Chapter 114

Chapter 114. How to Fight (1)

Construction began on the canal connecting the Rhône River to Perrier's lord's castle.

Naturally, mages from the Roches Mage Tower were dispatched.

For the next eight to ten months, they would use magic to excavate the channel.

I also planned to send golems regularly to level the surrounding ground.

Once the canal was completed, many things would change.

First, the Camargue Marsh would begin drying and filling with sediment.

Once the ground hardened, the lizardmen would be forced to relocate.

They needed abundant fresh water and muddy terrain for their habitat.

After the lizardmen left, Camargue could be developed into farmland and pasture.

Baron Raul Camargue would finally receive tax income from his fief.

It would happen much earlier than the five years I'd originally promised him.

But around that point, I'd have to remove Raul's slave brand.

A tax-collecting slave noble was simply too absurd.

The tidal flats off Perrier would also change.

According to the mages, the fresh water and nutrients flowing through the new canal would greatly increase productivity there.

Fishing.

Shellfish.

Salt-marsh agriculture.

New settlements.

The economic effects would be enormous.

Perrier would become tied to us whether it liked it or not.

* * *

Count Toulouse, meanwhile, was dealing with a very different economic situation.

The territory's finances were worsening.

Even the Count's personal treasury was being drained.

He couldn't find a proper solution.

In the end, he decided to prevent overproduction.

"This year, reduce the amount of farmland planted with wheat by thirty percent."

The administrators froze.

"Notify every family in the territory in advance."

Count Toulouse continued.

"Beginning this year, we will not purchase wheat beyond the amount required for taxes."

The administrators weren't the only ones surprised.

The knights were too.

This policy would directly affect vassals and knights who owned manors.

"We all have to tighten our belts."

Count Toulouse looked around.

"If we share the pain together, better days will eventually come."

One old knight's face turned red.

He looked furious.

"My lord."

"What?"

"Since ancient times, territorial wars have often been used to solve internal problems."

The knight forced down his anger.

"Is this not precisely such a time?"

Count Toulouse almost snapped at him.

Then he stopped himself.

The old knight was nearly retired, but he was still a Sword Master.

His influence over the entire Knight Order was enormous.

Count Toulouse sighed.

"Attacking Perrier would be difficult."

He rubbed his forehead.

"If Count Marcel gathers all the knights connected to him, they number well over a hundred."

The spies' reports were even worse.

"Apparently, there are Mid-rank Sword Experts everywhere."

"I wasn't speaking about Perrier."

Count Toulouse looked up.

There was another territory bordering Toulouse.

Aquitaine.

Orian, the knight with the mana-dispersing technique, had originally served Aquitaine before being laid off.

Aquitaine had steadily reduced its Knight Order.

Now it had only around forty knights.

It was among the weakest counties in Franche.

"Attack Aquitaine..."

Count Toulouse stared at the map.

That idea was much more attractive.

* * *

"My lord."

Chloe entered my office.

"Toulouse has declared territorial war on Aquitaine."

"So they chose Aquitaine."

I wasn't particularly surprised.

Toulouse needed land.

Food.

Tax revenue.

And political momentum.

Aquitaine looked weak.

"Send Orian home."

"Orian?"

"We don't have any spies planted in Aquitaine."

I tapped the map.

"I'd at least like Sir Orian there. He knows the territory, and I have work for him."

"Do you intend to intervene in the territorial war?"

"Yes."

I smiled.

"We need to teach Toulouse a lesson."

For Perrier's future safety, Toulouse had to be weakened.

I wasn't planning to openly send an army.

There were other ways to damage an enemy.

"Send Martin, Raul, and the two ghouls too."

"Immediately?"

"Immediately."

Chloe nodded.

Then she hesitated.

"My lord, I have another report."

"What?"

"The Delhi Sultanate has collapsed."

"...Why are we hearing about this again?"

"The economic consequences are spreading."

Coffee had reduced tea consumption.

The collapse of tea prices had destroyed the royal and merchant finances that had held the Sultanate together.

Local lords rebelled.

Then each founded his own state.

The world economy was becoming increasingly tangled with mine.

I should probably stop casually inventing beverages.

No.

Coffee was too useful.

* * *

Orian returned to Aquitaine.

As he approached his hometown, he found the atmosphere tense.

War was imminent.

And yet security was sloppy.

They can't even properly block one neighboring territory.

Did they reduce the Knight Order for this? Pathetic.

He cursed the lord of Aquitaine in his head and continued walking.

Then an armored knight approached him.

"Sir Orian?"

Orian stopped.

"What brings you here?"

"It's been a while."

Orian shrugged.

"What do you mean, what brings me here? Can't I visit my own homeland?"

"Well, that's not what I meant."

The knight smiled.

"Let's have a drink."

The man was clearly supposed to be on duty.

Yet he brought Orian straight into a tavern.

Several knights were already sitting inside and drinking.

With war approaching, discipline had somehow become even worse.

Some recognized Orian and nodded.

Others glared.

"Why are those guys staring at me?"

"You're a knight of Marcel, aren't you? Of course a knight from another territory attracts attention when things are this unstable."

"I'm not a knight anymore."

The tavern went quiet.

Orian tapped his chest.

"My aura organ was closed."

"What?"

"How did that happen?"

Even the knights who had been pretending not to listen turned toward him.

"I was injured during an operation."

Orian smiled.

"Fortunately, Count Marcel appointed me an Honorary Knight and even granted me a manor."

The other knights stared.

"That's incredible!"

"Count Marcel really is as merciful as the rumors say!"

These days, few lords granted manors to knights.

The age of frontier expansion had ended.

There was little agricultural land left to divide.

Yet Eric had granted a manor even to a knight who could no longer use aura.

Orian smiled.

"I'll pay for the drinks."

"What?"

"Actually, I'll pay for everyone in this tavern."

The knights laughed.

"You've gotten rich!"

"Your salaries are delayed all the time, aren't they?"

"Ha ha! Thank you, Sir Orian!"

Of course, the money Orian used came from the operational funds Eric had provided.

More knights joined them.

The drinking party began with six men.

By the time there were fourteen, the number of empty barrels rolling across the floor exceeded the number of people.

The next morning, while Orian was sleeping at the inn, several knights came to wake him.

"Ugh. What is it this early?"

"Our lord wants to see you."

"Me?"

"We told him we'd met Sir Orian."

The knights looked apologetic.

"Sorry, but please come with us."

Orian sighed.

He wasn't particularly surprised.

Eric had predicted something like this might happen.

Is my lord a prophet?

How did he know this would happen?

Orian followed them.

His loyalty toward Eric strengthened once again.

He had long since concluded that getting on Eric's bad side would be completely fucked.

* * *

Before Orian left, Martin had told him part of the plan.

Even without aura, Orian remained an honorable knight.

Martin trusted him enough to reveal a limited amount of information.

"Our lord intends to interfere with Toulouse's advance into Aquitaine."

Orian stared.

Eric did not plan to openly deploy his Knight Order.

Instead, he intended to damage Toulouse through several noncombat measures and attacks against the rear.

"Sir Martin."

Orian looked serious.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"This is my homeland. My brothers and relatives all live here."

Martin smiled.

"Of course."

Then he added,

"Actually, this works out well. We needed someone."

When Martin explained exactly what he wanted, Orian was horrified.

He immediately regretted asking.

* * *

Meanwhile, I was lecturing the manager of Rosso Bank's Marcel branch.

"Back in my day, when someone told us to do something, we just did it."

"My lord, that's not the issue..."

"Stop telling me what can and can't be done."

"But..."

"Just send the order."

"Yes, sir."

My instruction was simple.

Give bonds issued by Toulouse the lowest defensible rating.

And do not purchase them.

Rosso Bank's Lisboa branch and several other branches followed my instructions faithfully.

The Le Capital branch was different.

At first, they obediently agreed.

Then someone apparently pressured them.

They began sending excuse after excuse.

Eventually, a carrier pigeon arrived asking permission to purchase Toulouse bonds.

That was why I was squeezing the Marcel branch manager.

"Send them the answer."

"What should I write?"

"Absolutely not."

"...Understood."

Financial pressure was one weapon.

Public opinion was another.

Toulouse had poor groundwater because of its soil.

Diarrhea was common.

My antidiarrheal medicine was extremely popular there.

So I would stop supplying it temporarily.

Once public dissatisfaction increased, I could restore supplies.

My reputation would rise.

The resentment directed at Count Toulouse would rise with it.

"Now Toulouse is almost completely isolated."

Diego looked at the map.

"They should have launched a lightning attack the moment they declared war on Aquitaine."

I nodded.

"Instead, they dragged things out until spring planting."

Toulouse shared land borders with only Perrier and Aquitaine.

Relations with both were now terrible.

Trade with Le Capital still continued, so the territory wasn't completely cut off.

But movement had become difficult.

"Once the attacks against their rear begin, Count Toulouse is going to have a miserable time."

I smiled.

"I want him waking up in the middle of the night and kicking his blanket in regret."

Martin, Raul, and the two ghouls were already in Aquitaine and Toulouse.

Economic sanctions.

Public opinion warfare.

Rear-area sabotage.

These were methods I'd learned in my previous life.

The muscle-brained idiots of this world believed war meant lining up on a field and charging at each other.

I intended to thoroughly confuse them.

* * *

BOOOOM!

A massive explosion struck the wheat seed storage outside Toulouse's lord's castle.

The storage complex consisted of six buildings.

They exploded one after another.

BOOM!

BOOM!

Flames rose into the sky.

The warehouses had been filled with wheat seed for the spring planting.

If the seed burned, the fields around the lord's castle could not even be planted.

A hooded figure watched from a distance.

Then disappeared into the darkness.

The warehouses continued burning.