Chapter 301: Letter from the King

In mid-March, the early spring season was upon them, and the harvesting of winter wheat had just finished. It was now time for the annual spring planting, and the landscapes within the Glarmorgan earldom bustled with activity typical of the season.

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom on the third floor of the castle, the earl and his fiancée, along with their young maid, were enjoying a leisurely afternoon tea.

Emilia, dressed in a black and white maid's outfit, had her golden hair tied up, and the black pleated long skirt paired with white stockings and black leather shoes accentuated her now matured figure. After years with Ryan, the girl, now in her early twenties, stood elegantly like a blooming lily.

Having followed Ryan, Emilia had gradually regained her lively and cheerful nature under his protection. She had even studied at the Wintford Academy, receiving a higher education and living a noble's life.

With flushed cheeks, she stayed close to Ryan, serving him while occasionally stealing glances at him, a look of happiness on her face.

All these developments did not escape the eyes of Lady Knight Sulia, who thought well of Emilia's long service and care under Ryan. Sulia planned to officially recognize Emilia as a court lady and her own maid after her marriage to Ryan.

Today, Sulia was dressed in a conifer floral lace grey blouse and a walking skirt, wrapped in a long coat trimmed with white fox fur. Her long, sleek legs in black stockings stretched out under the table, her feet still in her favored bear slippers, holding the teddy bear Ryan had bought for her in Bordeaux.

Ryan was particularly fond of the lady knight's stocking-clad legs, which were beautifully shaped from thigh to slim calf. The transparent black stockings, made from unicorn fluff from the shores of the Lake of Fairies, were so finely textured that they appealed visually as well as to touch, which made the earl somewhat distracted.

Sulia shot Ryan a glance, her face blushing. Having grown up in the court, she was accustomed to wearing stockings, a symbol of nobility among highborn ladies, which Ryan evidently adored.

"It seems that fewer fugitives have been coming recently," Sulia diverted the topic as her gaze fell on an envelope on the table, already opened, bearing the king's seal.

"We have taken in nearly twenty thousand people recently in our domain," Ryan commented. At home, he wore only a simple shirt and trousers, glancing at the envelope, he joked, "Even if it were twenty thousand pigs, the disappearance of so many would be noticed by even the dimmest of nobles, let alone people."

"So, Ryan, will you comply with the king's request?" asked Emilia curiously.

Ryan stood before the table, pondering the recent developments. According to the information he had received, the serf uprising seemed to have been quelled on the surface.

After Duke Behrmond arbitrated in the capital of Curona, the kingdom's grand nobles finally shifted their focus from negotiations to dealing with serf escapes and rebellions in their domains. They rushed back to their estates, only to find their residences and storages destroyed, which infuriated them.

The rebellious serfs were quickly suppressed, with many being executed or hung en masse, leading to villages losing half of their population.

The lords had to issue orders calling for the fugitive serfs to return to harvest the wheat, or even hire hands from Marienburg due to the severe shortage of labor. The remaining serfs, who hadn't fled, were given some tax relief by their lords to ensure they didn't starve.

This was a necessary evil, as not many nobles were foolish enough not to understand the fundamental relationship between serfs and nobility; the serfs were the backbone that supported the nobility, who needed people to till their lands.

Unlike the Empire, where free peasants weren't burdened with such high taxes and no nobles would muster troops to protect them, in Bretonnia, nobles owned the land and granted serfs the right to farm it while taking on the duty of their protection.

"Return the fugitives? That will never happen in this lifetime," Ryan declared as he looked at the king's letter. He chuckled at Emilia, "Having children is too slow a process; harboring fugitives is the only quick way to boost our population."

"How can you suddenly bring up having children?" Emilia's face turned red, clearly thinking along different lines: "Ryan, really... we were discussing serious matters!"

Seeing where his young maid's mind had wandered, Ryan frowned slightly, turning his attention to the lady knight.

Sulia, too, was blushing, having thought similarly.

"Anyway, I'm definitely not sending these fugitives back, not after we've gone through so much to acquire this many people," Ryan quickly added.

"But... what about

 the king's command?" Sulia frowned.

In Bretonnia, although King Richard's power was weak, the spirit of chivalry was deeply ingrained in the nation. Unlike the Empire where powerful Electors could ignore or even reject the Emperor's commands, Ryan, as a vassal of the king, had at least to offer a superficial explanation.

"It's quite simple, really. Everyone bears responsibility for this situation," Ryan said with a smile.

Indeed, while Ryan's harboring of fugitives was somewhat underhanded, the emergence of fugitives was due to the nobles' failure to manage their serfs, leading to the current predicament.

"You can't manage your own serfs, and now you blame me for taking them in? How does that make sense?"

"It's true, King Richard's letter doesn't mention the fugitives at all," Sulia said as she picked up the king's letter and read it again. "Look, Ryan, the king only requests that you conduct a population census, ensure public safety, guard against bandits, and monitor the movements of the displaced. He doesn't mention the fugitives at all."

"That's right," Ryan nodded, beginning to discuss his suspicions with the lady knight and the maid.

King Richard's letter revealed much. Firstly, it was clear that the serf uprising in the north had been suppressed by the nobility, or at least brought under control, allowing them time to notice the mass exodus of their people and that southern nobles like Ryan were quietly absorbing these fugitives.

Secondly, Ryan's influence was now significant, and the northern nobility were clearly wary of him, hence their indirect approach.

"I have a bad feeling that this serf uprising might just be suppressed temporarily," Ryan told Sulia. "The nobles' harsh crackdown and minimal concessions might quiet the serfs for now, but the fundamental conflicts remain unchanged."

Both the maid and the lady knight nodded in understanding; as long as the core issue of the ninth-tax remained, any suppression of the serf uprisings would be temporary. The nobles' losses needed to be compensated, and the serfs' hunger would continue into the future.

Ryan believed that the winter wheat harvest could temporarily ease the tension between nobles and serfs, but as the spring planting season and the subsequent harvest passed, the food shortage during the lean months of May and June would likely lead to renewed unrest.

At that time, when conflicts reignited, a greater uprising could erupt, and Ryan did not believe that Chaos would remain indifferent.

He shared his assessments with the lady knight and the maid.

"Ryan…" Sulia looked worriedly at her fiancé.

"Prepare the army. I need to train an elite infantry capable of holding the line. It's too late to train more knights now," Ryan gently took the lady knight's hand. "The uprising wasn't an accident; all we can do is be prepared."

"Yes!" Sulia nodded firmly, glanced at Emilia still in the room, and decided to give Ryan a kiss on the cheek, "Let me help you."

"Okay!"

Emilia, holding her skirt, blushed and also quietly stood up to peck Ryan on the cheek: "Don't worry, Ryan, Sulia and I will both help you."

After doing this, Emilia, embarrassed, ran to the sofa and buried her head under a pillow, playing the ostrich.

...

Ryan's reply reached the Curona royal palace with extraordinary speed.

In his response, the earl was ambiguously critical, questioning why the northern nobles had failed to manage their own people, leading to a massive influx southward that disrupted his territory's public order and caused severe chaos.

Then, Ryan graciously stated that he would not trouble the northern nobles over this issue and would handle the security problems himself.

Lastly, Ryan "generously" noted that the number of fugitives in his territory was not as high as imagined, though there were some; he offered to return about three to five hundred fugitives to their original duchies.

In reality, the fugitives Ryan returned were lazy and idle men he did not want anyway.

King Richard was speechless with frustration, and the northern dukes and great nobles, busy with their unharvested winter wheat and chaotic public order, had no energy to bother Ryan for the time being.

And while Bretonnia was busy with its internal affairs, across the sea in the barren wastelands of the north, the Skaelings tribe, known as one of the most cunning and powerful tribes, had pledged their allegiance to the dark gods since Chaos descended upon the north, becoming devout followers.

This was a desolate and frozen region in the northern Old World, said to be touched by undying deities and home to countless nameless, formless creatures.

The men and women of the northern tribe dedicated themselves to the gods of Chaos, all robust warriors cloaked in fur, and without exception, they were formidable fighters.

Among

 these formidable warriors, the king of the Skaelings tribe, "Red Eye" Egil-Styr Bjorn, stood out as one of the greatest. Devoted to the Blood God Khorne, he called himself "Soul Hunter" and "Norsca Butcher." After challenging and slaying his father, he led the tribe for centuries, defeating other barbaric Chaos champions, mighty doom dragons, terrifying beastmen, and colossal sea serpents, dedicating their skulls to the bloody halls of Khorne.

This earned him the Blood God's favor, and Khorne anointed him as his chosen champion, granting him extraordinary longevity and immortality.

His only regret was not having a son. Countless barbarian women wished to share his bed, hoping to bear him a child, but they all bore him daughters, frustrating Egil who longed for a true barbarian warrior.

Despite slaying tens of thousands for Khorne, he remained childless.

Thus, the Chosen Champion of Khorne decided to venture alone, crossing the Chaos Wastes, slaying countless monsters and a Great Daemon, then returning to the Skaelings clad in red Chaos armor, his golden hair and beard adorned with iron and flashing with the fire of Khorne, his magnificent armor festooned with the skulls of his vanquished foes as offerings to the Blood God.

At an altar made of countless skulls, he prayed to the supreme Blood God for a son.

His prayer was answered. The oracle of Khorne came to him:

"The woman who can bear your son lies to the south, in Bretonnia. Go, destroy the lesser people of the south, and bring true civilization to them, my champion."

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