The most important thing for people is, after all, securing food, clothing, and shelter. Especially food, which was one of the chronic problems plaguing the Schneider Fief. The fief itself bordered a great forest, a haven for monsters, so there was extremely little farmland.
It was a place where feeding all the fief's residents with the food produced within the fief was impossible. So, the residents would brave the dangers, entering the forest to hunt small animals or gather fruits from the trees. They also foraged for whatever medicinal herbs and mushrooms they could find and stockpiled them.
But even with all that, the food situation did not improve. Every year when winter began, people in the Schneider Fief would either freeze or starve to death. This was something that happened unavoidably, despite Baron Schneider collecting drastically lower taxes compared to other fiefs.
However, this winter seemed like it would be different. The food that Patrick had bought with the money he earned in Parmas was being distributed evenly. The Schneider Fief was a small fief with a total population not exceeding five thousand, but even so, there was no lord anywhere who distributed food to all of their residents.
“Truly. This is all thanks to the lord and the young master.”
“We all knew the lord was a good and benevolent person. But the young master is not only that but also exceptionally capable.”
“That’s right. Didn’t he wipe out all the monsters around the fief? Didn’t he go to Parmas and earn a ton of money? He’s an amazing person.”
“Who would look at him and say he’s only ten years old?”
"My son is twenty now, and I'd be happy if he could be even a quarter as good as the young master."
"Hey, that's being greedy. Is our young master any ordinary person?"
"Hahaha. You're right, aren't you?"
Thus, Patrick's popularity among the residents soared, seeming to pierce the heavens. He had already gained great popularity when he stabilized the fief by wiping out the monsters in the surrounding area, but by solving the food situation this time, he was elevated to an object of complete worship.
It seemed that if Patrick were to declare to the residents of the Schneider Fief, 'Starting today, we declare ourselves an independent nation,' they would willingly follow. That's how much everyone respected and followed Patrick. Well, of course, there were some exceptions.
“Wellllllllllllllllllllllll done. Just great.”
Patrick's sarcasm was unusually long. And in front of the long-winded, sarcastic Patrick, 200 of the fief's soldiers were all planted head-first into the ground.
“How dare you slack off on your training? How dare you? Your training? Slacking off?”
With every single word Patrick spoke, the soldiers' bodies trembled.
And then…
“I'm sure I told you to practice your footwork while I was gone, didn't I? Are you ignoring my orders? Do I look like a pushover? Huh? Do I?”
This was the reason for Patrick's fury. He had gathered the soldiers at the training grounds to check their progress with the Five Elements Steps, and the results were far below his expectations.
Patrick, who had seen Sanson use it against a Troll and had been thinking, 'So they did train to some extent,' and was contemplating whether or not to praise them, even if just a little, couldn't help but explode in anger.
“You've all gone mad! If you're going to train half-heartedly, then just quit, you bastards! No, just die! Die! If you don't die, I'll beat you to death right now!”
Watching the rampaging Patrick, the soldiers momentarily thought, 'That devil might actually do it.' Just then, one soldier bravely resolved to handle the situation. He stood up, raised his hand high, and spoke to Patrick.
“Young master.”
“What is it? Soldier A.” "It's Oliver."
“So what? What about it?”
Oliver spoke cautiously to the irritable Patrick.
“Young master, you are misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding?”
“Yes. It's not that we didn't practice the steps. We trained the set amount at the set time every single day.”
"Oh? Is that so?” “Yes. It's just that the results didn't come out well enough to satisfy you, young master.” “Ah? Really? So you're saying you all worked hard, but the results of your training just didn't show?” “That is correct.” “So you're saying that although the results may be meager, I should acknowledge the value of your effort. Is that it?” “That's exactly right. Young mas... Gack!"
Oliver's desperate attempt to clear up Patrick's misunderstanding was nullified by a single kick from Patrick that exploded on his face. No, it actually had the opposite effect. A murderous glint flashed in Patrick's eyes as he looked at the other soldiers.
“Look at all of you, fooling around as a group. You call that an excuse? You rotten bastards!"
Seeing Patrick, who looked like he'd had oil poured on his flames, the other soldiers all thought in unison. 'That bastard Oliver, making excuses for no reason.' 'If I die today, it's because of that bastard.'
'If I don't die, I'm going to sew that bastard Oliver's mouth shut.' And Patrick, literally flying into a rage, said.
“You bastards. Is training that doesn't produce results really training? It's just killing time, isn't it?”
The soldiers flinched.
“I bet while I was gone, you lot just half-assed your footwork training and swung your swords around, didn't you?”
More soldiers flinched.
“And after that, you say you trained hard? That I'm misunderstanding? The value of efforrrrrrt!?”
The soldiers began to almost shrink in on themselves. Every single word Patrick spoke was a whip of guilt lashing their consciences.
“Kekeke…, kekekekeke…… Right. I was foolish. I was foolish to think you would follow my orders if I just told you with words.”
Before anyone knew it, there were two wooden swords in Patrick's hands.
And then…
"Everyone, on your feet!"
The soldiers scrambled to their feet. And Patrick said………
“From now on, it's time for the practical training you all love so much.”
'Since when did we?’ 'Since when did we?' The soldiers' excuses did not leave their mouths.
Instead, a terrifying sentence began to flow from Patrick's lips.
“From now on, I'm going to beat you. If you use the footwork properly, you can avoid it. But if you can't, you get hit. Simple, right?”
“Huh? What?”
“We'll do it until you get it right. Now then....”
"Wait a moment, young master.”
“It's our patrol time…… patrol time.”
"It's happy getting-beaten-up time! You bastards!"
All day long, the training grounds of the House of Schneider echoed with the sorrowful screams of the soldiers and their curses toward Patrick. This was the only place in Baron Schneider's fief where Patrick was resented.
Patrick's daily life passed by busily. Having been granted several official rights by Baron Schneider, Patrick moved energetically on various fronts. First, he dealt with commerce.
“From now on, purchase all goods for the fief through the Red Merchant Group.”
The Red Merchant Group is one of the legitimate businesses run by the thieves' guild. They promised to supply goods from the outside at a low price and to sell the materials produced in the fief. And because they would periodically visit the Schneider Fief, Patrick was able to obtain information from the outside.
“I understand, young master. But are they trustworthy?”
“Trustworthy, you ask?”
Patrick let out a smirk. How could one trust a bunch of thieves?
However...
“It'll be fine. They won't pull any scummy tricks if they don't want to die.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Though he didn't quite understand, Lawrence decided to unconditionally trust and follow Patrick's words. Then Patrick said.
“Lawrence, don't try to do everything by yourself. Delegate the work. It would be good to entrust it to Chandler.”
“That fellow is still young and inexperienced. Will that be alright?”
“It's fine. He's bright, so he'll do well.”
“Hahaha, it seems he has found favor with you.”
“Well, a little....”
Patrick cleared his throat and said.
“Anyway, don't overwork yourself. Eat well, sleep well, and take good care of your health. Don't work more than six hours a day, understand.”
“Hahaha. I understand. With the young master looking after me like this, I will surely live a very long life.”
“Please do. The thought of running this fief without you makes my world go dark.”
At Patrick's words, Lawrence simply smiled a warm smile and laughed. He wore a smile that seemed to say, 'This old butler, who has dedicated his entire life to the fief, knows everything,' so an unnecessarily embarrassed Patrick changed the subject.
“How are the children we're protecting?”
“We have hired a few of the fief's ladies to look after them. The children in good health are adapting quickly.”
“That's a relief. When the doctors arrive, have them examine the children and the other residents as well.”
Calling doctors cost more money than he had thought. In that case, Patrick's calculation was to get his money's worth when they came. To this, Lawrence chuckled and said.
“Yes, I understand. Ah! Also, there are some residents who wish to adopt some of the children. Shall we proceed immediately?”
“No. We cannot handle something as important as becoming a family so carelessly.”
Patrick flatly refused. Even if an adult finds children cute, taking responsibility and becoming a parent is another matter entirely. If things go wrong, they could take them home, have a change of heart, and it could lead to abuse or labor exploitation.
Since the Schneider Fief is a kind-hearted country fief, the chances are low, but one never knows.
“Take it slow and let the child and the parents get to know each other. Have them repeat the experience of staying for a few days and then returning to the shelter several times.”
“A kind of trial period, I see.”
“Right. If, after that, both the child and the parents' feelings remain unchanged and things seem fine, then proceed. Take at least a month and go slowly.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Hearing Patrick's instructions, Lawrence smiled proudly and thought. 'No matter what you say or do, in the end, the young master is still the baron's son.’ There's no way that looking after children, which doesn't bring in a single coin, would be inexpensive.
But seeing him handle the matter with such care, even at a loss, one couldn't deny the fact that Patrick also had the blood of a good person, just like Baron Schneider... "Well then, it's my patrol time, so I'm off. Hehehe, you monster bastards are all dead!”
No. Perhaps there was also a chance he was a mutation.
After his meeting with Lawrence, Patrick proceeded with his patrol around the fief. When he left for the merchant trip this time, it was quiet for a while, but it wasn't long before a Troll eventually caused a ruckus. That meant unless the area around the fief was cleared out periodically, the safety of the residents could not be guaranteed.
Therefore, patrols had to be done periodically. However, if there was something different from before…
“Let's go, boys.”
“Yes, young master.”
It was that a few soldiers, including Sanson, were following behind Patrick. Before, Patrick used to roam the area around the fief with just Brian, but now, about ten soldiers were following him. ‘Starting tomorrow, you will patrol the outskirts of the fief with me.'
Those Patrick had selected were soldiers whose progress with the Five Elements Steps was at least decent. He had decided to take them along under the judgment that they could at least take care of themselves.
Of course...
‘That youngest bastard was slow as hell, skinning hides and carrying luggage all by himself. This is much better.’
For now, their role was more that of a porter than a combatant. But someday, they too must become proper fighting forces and knights who protect the fief. To do that, they needed to gain a certain degree of practical experience starting now.
However...
“You…. young master. It's a Werewolf.”
"Yeah. I know. Fighting!"
“Uwaaah! Young master.”
“You have to look ahead. Ahead. It hurts if you get bitten.”
"You son of a biiiiitch!"
It's just that the standard for that 'certain degree' of practical experience was thoroughly centered on Patrick.