“Koko! Koko!” Alfoy, looking as pale as a ghost, ran around searching for Koko. Eventually, he found a group of dwarves drinking with Cain nearby. “Ah, this is delicious. It must be because it’s been so long since I had meat,” Cain said contentedly as he tore into a drumstick, the chicken roasting to a golden-brown over the campfire. Cain, recently promoted to oversee a team of 50 laborers due to his skill, was in high spirits. Although he had once been dragged here to dig tunnels against his will, he had adjusted over time and even started to take pride in his role. Of course, he still believed he should have repaid his thousand-gold debt long ago, but that was a different issue. Alfoy's eyes fell on the shape and size of the roasted chicken before Cain, and he began trembling. “Koko...!” Memories of Koko flooded back. From the time she was a chick, he had carefully fed her. As she grew, he even slept with her tucked beside him. —“My dear Koko, you’re so beautiful! Chirp, chirp!” The memory was a bit exaggerated, but to Alfoy, it was a cherished moment. In this challenging land, raising Koko had become a new source of joy after giving up gambling. And now, this uncultured brute was feasting on his beloved companion. “Aaah!” Enraged, Alfoy gathered magical energy in his hands and unleashed a blast of fire. Startled, Cain and the dwarves jumped to their feet. “What the—!” Cain yelled, while Alfoy stepped forward, shouting. “How dare you! How dare you roast... my beautiful Koko!” “What? Koko? What’s that? Some kind of food?” “You’re already eating it! I’ll never forgive you! I’ll kill you!” “What the hell? Who’s this crazy mage?” Cain, who had once been known as a northern thug, was no pushover. Massive and muscular, he had also learned a mana control technique befitting his noble lineage. He gripped a hammer, infusing it with mana until it glowed with a blue hue. Infusing mana into a blunt weapon was even harder than into a blade, but Cain, who had grown stronger through hard work, managed it easily. Drunk and ready for a brawl, Cain was in no mood to hold back. “Bring it on, you lunatic! I’m the heir of Roges!” “You think you're the only heir here? I’m the heir of the Crimson Tower of Magic!” The dwarves, seeing a good show, retreated to watch with beers in hand. As the two proud heirs prepared to clash, something suddenly darted out from the side. “Bawk! Bawk-bawk!” “Koko!” Alfoy beamed, rushing to scoop Koko into his arms. It seemed Koko had simply escaped from her enclosure and wandered around. Galbarik cautiously asked, “Are you sure that’s Koko? Can you tell them apart? They all look the same, you know. There are chickens everywhere.” Alfoy glanced down at the chicken in his arms. To be fair, it was hard to tell them apart. But he had already claimed this one, so he refused to back down. “Yes, it’s Koko! Look at the magnificent comb! This is definitely Koko!” Cain watched him for a moment, then shrugged and sat back down. “Crazy bastard.” The dwarves also settled back down to continue their meal. Alfoy, waving an accusatory finger, shouted at them. “You barbarians! From now on, I’m going vegetarian!” “Do whatever you want.” Fuming, Alfoy stomped off to his quarters, while Cain and the dwarves ignored him and resumed eating. While the workers enjoyed a rare drink and caused minor mishaps, Ghislain gathered his advisors to discuss their next steps. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖 With the incubator project a success, the advisors were in a celebratory mood. “Securing a large supply of meat is a major advantage here in the North. With ongoing food shortages, this will bring in a substantial profit.” “The soldiers and elves in training will benefit greatly from hearty meals. Vanessa has done an outstanding job.” At that, Claude jumped in. “This was all thanks to our lord’s foresight, was it not? I knew it would succeed from the beginning!” Everyone, including Ghislain, stared at Claude. “What? Why? Didn’t I object less than usual? Was I wrong?” It was true he had protested less, though, to be fair, he had mostly given up and let them do as they pleased. Ghislain clicked his tongue at Claude’s shamelessness before pointing to various places on the map. “You’ve all done well. Now, the priority is to distribute these incubators across the estate. I assume everyone understands how important this is?” “Yes! We plan to build large hatcheries in each area and provide farmers with a standard model for smaller incubators. We’ll also ensure they have clear guidelines for optimal hatching.” Unlike the large, automated incubators, personal incubators still required regular checks. However, just providing farmers with proper care instructions would double the hatch rate, which would be more than satisfactory. Initially, the estate would consume what the farmers produced while large hatcheries were constructed across the territory to boost production massively. Ghislain chuckled at Claude’s confident response, then looked to Vanessa. “Any issues with expanding to other regions?” “N-no! There shouldn’t be any major problems, though we’ll need to monitor the system a bit longer.” Despite Ghislain’s suggestion to rest, Vanessa had insisted on attending the meeting. Just because they’d succeeded once didn’t mean it was over. Long-term stability was crucial for maintaining the internal conditions of the incubators. The evaporation system, for example, could lead to excessive humidity or temperature drops if not monitored regularly. With this major accomplishment under their belts, Ghislain felt a bit more at ease. But he knew he couldn’t let his guard down just because things were going well. ‘My presence is stirring things up. The stakes are getting higher, and everyone around me is plotting.’ Using his past life’s knowledge, he was altering the future, yet the situation was growing increasingly unpredictable. ‘One misstep could mean death for everyone.’ Although the captain of Cabaldi’s knights had died trying to flee, his knights had fought bravely to the end. According to Belinda, they had even offered the fortress commander a chance to surrender, which he refused. Even a corrupt northern lord like Cabaldi had loyal knights. The other noble houses likely had even more formidable warriors. ‘There are still powerful knights I’ll have to face. It’s not just Desmond. The ducal family’s knights surpass those of other territories.’ As an enemy, Ghislain had to admit they were remarkable warriors. Having fought them relentlessly in his past life, he understood that to win against them, he had only one option: always stay one step ahead. The Fenris estate needed to become much stronger. Every village in the estate was now being integrated with nearby forts and castles, maintaining a perpetual wartime state. ‘Each fortress and castle must have adequate supplies. And to ensure quick coordination, there’s something we absolutely need.’ Studying the map, Ghislain drew lines connecting each castle, village, even Ferdium, and the northern fortress. The advisors looked at him in confusion as he smirked and declared, “It’s time to start a large-scale road construction project.” --- Meanwhile, Count Harold Desmond found himself in quite a predicament. With the loss of Cabaldi’s lands, his access to iron ore had been severely limited. Worse, his troop movements had been exposed. While he claimed it was for training, the pro-prince faction wouldn’t buy that excuse. He had managed to maintain a pretense of neutrality, but his efforts were now in vain. “Damn it... that brat has ruined everything.” Originally, he had planned to support Cabaldi, then sweep through Ferdum. But Cabaldi had fallen without even putting up a fight, leaving his plans in ruins. Now, starting a war was out of the question. If he acted recklessly, Marquis Branford would surely come after him. The position of commander of the northern army had also been taken from him. Although he hadn’t needed it, losing something he once held infuriated him. ‘And now, what? That brat became an earl? His father’s a marquis?’ Harold’s anger boiled over. The brat was using the situation to gather everything he needed. ‘I can’t go to war yet, but I also can’t let him sit on that iron mine.’ He would have to kill the brat soon. As Harold pondered his options, he turned to his advisors. “Are the spies still sending information?” He had received some information about the war but dismissed most of it as unreliable. The reports from his spies, however, seemed trustworthy. “They’ve integrated well among the newcomers, but contact remains difficult.” “Why?” “While the estate has relaxed its lockdown, security remains tight. Most of our agents work near the lord’s castle, and they only get a chance to meet when the trading caravans arrive. Also...” “Also?” “They say it’s difficult to take time off. The pay is good, so they’ve even been able to buy homes.” “...” Harold fell silent, unable to comprehend how everything went haywire whenever it involved that brat. He had sent them to spy, but they were busy working. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Harold asked about other matters. “Anything unusual?” “They report that the food supply doesn’t seem to be dwind ling. The estate continues distributing food to its people and even trades it consistently.” It was strange. No matter how much food the brat had stockpiled, it should have run out by now. Clearly, he had some means of acquiring more. Harold frowned. He needed more information. “What about sending an assassin?” “According to reports, he has over 200 knights, and most of his forces are stationed near the lord’s castle. The pro-prince faction has clearly bolstered his ranks. Even getting close to the castle would be a challenge.” Harold clicked his tongue. If an assassination attempt failed, it would only heighten the brat’s defenses. He would have to be patient, waiting for the right opportunity. ‘All this trouble because of one upstart!’ Grinding his teeth, Harold felt humiliated. Ghislain had risen at Harold’s expense. Had it not been for the food crisis, Harold might have lost his standing by now. One of his advisors cautiously spoke up. “What about attacking his cosmetics business?” “What would be the point? Hurting his finances won’t change the larger situation.” If he couldn’t kill Ghislain outright, attacking his business was pointless. Moreover, since the cosmetics business was tied to the marquisate, it could complicate matters further, increasing Ghislain’s vigilance. Aware of this, the advisor pressed on. “According to our intelligence, the new Earl personally handled negotiations with one of the trading groups. If we wait until he steps out again...” “When do you expect that to be?” “...” Since the cosmetics business had stabilized, Ghislain rarely traveled with his caravans. Waiting for an opportunity that might never come wasn’t a feasible plan. However, he was running out of options. “Order our agents to inform us the next time he leaves his estate.” “Yes, sir.” Neither Harold nor his advisors held out much hope. With their agents barely able to communicate, how would they track Ghislain’s schedule? Even if they could, timing would likely be an issue. ‘Should I just launch an all-out attack on his estate?’ Starting a war would be risky. Ghislain’s forces had grown, and the Second Corps still lurked nearby, watching. Moreover, Count Rayfold remained a threat. He was surrounded by enemies. Unless Amelia successfully instigated a rebellion and the duchy began a civil war, Harold had little chance of victory without significant losses. ‘Am I really going to have to wait for him to take a caravan?’ Then a thought struck him. Harold turned to his lieutenant. “Didn’t the Paril trading group once negotiate with him directly?” “Yes, sir.” “Good. If he won’t come out, then we’ll have to draw him out.” “Are you suggesting...” “We’ll sacrifice one of our own. Have the Paril group set up a meeting with him and kill him.” Covert infiltration had too high a chance of failure. But if they could lure him in close, a surprise attack might work. “Have them make him an offer he can’t refuse. Make it so he has no choice but to meet in person.” For this to work, Harold needed an established group not yet linked to him. It would cost him a valuable piece. Realizing this, one of the advisors cautiously protested. “Even if it succeeds, the losses would be enormous. We’ve invested considerable time building up that group.” “The brat’s continued existence is the greater cost. Send the duchy’s special wine along with them.” Harold had a rare wine, one of the duchy’s limited supplies, reserved for killing Rayfold’s captain of the guard. It was such a precious resource that the duchy only had a few bottles. For Harold to use it on Ghislain instead of sending it to Amelia showed just how desperate he had become. Seeing the cold murder in Harold’s eyes, the advisors didn’t protest further. To continue might redirect Harold’s anger toward them. Harold clenched his teeth and repeated his order. “Make sure they kill him. Tell them it’s an absolute priority.”