I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 31 Preparation for the Launch of the Guild

In the season when the heat reached its peak, summer in the north, albeit brief, proved to be quite fierce. Despite it being just 8 in the morning, sitting still meant sweat streamed down relentlessly. The situation was the same for the retainers.

Those attending the meeting donned lighter clothes. The administrative retainers managed by fanning themselves, but the knights wore terribly troubled expressions, primarily due to their armor.

The armor emanated an indescribable, rotten smell so intense that without proper ventilation, one could faint.

Being exorbitantly expensive, Plate Mails were handed down generations, some being over a hundred years old. Despite the discomfort, in this primitive world, such was accepted as the norm.

“I must look for iron substitutes for breastplates on Earth. The smell is horrendous,” thought one to themselves. Dame Leila, being a female knight, seemed somewhat mindful of the odor.

“Lord, the formal transfer documents have arrived from Revion Viscountcy.”

“Is that so?” She handed him the parchment, its condition far from good. Fungal growth and unidentified stains were omnipresent, a consequence not of poor craftsmanship but of the document bearer who hurried through the scorching heat.

Most parchment dealt with in the office suffered similar fates, especially unbearable by noon when the heat peaked. Therefore, Jeron chose to deal with documents in the morning and evening, spending his afternoons outside.

He skimmed the content. The deal with Viscount Revion had already been sealed contractually. When nobles put agreements in writing, absolute execution was expected, so scrutinizing the transfer document was unnecessary. He just needed to confirm the new borders of the territory.

“Good. It’s properly drafted. Sir Kain! With the newly acquired territory, can we start cultivating and connect a canal from the Baitan Lake?”

“Milord! Are you planning to start this year? Isn’t that decision too hasty?”

“Not at all. There’s a crop we can plant as soon as we commence cultivation.”

“We have long missed planting season, and it’s almost the rainy season.”

“I’m talking about planting potatoes. They’re also known as a ‘100-day crop.’ Typically, they’re harvested around 100 days after planting. If we start now, we can harvest before winter. It’s about time to harvest the potatoes we planted in late spring, very timely.”

“But, milord, our treasury is nearly bankrupt!”

Sir Kain’s forehead was beaded with sweat, partly due to the heat and partly due to Jeron’s words, causing him cold sweats as well. Nevertheless, Jeron was steadfast in his decision.

“Spare no expense.”

“Milord, I speak with utmost sincerity. Would it not be wiser to postpone until after the autumn harvest? Potatoes can be planted next year.”

“No. We must plant and harvest this year without fail.”

“Whose death are you trying to hasten…!”

Jeron strongly asserted his stance. While knights might merely follow Jeron’s command, Sir Kain, responsible for managing funds, couldn’t agree more reluctantly.

“Milord! Without new funds, the territory will inevitably go bankrupt. Losing the territory means the end for our family. Such a disaster cannot happen!”

“That will never happen. Sir Becken?”

“Yes, milord!”

“Explain, if you will.”

Nominated, Sir Becken cleared his throat before explaining, “Sir Kain, the guild in our territory is preparing to launch, and within a week, we will commence trade. We’re also planning to auction high-value items in the capital, and soon, a second shipment of food will arrive from Count Hanes’s territories. Isn’t this the perfect time to invest all our efforts into developing the territory?”

“A second shipment of food?”

“We have consistently sold precious metals to Count Hanes’s territory. This time, we’re expecting a shipment of 30,000 sacks of wheat.”

“30,000 sacks, you say…”

“How about it, Sir Kain?”

Eventually, with a sigh, Sir Kain conceded. The arrival of food in exchange for the second sale of precious metals would address the most pressing needs.

Furthermore, with the guild’s operation, the financial strain should ease significantly.The development project of the domain was decided to proceed without halt. The next agenda item was related to the military.

“Sir James, how goes the recruitment?”

“Yes, milord. We have carried out recruitment across the entire domain, initially selecting 500 individuals. During training, about 200 were dropped, leaving 300 who officially became soldiers. Currently, the total military force of our domain is approximately 850, and we plan to initiate the second phase of recruitment aiming for a total of one thousand this year.”

“Good. Aim to fill the ranks to two thousand by next year.”

“Yes, milord!”

“Sir Garcia, about the shields I distributed recently. How do they fare in use?”

“They are absolutely sensational.”

“Sensational?”

“Indeed, they are remarkably light and easy to maneuver. Almost all weapons seem to bounce off due to the shield’s solidity. The performance of the shield itself is outstanding, but the phalanx formation you devised, milord, seems to be the issue.”

“What might the problem be?”

“It’s that phalanx formation, sir. Our men find the unfamiliar formation quite challenging. Are you sure this formation will indeed prove effective?”

“Just train them. Consider it virtually a secret weapon of sorts. I guarantee it will shine.”

“Training is one thing, but the weapons pose another problem. The spear, being the most crucial part of the phalanx formation, I wonder when we could fully equip. Training with mere sticks has its limits.”

“Hmm.”

Though Jeron was not a military expert, having received successor training from a young age, he possessed considerable military insight. Spears were more expensive than one might think in this era.

The spears needed to be at least 3m, and up to 4.5m in length, involving significant costs for sourcing and processing the wood used. Acacia was commonly used for spears, especially prized were the red acacia.

However, large enough red acacias were rare, and even if procured, required saltwater treatment to harden the wood, further escalating the cost.

Even after acquiring suitable wood for the spears, the metal needed for the spearhead had to be at least mixed with mithril to ensure effective use in battle. Jeron planned to train a hundred spearmen, but was at a loss on how to procure the weapons.

‘There might be something suitable on Earth, especially in hardware stores of neighborhoods filled with detached houses.’

Such communities often had tools capable of extending up to 4m, making them quite suitable as spear materials.

However, securing high-strength aluminum materials for this purpose certainly wasn’t easy.

“It’s that damned money issue again. For now, continue training with sticks. Somehow, we’ll procure the spears.”

“I follow orders, milord. Thinking is not my concern.”

“Right, don’t think. That’s the spirit.”

Furthermore, Jeron reviewed the overall contents of the three-year domain development plan. The progress in waterway connections, road construction, completion of the fortress, and the upkeep of the villages, among other things.

Jeron had pushed forward with strong determination, supported by his loyal vassals. Everything was progressing smoothly, so he planned to visit the domain in the afternoon to check on it.

“Lastly, Sir Jenald.”

“Yes, milord!”

Sir Jenald stood up briefly and saluted.

“How is the scout unit faring?”

“We’ve expanded outposts to cover the newly acquired territories and are keeping vigilant watch. We’re also operating rangers.”

“Good. Keep in mind, Lord Revion could invade our domain at any time.”

“Yes!”

Jeron stood up and extended his hand.

His vassals piled their hands on top of his as they shouted in unison.

“Ready the motto. One, two, three!”

“Let’s live well!”

***

Under the blazing sun. Despite the heat, the domain’s residents worked hard, sweating profusely. Labor could be addictive. As long as Jeron paid wages properly, there was no dissatisfaction even amidst hard work.

The domain’s residents felt proud seeing the rapid changes in their domain and villages. To avoid the scorching sun, Jeron used a golf umbrella he had acquired from Earth, which effectively blocked the UV rays.

This was a clear privilege of the lordship. Naturally, knights could not dare to follow with umbrellas. Jeron arrived at the floral farm.On one side, potatoes were thriving and flowers were gradually blooming.

Soon, Specialty Product No. 1 of the estate would be harvested. Roses of all colors, along with an array of seeds unseen in this world. In particular, the vivid colors of the caras, daisies, and daffodils were exceptional. Dame Leila marveled at the field filled with flowers.

“Truly beautiful. If we sell these right, we could make a fortune.”

“It might cause quite a sensation. We’d just need to ensure they remain fresh by potting them.”

“Wouldn’t pots be rather expensive?”

“No need to worry. We’ve procured a large quantity in advance.”

In this era, most pots were made from glass, their shaping difficult and, therefore, expensive. Proper pots could only be seen in noble households. However, the plan was to sell these flowers in bulk, utilizing cheaper pots they had managed to accumulate.

Jeron strolled leisurely through the garden paths. The fragrant aroma. After living in a world dominated by the stench of decay, it felt like he had entered a new world.

Even if the flower business didn’t succeed, just coming here occasionally for some healing made managing a flower farm worthwhile. Jeron closed his eyes for a moment to savor the scent. During this peaceful moment, the village chief came running and bowed deeply.

“Milord, it is an honor for this humble servant to be in your presence.”

“Verion, you look well.”

“It’s all thanks to your lordship’s grace.”

Verion’s face had filled out incomparably. Even a small taste of power naturally improved one’s circumstances. This was an effect Jeron intended. Creating divisions among the serfs would motivate them to work harder, aiming for a higher status.

“Verion, any issues or complaints from the serfs?”

“How could there be? With three meals provided daily and a constant supply of grain, everyone is busy singing praises of your lordship.”

Jeron smirked at Verion’s smooth-talking. Getting a taste of power made Verion start to act like a politician. Looking around, the serf movement seemed effective, with the estate better organized than before. Seeing serfs work competitively confirmed that offering them a small wage was a good decision.

“Select 10 among those who work well to be mid-level managers. Soon, a thousand slaves will arrive. Half will be assigned as serfs, so manage them without any negligence.”

“Would I ever fail in my duties? I will follow your commands.”

Harvest time was approaching. The flowers grown in the Farrow estate would soon be sold, prioritizing distribution to 500 serfs. Jeron also ordered new territories to be cultivated with the arrival of more serfs.

“Keep up the good work.”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry about us.”

Jeron was quite satisfied with Verion’s assurance. He left the farmland and headed towards the walls. The construction was progressing rapidly, making a full tour of the estate quite the task.

At the walls, Jeron turned his attention towards the gate as the sound of galloping reached him.

Takatak takatak.

It was a messenger from the Langton duchy.

“Make way.”

The horse, foam at its mouth from the fast pace, showed how urgent the message was. The Duke Langton’s messenger, looking quite exhausted, handed Jeron a letter.

“Sir, a letter from the Duke for you! If you could reply by this evening, I can depart first thing tomorrow.”

The Duke Langton’s letter. Certainly, this was about trade rights. Jeron praised the messenger, weary from the journey.

“You’ve done well to come here. You’ll have your reply by this evening; rest until then.”

“Thank you for your kindness!”

Finally, what was awaited had arrived.