Territory Development!

Before Viscount Lance claimed this territory, it was a land cloaked in poverty and hunger. The meager harvests each year barely fed the local population. The villagers from the surrounding hamlets often endured days with just a single meal, and sometimes none at all. Consequently, the sight of a long-lived elder was a rarity; malnutrition was widespread, and the harsh winters claimed many lives, particularly among the elderly who lacked adequate food and clothing.

The youth, bound by necessity to their land, could not venture out in search of work. They toiled from spring through autumn, sowing and reaping what little the soil yielded. Come winter, they ventured into the mountains, risking their lives hunting rabbits, birds, and occasionally, small wild boars. Encountering a large wild boar could mean the difference between a lucky escape and a fatal misfortune.

The region was further plagued by these wild boars that, during the autumn harvest, would ravage the already scant crops. This compounded the scarcity, leaving the villagers in a perpetual state of desperation. The previous viscount, recognizing the fief's lack of profitability, had requested a transfer, leaving the land neglected as no other noble was willing to inherit such a destitute domain. To them, investing in this land meant no opportunity for tax collection and possibly the burdensome need to distribute their own resources to aid the people, a prospect utterly unpalatable to the greedy nobles.

In the eyes of these high-born lords, the inhabitants were untouchables, unworthy of attention unless they could be economically beneficial. Consequently, the local men were never conscripted as soldiers; their gaunt, frail forms and pallid complexions spoke of their incapacity for battle.

Amid this bleakness, Viscount Lance arrived. His presence was marked by a noble's certificate and a hopeful smile. His first proclamation was both bold and bizarre: "From now on, you are all my people. Where is my Viscount's Mansion? Are there any cute and beautiful maids?"

When the local maids were presented to him, his reaction was one of muted disappointment. He observed their threadbare dresses and lackluster appearances, reflecting silently, "This is not the maid I imagined. Not as white as me, nor as pretty." His naive expectations met the harsh reality of a people worn down by hardship.

Despite his initial shock, perhaps recalling the foolish transaction that granted him this title for a mere thirty gold coins, a decision mocked by the more seasoned nobility, Viscount Lance chose to stay. He did not flee as many thought he would. Instead, he spent the ensuing days with Captain Tissia's father and a few other loyal knights, assessing the true state of his fief. It was not long before they uncovered the core issue: the land's barrenness was the root of its unyielding poverty.

Revitalizing the land was a necessity acknowledged by all in the village. As lifelong farmers, the villagers understood the importance of tending to the soil. Despite their efforts, the land remained barren and unyielding.

Viscount Lance, assessing the situation, pointed out the inadequacy of their methods. "It's the quality of your materials," he declared. Within days, he procured a batch of superior farming supplies to aid their efforts.

"Respect the land," Lord Lance advised. "It sustains us, and in return, we must nurture it to maintain a harmonious cycle."

After providing his initial guidance, Lord Lance departed, leaving the villagers skeptical of his return. To their surprise, he reappeared about ten days later, this time bearing a cache of exceptional fertilizers. Unbeknownst to them at the time, these were no ordinary additives; Lord Lance had brought back dragon dung, a substance of mythical potency.

With the application of this magical fertilizer, the terrain transformed. Wild boars no longer ventured near their crops, and occasionally, rabbits, overwhelmed by the enriched soil, were found lifeless in the fields. The nights became quieter, with wild animals steering clear of the village, confirmed by thorough patrols over several nights.

The first year of diligent land cultivation yielded a promising harvest, and by the second year, the grain was abundant. The villagers, once gaunt and frail, began to thrive, their bodies filling out as nutrition was no longer scarce.

Three years into this transformative process, a peculiar problem arose, dung thieves. Caught trying to steal the valuable fertilizer, they faced severe retribution from the community but were ultimately spared harsher penalties by Viscount Lance's mercy; he imposed fines instead of harsher punishments.

In the fourth year, on the eve of his sudden disappearance, Viscount Lance remarked on the improved health and beauty of the maids at his mansion, a testament to the prosperity his efforts had brought. The next morning, he was gone.

For nearly six years, in Lord Lance's absence, periodic deliveries of the precious dragon manure continued to arrive. The villagers later discovered the true nature and immense value of the fertilizer, worth a fortune in silver or even gold coins elsewhere.

Despite this, when adventurers and bounty hunters came, offering lavish sums for the dragon manure, the villagers refused. They knew the risks their lord had taken to secure this boon. Selling it would not only be a betrayal of his sacrifices but a desecration of his legacy.

"The land feeds us, and we must feed the land," Viscount Lance had said. This principle became a creed for the villagers, a promise to honor the cycle of sustenance that their lord had reestablished, no matter the temptations or trials they faced.

As the land prospered, so too did the people of the village, their well-being visibly improving. The villagers grew healthier and their smiles brighter, particularly those of the children, whose laughter seemed to echo the newfound richness of the soil.

The young women of the village blossomed in beauty, a transformation not unnoticed by Viscount Lance, who had a fondness for grace and elegance. Dreaming of a better life for their daughters, many parents aspired to send them to the Viscount's mansion to serve him, perhaps as maids attending to his daily needs with tea and water, or even as future knights defending his honor.

In gratitude to Viscount Lance for his role in their transformation, the villagers renamed their town Saint Blue Town. They even changed the color of the knight's uniforms to blue and gold, and if a building was repainted, it too was adorned in blue with intricate patterns, transforming the village into a reflection of the oil paintings Lord Lance had created before his departure. These images laid out his grand vision for their future, a testament to his enduring care.

However, even such a benevolent lord faced challenges. During his mysterious absence, there were whispers from the royal capital about revoking his title. But the villagers, steadfast in their loyalty, refused to accept this. They negotiated fervently with the capital until the rebellion led by Grand Duke MacDonald. Aligning with MacDonald, they found not just an ally but a promise: not only would their Viscount's title remain secure, but it could even elevate to an earldom should they prevail.

And prevail they did. The royal family was overthrown, the princess vanished amidst the chaos, and through it all, the villagers protected their beloved Viscount's legacy.

"Captain Tissia, please, record a video and send it to Lord Lans. Let's see if he still recognizes me," one villager requested, hoping to reconnect with the Viscount.

"Okay," Tissia responded, promptly sending a photo along with the video.

Shortly thereafter, a message from Viscount Lance arrived, his tone a mix of humor and disbelief: "[Who the hell raised my delicate maid into a pig?!!]" This light-hearted jest from the Viscount not only showed his recognition but also his enduring connection to the village he had transformed.