TL: Etude


    Paul felt a surge of unease as he observed the fervent, almost envious gazes of his subordinates.


    If he couldn’t deliver what they desired, would they unite against him and overthrow him, just like Malron’s father had been?


    The officials from the Administration Council were manageable. Being from the civil service, they could be appeased with abination of honorary titles and material rewards.


    But what about the military leaders, those who had proven themselves in battle?


    Of course, having been a lord for two years, Paul had led troops, fought wars, quelledwless pirates, and contended with the arrogant Kent family. He had weathered many storms and, despite his internal fears, maintained a dignified demeanor.


    He pondered his next steps, maintaining aposed exterior.


    Suddenly, a loud “snap” shattered the momentary silence.


    The sound drew everyone’s attention in the hall to its source.Ladi Sertia Gerard, the green-haired female advisor and acting head of the Department of Education, mmed her notebook shut.


    Standing up at a measured pace, the usually silent and note-taking advisor during meetings suddenly became the center of attention.


    “Ladies and gentlemen,” she spoke slowly, “the Count has announced the end of the meeting. It’s time for us to return to our duties.”


    Her voice was calm but carried an indescribable authority, Paul noticed.


    She nodded at Paul, “Lord Grayman, I take my leave.”


    Then, picking up her notebook, she left.


    “Ah, we should also take our leave!”


    “We need to get back to work.”


    Following Ladi’s departure, everyone got up and left the hall, though their expressions were sullen.


    Paul was left in confusion.


    They just… left?


    What about the coup?


    Ah, spit it out! Am I suffering from paranoia? Why would I doubt my (so far) loyal subordinates?


    After sitting in his chair for a long time, Paul had an epiphany.


    It must be Ladi! She must have used some unknown method to make the attendees leave obediently.


    He had experienced Ladi’s abilities in the church at Port Fran, which she called “suggestion.”


    What? Had Ladi evolved to the point where she didn’t need to re through her sses to suggest?


    Was he already under her “mind control” without realizing it?


    Wait, wait, wait, she just solved your problem, how can you suspect her like that?


    Ah, right, a suggestion works only if the other person also thinks it’s correct. So, that means…


    Paul’s brain whirred into action, thinking of a solution.


    He needed to choose someone loyal, who considered the bigger picture and had made significant contributions…


    He made his decision.


    …


    “Achoo!”


    Bryce, sitting in the first infantry battalion’s office, sneezed. Rubbing his nose, he continued to ponder the events at the end of the meeting.


    Really, could the Count have forgotten about that matter?


    The news that the Grayman family had the right to grant fiefdoms spread quickly among the upper echelons, leading to much spection.


    Especially among the military leaders! Not to mention that most of the high-ranking officers were generations of “knights” for the Grayman family. Since the Count’s ession, they had made significant achievements. ?


    Eliminating pirates, quelling the Baylding rebellion, defeating the watchful Kent family – these series of wars had expanded the Grayman family’s controlled poption and territory several times over.


    Surely this counted as expanding and developing territory?


    For achievements such as expanding territories, the most fitting reward was naturally granting the contributors a piece ofnd.


    The thought of bing a titled noble stirred even someone like Bryce. Previously, they were just unrecognized knights, but now, they had the opportunity to leapfrog to true nobility!


    Bryce wasn’t greedy; he only desired five viges near his manor and a small forest. As for a title? A vicounty would suffice… no, a barony would be enough. Contentment is important!


    The prospect of havingnd and a title to pass down through generations excited Bryce immensely.


    Not only would it benefit his descendants, but it would also bring honor to his ancestors. His family could rightfully update their genealogy.


    With his ownnds, he would continue serving under the Count, and after growing old, he would retire there.


    He fantasized about a carefree life, hunting with falcons, dogs… and omitted thest part of his thoughts.


    Such an idyllic life!


    “Report!”


    A guard’s voice interrupted “Lord Bryce’s” daydreaming about the future.


    “Come in.”


    “The butler from the lord’s manor, Philip, is here to see you.”


    “What? Quick, let him in!”


    The white-haired but spry butler was soon ushered into the office.


    Bryce rose to greet him. “Ah, Butler Philip, you could have sent someone to summon me. I would’ve hurried over immediately.”


    Old Philip adjusted his sses and smiled. “The Count himself sent me.”


    “Oh? Does the Count have something important?”


    “Not exactly. He would like to invite you to dine with him at the manor at 7 tonight.”


    “That’s an honor! Will there be others?”


    Philip shook his head. “Not that I know of, you’re the only one invited.”


    “What?”


    Bryce was surprised but quicklyposed himself. “Please tell the Count I’ll be there on time.”


    After respectfully seeing off the butler, Bryce felt a wave of excitement.


    Lord Grayman invited me alone!


    What could it be for? He pondered, wondering if it was about the reward.


    Lord Grayman didn’t invite anyone else, just him. Bryce felt a surge of excitement.


    Indeed, apart from old Ford, he was the true backbone of the Grayman family, even ahead of Cecil.


    Bryce was confident about this.


    “I am the Count’s loyal hound,” he always believed.


    He immediately sent word home that he wouldn’t be back for dinner and began preparing meticulously.


    …


    “nk! nk!”


    Apanied by the sound of metal friction, a peculiarly dressed figure approached the manor’s main gate.


    He was called peculiar because he was d in full knight armor – the kind that covers every inch from head to toe.


    Such attire had long disappeared in Lakeheart Town since Paul reformed the army and equipped them with firearms.


    The Alda army still had metal armor, like breasttes and helmets, but they were lighter.


    More notably, the visitor wore arge red cloak on his back.


    He seemed like a character straight out of a knightly novel.


    That’s what the manor guards thought.


    As they approached to inquire, the “knight” removed his helmet with a face shield.


    “Lord Bryce?”