The Rise Of The Clydon Family-Chapter 21: A One-Week Oath

"My lord, this goes against ancestral tradition!"

Old Gordon—who was normally obedient to Rus—finally lost his temper. "You're handing shiny silver coins to those lowborn peasants. It's outrageous!"

Rus chuckled, soothing him with a wave of his hand.

"Relax, Mr. Gordon. It's not that much silver. And without those men, we wouldn't be sitting here in Eagle Fortress having this conversation."

Gordon tried to argue.

"But, my lord, this has never been done. If you go through with this, every noble will—"

"My decision is final," Rus cut him off firmly.

"For those who died in battle, fifty silver coins each. Those permanently disabled, twenty. Survivors—five coins apiece."

"...As you command, my lord..." Gordon adjusted his monocle, clearly displeased but unable to refute the order.

Not just in the Cairns Empire, but across all human nations of the Midrils continent, serf soldiers were not seen as people.

If they died, they died. Compensation? Don't be ridiculous—serfs didn't get such things.

But Rus had his own reasoning.

His fiefdom was small. His population, even smaller. If he wanted to survive, he had to take the elite path—train a small, fiercely loyal, highly disciplined private army that could outperform any average noble's troops.

And besides, fifty silver coins wasn't much to him.

A bargain, really, for the loyalty it could buy.

Money isn't for the dead—it's for the living to see.

"Next on the agenda—castle repairs." Gordon flipped to a fresh page in his ledger.

"The main hall wasn't too badly damaged. Only the carpet needs replacing, which will cost around seven gold coins. Aside from that, the servant quarters on the first floor..."

There were only three people present—Rus, Gordon, and Erik.

Erik was currently seated at the table, absentmindedly rubbing his waist with a goofy grin.

He no longer used his hand-and-a-half sword. Now he had two enchanted weapons on his belt—Anderson's warhammer and Bailey's longsword.

And he wore Anderson's enchanted plate armor to boot.

All together, his gear was worth nearly 800 gold coins.

Sticking with Lord Rus really pays off, Erik thought. Just two months in, and I've gone from peasant to powerhouse.

"Erik."

Gordon's slightly irritated tone snapped him out of his daze.

"Huh? What is it?"

"The lord asked—how much would it cost to fully equip the remaining troops?"

Erik scratched his nose in embarrassment.

"We took heavy losses in this battle. Eleven dead, three seriously wounded. That leaves us with twenty-two active soldiers."

"We recovered sixteen standard chainmail sets from the bandits, plus one enchanted chainmail, and one enchanted plate—currently on me. The chainmail can be kept in reserve for Lord Rus. I'll pass my old set on to Simon. That still leaves a five-set gap."

"But we also killed three Blood-Eyed Warhorses. Their armor can be reforged at the smithy into human chainmail sets—five at least—with some material to spare. It'll only cost a few silver coins in labor."

Rus nodded slowly.

Erik, simple as he might be, had a sharp eye for all things military. He was reliable.

"We also seized twelve ordinary warhorses," Rus said. "Think we could start training a cavalry unit?"

Erik frowned.

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"Unlikely, my lord. Cavalry require a much higher skill level than infantry—both in riding and mounted combat. That kind of training takes serious time."

"Truthfully, while I can ride, I've never been trained for horseback combat. Even with a mount, I'd still be just an infantryman on a horse."

Rus rubbed his nose awkwardly—he didn't even know how to ride.

Not that it was unusual. In the Midrils continent, horseback riding was a noble's privilege.

At minimum, one needed the wealth of a knight's household to afford it.

Horses didn't just eat grass—they needed beans and grain, costly feed.

Daily upkeep cost at least twenty copper coins. A year's feed alone cost over sixty silver coins. Ordinary families simply couldn't afford it.

"Skilled people are hard to find..." Rus muttered, making a mental note to learn riding soon.

If not for combat, at least for escaping danger. Four legs run faster than two.

"Erik, take the horse armor to Shining Gold Town and have it refitted into chainmail. Dismissed!"

"Not so fast."

The doors burst open.

Elaina stepped inside, her figure striking in a simple sapphire-blue gown.

The off-shoulder neckline showed off her flawless collarbones—a picture of strength and elegance.

"Rus, when are you going to hire some damn maids?!"

Though they had technically won the battle against the bandits, Eagle Fortress had suffered significant losses.

The original staff—the three maids Rus had hired, along with the grooms and servants Elaina had brought—were all dead.

The captured bandit who revealed Weston's betrayal had also died.

Neither Rus nor Elaina publicly acknowledged the claim—perhaps unwilling to face the truth.

Elaina had since been in a strange, manic state.

She'd developed an aversion to all men. Even the carpet in her room had been burned—because Simon had stepped on it while carrying bodies.

"Now, now, Aunt Elaina," Rus said calmly.

"The townsfolk of Eagle Town aren't exactly refined. Finding suitable maids will take time."

Elaina scoffed.

"Not refined? What, are you expecting me to go hire people from Moonen City myself?"

Rus smiled. "No need. There are plenty of suitable candidates in Shining Gold Town."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Baron Rus, have you forgotten what just happened? You lost over a dozen servants. How much gold will it take to convince anyone to work here again?"

"Why would I pay?" Rus replied. "They're my vassals."

Elaina's expression darkened.

"Shining Gold Town is still under Viscount John's control."

"You plan to take it back?"

"Of course," Rus said with quiet confidence.

Elaina burst out laughing.

"Oh, that's rich. The funniest thing I've heard all month. And how do you plan to do that? With your twenty-something 'elites'?"

"Think twice, my lord," Erik added seriously.

"Viscount John commands three hundred elite troops—the Snow Maple Legion. And he has fourteen knighted vassals—every one of them at least Tier-1 transcendents. We can't beat that."

Even Gordon chimed in.

"Lord Rus, under imperial law, attacking another noble's territory is a serious offense. You risk losing your title."

Rus looked around at them all.

"So none of you believe I can take back Shining Gold Town?"

Gordon and Erik both looked down, unwilling to speak. Their silence spoke volumes.

Elaina didn't hold back.

"Remember how Joudra made that big promise to hand over Hawkbeak Mountain and the Thousand-Needle Thicket?"

"Well? Where are they?"

"The Wotton family is only baronial. And now you want to pry Shining Gold Town from a viscount?"

"A small victory over some bandits has clearly gone to your head."

Rus smiled.

"No need to worry about that, Aunt Elaina."

He raised one finger.

"In one week, Viscount John will beg me to take Shining Gold Town off his hands."