Marlowe raised an eyebrow as he laid out a hand-drawn parchment over the estate's newly varnished table. "We've got silk from the southern coast, spices from the Varnic caravans, and rumor of enchanted trinkets being traded in the Free Cities. If we position ourselves right, we can intercept half the traffic before it even touches the larger fiefdoms."
I leaned in, tapping the parchment where three lines converged. "These routes intersect just west of our estate. That junction... we need it. A toll outpost there could bring in hundreds monthly."
I paused then and leaned back. This conversation had already been had. We'd poured over these routes, established the networks, and discussed logistics to exhaustion. There was no need to repeat them. Instead, I turned to new matters at hand—ones that demanded immediate attention.
The merchants, having made excellent progress over the last week, were now fully entrenched within the estate's administrative functions. The air in the manor was buzzing with commerce: scribes taking inventory, clerks drafting tariffs, ledgers being checked twice daily.
Marlowe had since shifted focus. Today, he and the others met in the newly furnished council room, reviewing incoming merchant applications.
"These are just from the last two days." He dropped a thick stack of parchment onto the table.
I raised an eyebrow. "We'll need to start filtering them. Prioritize those offering services we lack. Tanners, masons, herbalists."
Gareth, seated near the hearth, chimed in. "One application's from a wine merchant. Claims to have an exclusive bottling technique."
"Let him in," I said without hesitation. "Unique goods add prestige."
Hollen scratched his beard. "We also have one from a former royal archivist. Says he was dismissed for insubordination."
I gave a small smile. "Perfect. Hire him. I like men who question authority."
The merchants chuckled, and we continued to sort through the growing pile. This wasn't just a fledgling trade hub anymore—it was rapidly becoming a microcosm of a thriving, autonomous city.
After wrapping up the administrative meeting, I made my way through the village.
I passed by the bakery and noticed Annika handing out warm loaves to children, her face radiant with joy. She noticed me and waved.
"Lord Cedric!" she called. "We've had over a hundred sales this morning. I'm baking faster than I can cool!"
"Excellent work, Annika," I said with a grin. "You're a cornerstone now. Keep it up."
Further down, Hans was polishing an ornate longsword on display outside the forge. Seeing me approach, he straightened.
"Lord," he nodded, a proud glint in his eye.
"I heard about the breakthrough," I said. "You've made quite the name for yourself."
Hans chuckled. "Didn't expect it myself. Just... followed instinct. The alloy sang to me."
"Then keep listening," I replied. "Your talent will shape the future of Thorne."
The estate was breathing—alive with productivity and purpose. My heart swelled with a sense of control and destiny.
As I turned toward the manor, a rider approached at speed.
"Lord Cedric!" he called, dismounting in a cloud of dust. "Royal envoys have arrived. The Duke's son himself is among them."
My eyes narrowed. "Bring them in. Prepare the great hall. Refreshments, seating arrangements—the works."
A quarter hour later, the great hall was arrayed in quiet grandeur. Velvet drapes, silver cutlery, and polished wood set the tone. My staff moved like clockwork. I stood at the center, waiting.
The heavy doors creaked open. A small party entered—five in total. At the forefront, a young man in a navy cloak with a silver sigil: the son of Duke Reinhardt, heir to the Duchy.
"Lord Cedric Thorne," he greeted. "I am Adrien Reinhardt. Here on behalf of the Crown to evaluate this estate's sudden prosperity."
"A pleasure, Lord Adrien," I replied. "Welcome to Thorne."
His gaze wandered to the frescoes, the marble inlays, the guards in polished armor.
"Quite a transformation. My father expected ruins."
I offered a small smile. "Ruins are only the beginning of rebirth."
We toured the village together. First stop: Hans's forge.
Further down, Hans was polishing an ornate longsword on display outside the forge. Seeing me approach, he straightened.
"Lord," he nodded, a proud glint in his eye.
"I heard about the breakthrough," I said. "You've made quite the name for yourself."
Hans chuckled. "Didn't expect it myself. Just... followed instinct. The alloy sang to me."
"Then keep listening," I replied. "Your talent will shape the future of Thorne."
Just then, a noble voice interrupted us.
"A B-Class blacksmith, here?"
I turned to see Adrien Reinhardt, Duke Reinhardt's son, with an expression of measured surprise.
"Yes, my lord," Hans said, bowing low. "I... I only found out this morning. Something inside me just shifted when working on the latest batch."
Adrien walked forward and examined Hans's hands and the sword he'd polished. "Unbelievable. This is royal forge level craftsmanship. You've gone unnoticed for too long."
Hans beamed, cheeks flushed. "Thank you, my lord. I never dreamed I'd hear that from nobility."
I nodded at Adrien. "Thorne may be small, but its flame burns fiercely. Hans is just the beginning."
Adrien gave a thoughtful nod. "A commoner craftsman reaching B-Class... there are Dukes who'd kill for that."
"I just give my people the tools and trust," I said.
Adrien looked between us. "It seems to be working."
"Would you consider having Thorne Steel weapons outfitted to your personal guard?" I asked.
Adrien turned the blade in his hand. "It depends on consistency, but yes... I will place an order. Trial batch, first."
Hans practically beamed.
The estate was breathing—alive with productivity and purpose. My heart swelled with a sense of control and destiny.
Next stop: Annika's bakery.
Annika, in her flour-streaked apron, offered sweetbread.
"Your Grace," she said with a slight curtsy, "a taste of home."
He took a bite. Eyes widened.
"Divine. If this is common fare here, you may well attract nobles just for the cuisine."
She blushed. "Thank you, my lord."
Adrien lingered a little longer, chatting with her about her baking methods, suppliers, and daily output. Her shy confidence slowly bloomed into animated storytelling.
"I learned from my grandmother," she said. "And now, I pass it on to the apprentices. They call me Mistress Annika."
Adrien laughed. "A fitting title."
"I could send a sample of your work to the royal kitchens. If it catches on... you might receive an invitation."
Annika's hands fluttered to her cheeks. "I... I wouldn't know what to wear!"
"You'd bring Thorne with you. That's enough," I said with a wink.
Onward to the merchant square.
Marlowe himself approached. "We regulate trade, tax fairly, and ensure quality. We even established a merchant guild charter under Lord Cedric's guidance."
"My lord Adrien. Trade thrives under Lord Cedric's reforms. We're establishing routes, tariffs, and even a guild charter. In just weeks, Thorne is becoming a central hub."
Adrien studied the bustling stalls, the orderly ledgers, the guards maintaining peace. "And you credit Lord Cedric?"
"Entirely," Marlowe said. "He doesn't just command. He builds."
Adrien nodded slowly. "It's not common for nobles to understand economy. This... is rare."
Then the barracks, where Victoria and her knights demonstrated a synchronized drill.
"Sword, bow, and shield rotations," she said. "Three drills daily, plus patrols."
Adrien observed. "You trained them personally?"
"Yes, my lord. They were farmers last month. Now they protect the estate."
He gave a nod of approval. "Elite work for a minor holding. Thorne breeds excellence."
Finally, the village square. Dozens of villagers gathered. Elias, Adrien's assistant, questioned them in turn.
"Are you overtaxed?"
"No!" a farmer named Callen shouted. "We've never eaten so well!"
"Do you fear punishment or coercion?"
"No, sir," said an old woman. "Lord Cedric listens to us."
Each response echoed loyalty. Genuine and unforced.
Adrien turned to me.
"This estate... it's not just revived. It's reborn. I expected a struggling fief. Instead, I find an emerging force."
I said nothing, simply gesturing for him to follow back to the manor.
Once seated in the council chamber, Adrien faced me with a contemplative look.
"Tell me truthfully, Cedric. How did you manage this? In weeks?"
"I gave people purpose. Listened. Enabled. Took risks."
"That's noble talk," he said with a smirk. "But you... you're playing a deeper game."
"I don't deny it. Thorne was left to rot. I won't let that happen again."
Adrien leaned in. "You've created something powerful. But it draws attention. The court will ask how you did it. Whispers will begin."
"I'm ready."
"You'd better be. Because what you've built... it threatens the status quo. I admire that."
I met his gaze. "So what now?"
He smiled. "Now? I report back. And you prepare. Because from here on, Cedric Thorne, you're no longer just a minor noble. You're a name. For now, you've earned not just their favor... but their attention."
Ding!
『Vassal Breakthrough Achieved! Hans – C → B Class
+300 Vassal Points Awarded』
『Estate Growth Milestone Reached! Royal Recognition Unlocked
+250 Vassal Points』
I smiled.
The wheel was turning.
And I was riding it to glory.