Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude

“Haha! The old steward really understands the situation,” Paul thought to himself with a nod of approval.

Indeed, being a seasoned veteran of the world, he probably saw through the charade that Paul and Bryce were putting on. By naming Bryce first in the allocation of fiefs, Paul was gambling to see if others would follow suit and relinquish their administrative powers over their territories.

Being the first to be allocated by the lord signified Bryce’s top rank in terms of overall merit in the lord’s eyes. With such a person willingly surrendering power, others would surely weigh their options.

However, if the second person didn’t grasp this implication, the ‘demonstration effect’ of Bryce’s action would be significantly diminished, complicating the process thereafter.

If that happened, what could Paul do? He would reluctantly accept the situation and then spend years, perhaps even longer, slowly reclaiming power.

It truly was a gamble! Before Steward Ford’s declaration, the count’s heart was pounding with anticipation.

Now, with the old steward’s stance amplifying Bryce’s example, and given his status and popularity, the effect was magnified manifold.

“Excellent!” Paul exclaimed loudly, then realized he had shown too much excitement. It wouldn’t do to let others see that he was reluctant to distribute power.

He tried to suppress his inner excitement and spoke in a more measured tone, “In that case, like Bryce, I will award the Grayman family’s properties in the Red Rock Town region to you.”

Red Rock Town was in Alda, which lacked properties belonging to the Administration Council’s public treasury. Other than some private lands, most of the properties were under the lord’s control.

“Thank you for your generosity, my lord,” Old Ford expressed his gratitude and then calmly stood aside.

“Owen Schroeder!” Paul called out the third name with a smile. The chief of staff approached the steps and knelt on one knee.

“Schroeder, you were originally a knight in the Northeastern Army and have earned many merits since returning to Alda. Now, I formally ask you: henceforth, are you willing to swear allegiance to the Grayman family?”

Schroeder raised his right hand, “I swear to the Lord of Light, from this day forward, I shall be loyal to you and your lawful heirs.”

Paul was very pleased, “Well then, I hereby confer upon you the title of Baron of River Valley Town!”

Schroeder placed his hand on his chest, “Thank you, Count. I also request to hand over my lands for the Administration Council to govern, just like Bryce and Lord Ford.”

What? Again?

Everyone inwardly exclaimed in dismay and frustration!

Even Paul inwardly shouted, “It’s settled!”

If not for the presence of so many people, he might have leapt up from his seat.

“Then I shall award you the properties of River Valley Town as well!”

Now, he didn’t even bother to ask for reasons.

With the top three on the merit list having surrendered their powers, it remained to be seen if the lesser individuals would be insightful enough to do the same. 𝐫

As the allocation continued, it went as Paul expected, with the smaller figures obediently handing over their administrative powers.

However, there were exceptions. When it came to Quik’s turn, the situation nearly capsized.

Quik was conferred the status of “Hereditary Knight,” which, while not true nobility, was close to it. From then on, he could be rightfully addressed as ‘lord’ by commoners. This title was different from the informal ‘lord’ used among rural landlords. He was a legitimate lord in his domain – technically a fief, though Quik’s was only a relatively large village.

It’s important to note that in Alda, landlords and gentry without noble or knightly status nominally lacked administrative and judicial powers. But, due to historically weak administrative forces, they effectively held these powers, especially the larger landlords with ‘tax-farmer’ status, who wielded significant influence in their villages.

Hereditary Knight – a title beyond Quik’s wildest dreams. Just two years ago, he was a pirate, surviving on wages from the navy. Now, he found himself suddenly bestowed with extensive properties and various powers, his joy making him momentarily forgetful.

“Thank you, Lord Grayman, for this gracious gift!”

After accepting the honor, Quik joyfully returned to his ranks, oblivious to his superior, Austin’s, meaningful glances.

The atmosphere in the hall chilled instantly, as everyone fell silent.

“Why has it stopped?” Quik wondered, puzzled.

The lord on his seat then spoke, “Quik, in that case, resign from your military duties and take charge of your fief.”

What? What does the Count mean by this?

Quik was shocked, fearing Lord Grayman intended to kick him out of the navy.

He hurriedly knelt down, pleading, “My lord, I wish to continue serving you. Please allow me to remain in the navy.”

Paul shook his head, “Bryce’s earlier words reminded me, how can one person manage two responsibilities well? I can’t bear to see your fief neglected. Go, manage it well, let it prosper. Your descendants will thank you.”

“No, no, no! I can’t leave the navy. I can’t breathe without the sea.”

Quik was nearly in tears.

“Hmm!” Austin, almost wanting to kick him, cleared his throat loudly. What a lack of foresight from a navy man.

He suggested, “Quik, why don’t you hand over the governance of your lands to the Administration Council? That way, you can manage both.”

Quik struggled internally.

Being a real lord – a goal unattainable for many commoners.

But he knew, the former ‘knights’ of the Grayman family, after subduing pirates and struggling to adapt to the new military’s regulations, had left Lakeheart Town. Though still loyal to the Graymans, swearing to return when called, the Count never summoned them back for subsequent battles.

In other words, not holding a public office equated to being cut off from Alda’s power structure.

Was he to spend his days confined to that small land?

No, he dreamed of commanding larger ships, navigating fiercer seas, achieving greater honors – feats unattainable as a mere village lord.

After much deliberation, Quik resolved to ask Paul, “Please allow the Administration Council to manage my fief.”

Paul, outwardly composed but inwardly relieved, consented.

“Fine, I accept your request. The properties in the fief will still be under your name.”

“Thank you for your generous gift, my lord!”

Quik relaxed. His economic interests remained intact; the harvests were still his. Taxing the poor villagers wasn’t lucrative, and commanding a village held no appeal compared to leading a grand fleet.

Ah, the new ship! His thoughts drifted to the three-masted warship the Count had promised them.

Through Quik’s ordeal, those present grasped Paul’s intent – to stay within Alda’s military and administrative system, they had to surrender their power, ensuring the lord’s continued favor. Refusing meant exclusion from the system, relegated to ‘outsiders,’ distant from the lord.

And with Alda’s rising fortunes over the past two years, staying within the system obviously offered greater benefits.

Leaving to be a minor lord seemed a dead-end, especially without the stature of a duke, marquess, or count. What use were such meager powers?

Those who had already been ennobled and surrendered their power sighed in relief, glad for their choice. Those yet to be ennobled prepared their responses accordingly.