I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 30. Viscount Revion (3)

Inside the Barracks of Farrow Domain. Currently, around 500 soldiers were stationed in the barracks of Farrow Domain.

A few months ago, when the former lord led troops on an expedition to subdue barbarians, a significant number fell in battle, and the invasion of barbarians into the domain itself caused considerable damage.

Plans were underway in Farrow Domain to increase the troops up to 2,000, but so far, they hadn’t even achieved half of that goal. While there was some progress, it was still insufficient, and the soldiers lived in shanty-like conditions.

The opportunity for commuting had only become available recently. For the soldiers, affording housing in the barony’s city was a challenge, so many lived here.

The military discipline among the soldiers had utterly disintegrated. Helmets and armor were carelessly hung everywhere, and spears or swords were strewn about the floor.

Though the armaments were being replaced with new ones, certain armors and weapons, passed down from generations, were deliberately brought out.

The bowstrings were slack, rendering them functionless. Soldiers dressed in shorts and running shirts were gambling everywhere.

The stakes were especially high in the games involving knights; not only was it noisily chaotic, but there was also rampant drinking. It was a behavior deemed permissible under the guise of a complete holiday.

“Is the domain really going to ruin like this?”

Sir Garcia was skeptical when he first received the orders.

[Let them indulge in debauchery as much as possible. Showing the worst of their characters, even better. A weak military image is preferable. Explain to your knights why this ruse is necessary.]

[I…I might be pushing myself too hard these days, but I don’t quite understand. Are we to make our soldiers appear in the worst state possible?]

[Exactly, Sir Garcia. Viscount Revion is currently inspecting the domain. That greedy pig will eventually wage a domain war against us, so consider this a precautionary measure.]

This was explained by Sir Jenald. The command had already been issued by the lord, and the current commander of the knights, Sir James, was also orchestrating gambling games for this purpose.

The knights and soldiers understood the grand strategy. It was to appear as an incompetent military force in anticipation of Viscount Revion’s invasion of Farrow Domain.

The very act of drinking and gambling within the barracks implied that the military was in degenerate condition. For what it was worth, they refrained from bringing women into the barracks. Sir Garcia released his suppressed frustration.

“Ah-ha! Bet more, bet more!”

“Wait, Sir Garcia! Did you just hide a card up your sleeve, or did I see it wrong?”

“What the heck? Daring to doubt a knight?”

“It’s inappropriate to cheat at gambling, isn’t it? You were taught the code of knighthood, right?”

“You damn fool!”

Crash!

Garcia flipped the gambling table over. Then, he immediately started brawling with the soldiers. Since they were specifically chosen senior soldiers for this strategy, the blows they received from Sir Garcia were not severe.

Sir Garcia also held back. While tumbling around with the soldiers, Sir Garcia whispered, lamenting.

“Really, is this actually a strategy?”

“He-he, Sir Garcia fits in quite well here. When else will we get to play around in the barracks like this? Just enjoy it. It is a vacation, after all.”

Even Sir James was encouraging fraud gambling(?), and chaos ensued as if there wasn’t already enough. Bottles shattered, and gambling tables broke into pieces.

Coins scattered in every direction. As soldiers scrambled to collect them, they perfectly embodied a degenerate military.

All this was observed by Viscount Revion himself, who was watching from afar, disguised as a commoner. Soldiers from Revion’s side, also in disguise, were spotted observing from various locations.

Our soldiers, conscious of their gaze, stirred even more chaos. Initially, there was concern among the knights when devising this strategy. What if the soldiers truly became debauched?

However, Jeron dismissed it in a single sentence.

“Such weak individuals do not deserve to be our soldiers. And our soldiers are guaranteed the option to commute. I see a low chance of that happening.”

Discipline could be reinstated with enough effort. After finishing a skirmish, Knight Garcia laughed heartily and set up the gambling table once again.

“Come at me, you rogues!”

On a hill overlooking the barracks, Viscount Revion could hardly believe his eyes at the scene below.

“Is that really a military barracks?”

“It seems so, milord.”

“I can turn a blind eye to gambling in secret, but openly drinking like this? Is this a barracks or a den of gangsters.”

“Could it possibly be staged acts?”

“Staged? Does that look staged to you?”

It was a complete mess. The state of the barracks was at its worst. He had heard the land was poor, but the soldiers’ quarters were no better than a slum. The military equipment was worn-out, and gambling seemed a familiar pastime.

It would be the absolute debacle if they also started bringing in women. This mess couldn’t have happened overnight. It must have been the norm here for a while, and the lord must not have been paying attention to the barracks.

There were, of course, suspicions. If, as Knight Asti suggested, Jeron Farrow had intentionally slackened the discipline in view of the upcoming regional conflicts?

But that seemed like an overinterpretation. Considering their mutual promise, thinking about the conflicts didn’t make sense. Seeing this, Viscount Revion’s ambition grew even stronger.

It seemed the estate was developing, but the lord focused only on internal affairs and neglected the barracks. Perhaps he was too focused on internal matters to spare any attention here.

‘If this is how things are, there’s no reason not to take over.’

His ambition blew away any doubts.

“We should make a deal.”

“Excuse me!? You mean to hand over the territory and slaves?”

“What’s wrong with that? Eventually, it will all be mine. Even if not, it won’t be a loss. If I receive the legendary wine, it would be politically beneficial.”

“Is that wine so valuable?”

“Do you not trust me?”

“No, milord, I spoke out of turn.”

Viscount Revion chuckled at his aide’s mistake and looked away from the barracks. It had been hard to decide until now, but this made things clear.

***

In the office terrace of the lord’s castle, Jeron. As the saying goes, there’s always someone higher up, and Jeron was watching Viscount Revion secretly observing the barracks through a telescope.

Even without hearing them up close, he could guess what Revion and his aide were discussing. It would be odd not to catch on to Revion’s true intentions given his enthusiasm.

Jeron’s telescope was aimed at the barracks. The sight was appalling with everyone drunk, shouting, and deeply engrossed in gambling, fully displaying the disgraceful state of the barracks.

Especially Knight Garcia, “That man is a natural. If he weren’t a knight, he’d be a good-for-nothing.”

“I agree. Knight Garcia’s debauched nature is known throughout the estate.”

Knight Leila clenched her fists as she looked at Garcia. They were not on good terms. Leila had once chased after Garcia, who had been upsetting the ladies of the estate, and given him a thorough beating.

“But he is a genius with the sword, isn’t he?”

“If you can’t even do that, you should renounce your knighthood.”

Sir Garcia, though prone to causing much trouble, was still a knight. His unparalleled skill in close combat often granted him leniency for his mishaps.

Knock, knock.

Perhaps 30 minutes had passed. While the soldiers in the barracks were enjoying their “holiday,” Viscount Revion arrived.

“Oh my, Count! What brings you here?”

“Brother! I’ve been thinking, and nothing seems more important than the bond between us. Let this elder brother show some generosity! Let’s draw up the contract right away.”

“Really?”

“Just as you said, clearing up the past is important. Besides, what’s a thousand slaves compared to strengthening our fellowship?”

“You are absolutely right, brother!”

“Haha! Where’s the contract?”

Jeron felt a chill run down his spine. Was this not a perfect change of stance? This greedy Viscount Revion, too, had the makings of a nobleman. To the uninitiated, he would seem like a genuinely good elder brother.

Before the contract, Jeron and Viscount Revion both became solemn for a moment. Any noble living in this era would understand the importance of a contract.

A contract was to be kept without fail. Once notarized, it held absolute effect; breaching it would lead to sanctions at a national level. Therefore, the contract needed meticulous examination.

The Farrow and Revion families hereby pledge the following in good faith:

1. The Farrow household will present three fine silks to enhance friendship.

2. The Revion household will clear past misunderstandings and return the Ravilla Plains to the Farrow household.

3. As a symbol of friendship, the Revion household will provide a thousand healthy slaves to the Farrow household for a period of one month.

Jeron had drafted the content himself. Even here, the drafting of the contract shone, utilizing the adverb ‘healthy’ before slaves and adding a specific time frame. Unhealthy slaves could be returned and exchanged.

‘The system where contracts are absolute is quite nice.’

Breaching a contract could even threaten political careers. Thus, even if the Revion household had some trick up their sleeve, they would have to resort to a territorial war, not breaching this contract.

Both parties concluded and sealed the contract with their family’s seal. Viscount Revion burst into laughter upon seeing the completed contract.

“Haha! What a joyful day! How can we not have wine on such a day? I’ve prepared some fine wine; let’s have a glass.”

“Excellent! I’m not usually one to drink to excess, but I’ll make an exception today.”

***

It was the next morning when Viscount Revion returned to his domain. He created quite a scene while showing off his friendship to Jeron, who humored him appropriately.

Viscount Revion boarded his carriage and vanished into the distance. Congratulations poured in from all sides.

“Congratulations, milord! You’ve reclaimed the Ravilla Plains!”

“What a joy to restore the territory.”

The typically stoic Knight General Jenald’s eyes were on the verge of tears. The Ravilla Plains had returned to the Farrow household after 150 years. However, Jeron had no intention of stopping here.

“In the next three months. I guarantee there will be a territorial war. After it ends, our population and land will expand significantly. Knights, you will not only have manors but also feuds.”

The knights’ eyes sparkled, and the soldiers were no different. If Jeron won the territorial war, achieving a knighthood through Duke Langton would be possible, as well as replenishing the knight order.

Even lifelong soldiers could have a chance at knighthood. Of course, the variable of a kingdom-level war made guarantees difficult, but given the indecisive nature of this era, the likelihood of a territorial war was very high.

“Now, it’s time to cast the bait and wait.”