The Warden of the Southern March had returned from Veloria, and with him, a storm of change was already brewing. By the time Cedric's carriage rolled through the gates of Thorne's newly fortified border, the entire estate was already abuzz with anticipation.
Word had spread fast. Not only was Lord Cedric now officially a Warden—a title bestowed rarely and with great responsibility—but he had returned bearing not only honor but also new trade contracts, royal favor, and most dangerously, attention.
-----
The village square had changed since Cedric left.
Where once there was an open courtyard of trodden earth, now cobbled stone paths weaved between new stone buildings with tiled roofs. Market stalls were fixed into the walkways, designed with wooden arches, Thorne's crest carved into the beams. Banners fluttered from walls and lamp posts—a golden phoenix rising from a blackened field.
Children ran alongside the procession, shouting, "The Warden returns! The Warden returns!"
Annika stood in front of her expanded bakery, now triple its original size. The smell of nutmeg bread and honeyed pastries swirled in the wind as she called out, "Warm tarts, Lord Cedric! You missed breakfast!"
Hans stood beside a crate of refined steel tools, waving with his soot-stained hand. "And a new batch of plow heads ready for export. You'll be proud!"
Cedric stepped down from the carriage, his black and gold cloak sweeping behind him, and smiled at the sight of his people. "I'm always proud, Hans. Annika, your baking might rival court cuisine soon."
Benwick whispered beside him, "I think she might've already surpassed it, my lord."
Victoria chuckled quietly at Cedric's side. "The court could use a little sweetness."
-----
In the village meeting hall, Cedric addressed the key figures of the estate. Marlowe represented the merchants, Annika and Hans for the artisans, Dame Victoria for the guard, and several council members who had been recently promoted from among the villagers.
"The King has placed trust in us," Cedric said, pacing before them, his voice firm. "We are now not only responsible for our estate, but for the development of all lands south of the Silverwood. We will face attention, envy, and scrutiny. But we will respond not with fear, but with excellence."
Marlowe nodded, his eyes alight. "The capital merchants are interested in our crafts. We've already secured exclusive trade rights for Thorne-branded steel and grain."
Annika raised her hand, then lowered it sheepishly when Cedric smiled. "Yes, Annika?"
"We've started training bakers from other villages. They say they want to learn our techniques... but they don't have our ovens yet."
"We'll build more," Cedric replied. "And we share knowledge freely. A strong south uplifts us all."
Hans folded his arms. "They'll come for our methods eventually. We need to stay ahead."
"We will," Cedric said. "By cultivating not just our economy, but our identity."
-----
That evening, Cedric strolled with Victoria through the newly expanded trade square, now lit with enchanted lanterns gifted by a minor noble from Veloria. Stalls were busy despite the hour, with traders bartering tools, bolts of dyed linen, spices, even small mana stones harvested from the nearby riverbed.
"This used to be a pasture," Victoria murmured. "Now it's a heart."
"A pulse," Cedric said. "Thorne has a pulse."
They paused before the training yard. Several guards—men and women alike—were practicing under torchlight. Benwick was drilling new recruits, and Hans was showing a young lad how to forge an iron spike.
Cedric spotted Eloise in the distance, inspecting uniforms. Her eyes met his, and she gave a sharp nod. Their interaction at the capital had added a subtle weight to her presence, and though unspoken, the loyalty in her gaze was clear.
A flicker of light caught Cedric's eye. A new notification shimmered before him, visible only to him:
Ding!
Vassal Eloise (A-Class Potential) has completed Loyalty Milestone II.
+500 Vassal Points Earned.
Cedric grinned.
"Something amusing, my lord?" Victoria asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just a little pulse," he said, his tone cryptic.
Preparations for Expansion
The following day, Cedric gathered his council.
"We'll use the points earned to expand infrastructure," Cedric explained. "New roads between villages, an academy for administration and trade, and a formal ledger system that can be replicated."
He invested the 500 points meticulously:
Trade Optimization Protocol [C] - 200 Points: Automatically improves efficiency of trade caravans.
Administrative Ledger Framework [C] - 100 Points: Allows better tax collection and logistics.
Vassal Upgrade Token [B] - 150 Points: Reserved.
Remaining: 50 Points.
He kept the last for flexibility.
"You're building something bigger than a village, Cedric," Marlowe remarked, his voice full of wonder.
Cedric simply smiled. "I'm not building a village, Marlowe. I'm nurturing a future."
-----
It was late afternoon when the last of the envoys departed from the village square. The warm light cast golden tones across the cobbled paths and wooden beams, bathing the newly upgraded training yard in a quiet, majestic stillness.
Cedric stood before the great hall, flanked by Victoria and Benwick, when a small procession emerged at the southern road. At first, it was little more than a trail of dust and the distant sound of hooves—but as the group drew closer, Cedric recognized the heraldry of minor houses and local village banners.
Benwick blinked, then squinted. "Those are… the banners of Melbridge, Porthan, and Greywell. Baronet Eldreth is among them."
Cedric nodded, eyes sharp. "It seems word spreads faster than expected."
The procession halted before the steps. The first to dismount was a stocky man in his fifties, clad in earth-toned armor and a weathered cloak. He approached with a deliberate gait and bowed low.
"Lord Cedric Thorne," he said, voice deep and gruff. "I am Baronet Eldreth of Melbridge. My lands lie west of here, five leagues beyond the old forest road."
Cedric stepped forward and returned the gesture with a measured nod. "Welcome to Thornehold, Lord Eldreth. What brings you here?"
Eldreth straightened. "The land speaks, Warden. And the land favors strength." He gestured behind him as two other men stepped forward—one a younger noble with sunburned skin and cropped hair, the other a silver-haired village elder with a staff. "We've come not to test your might, but to join it."
Cedric's brow arched, surprised.
"We've watched from afar," Eldreth continued. "While others squabbled over empty titles, you rebuilt what was broken. Our people speak your name—how food flows steadily, how safety returns to the roads, and how coin now travels to villages once forgotten. I won't pretend pride didn't keep me from coming sooner. But pride doesn't feed our people. Loyalty might."
The younger noble stepped forward next. "I'm Baronet Halwin of Greywell. Our stores are lean, our defenses thinner. My father died of fever last winter. I've barely held things together. But what you've built here—it gives us hope. We wish to come under your administration, as autonomous vassals, under your protection and judgment."
Cedric looked from one man to the next. "And the elder?"
The old man stepped forward and bowed with practiced dignity. "Elder Varn of Oakmere, Lord Warden. We've no noble title. We've never needed one. But we would kneel before you and call you Lord, if it means peace and prosperity for our children."
A long silence followed. The wind whispered gently across the square.
Cedric's voice was calm but firm. "You offer fealty of your own will?"
They all nodded.
"And you understand what that entails? Taxation, oversight, military conscription if necessary?"
Halwin spoke first. "Aye. We ask not for leniency—only guidance."
Victoria stepped forward, armor glinting in the evening light. "There are nobles in Veloria who will see this as ambition. Consolidation. They'll grow suspicious."
Cedric's lips curled into a slow smile. "Let them. If loyalty threatens the realm, then the realm needs reform."
He looked back to the trio. "Very well. Your fealty is accepted. Your lands will be administered under Thorne's charter. You will retain local authority under my command. We will begin by sending architects, scribes, and guards to each of your holdings. Your villagers will be incorporated into our civil registry."
Eldreth kneeled. "Then I swear to you, Warden Cedric Thorne, my loyalty and blade, and that of my kin."
Halwin followed suit. "So too do I, on the honor of my house."
Varn knelt last, his voice quiet but sure. "And I, in the name of Oakmere."
Cedric placed a hand on Eldreth's shoulder first, then each of the others in turn. "Then rise, my vassals—not as beggars or pawns, but as men who chose to build."
They stood, eyes shining with newfound purpose.
Benwick exhaled beside him. "We just gained three new holdings."
Victoria smirked. "Careful. You're beginning to sound like a count."
Cedric didn't answer. His gaze had drifted eastward, past the green hills, toward the capital that now watched every move he made.
But in his chest, a quiet certainty grew—like iron taking shape in a forge.
The South was stirring.
And soon, the realm would follow.
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Hey there! Author here. Might shift to two chapters of 1000 words each rather than one chapter of 1500. Let me know which ones you prefer ;). Also, be aware, tonnes of lemons incoming.