not him."

Miriel draped a coat over the young girl’s shoulders.

Although it was already March, the cold of the Northern Territory had not lessened in the slightest. In previous years, one could already feel the warmth returning by now. It could only be said that this year’s winter was unusually strange.

The Secret Silver Commerce Association was an enterprise of the Martel Family. She was merely the head of the association and didn’t have to participate in the war, so she happened to stay behind in High Cliff Castle to keep Baisitina company.

"The strong are often arrogant, and Levi is a prime example. I’m worried he’ll suffer because of that arrogance," Baisitina voiced a different concern.

But as things stood, all she could do was pray for High Cliff Castle in her heart.

...

In a stretch of barren land dozens of li from Bailiu City, the wild grass had been trampled flat and the yellow earth compacted to serve as a temporary camp for the Southern Alliance Army. Countless Counts and Barons, leading their private armies, had rushed here from all directions to assemble.

It is said that any force numbering over ten thousand creates a boundless, overwhelming sight. Having faced the alliance army of tens of thousands of Wilderness People on their northern campaign, the men of High Cliff Castle considered themselves veterans who had seen it all.

But as they approached the outskirts of this camp, their jaws hit the floor. It was a true eye-opener, making them feel utterly minuscule before the vastness of heaven and earth.

Beneath their feet was a wide road, packed firm and flat, broad enough for ten horses to ride abreast. Following the road with their eyes, they saw row upon row of white tents stretching across the land like the scales of a fish, as far as the eye could see.

Countless patrolling soldiers moved between the tents, mostly in small, orderly squads, their formations precise and meticulous.

Levi even spotted a squad composed of Giant Demon Warriors. These burly Half-Beastmen were nearly as tall as the tents themselves.

He found this quite novel; he hadn’t expected other nobles to use Alien Races as soldiers.

Especially a Race like the Giant Trolls, whom he had relegated to blacksmithing.

"My Lord, those are Count Winter’s Giant Troll Battleaxe Guard from the northwest of the Northern Territory. There are only a hundred of them, but they are absolutely elite."

"They wear Iron Armor and wield Giant Axes weighing nearly a hundred pounds. It’s said that just one hundred of them routed a Bandit Corps a thousand strong."

Leiden, mounted on a black horse, rode up to the Lord’s side at the perfect moment to explain.

As a competent commander, one must not only be clear about the enemy’s information but also have friendly forces’ details at one’s fingertips.

He had spent most of his time recently gathering intelligence on all parties. While he might not know everything, he at least knew something about everyone.

"Elite? Give me ten of my guys, and I’ll make ’em cry for their mamas."

Zat snorted disdainfully, picked his nose, and then flicked a finger.

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