The Founding Monarch Became the Mastermind

Chapter 24

The day after the negotiations with the nobles from Volphart Estate concluded, Si-on and his group left the village.

“Do you think Volphart Estate will win?”

Piotr, who had been deep in thought since leaving the village, occasionally glancing at Si-on, finally spoke. Si-on gladly answered his curious great-grandson.

“Probably.”

“Could you tell me why? I heard their forces are about the same.”

“It’s because of Erwin, the knight they captured.”

“Is one knight that important? Besides, he…”

Piotr trailed off, recalling the image of Erwin, who had charged recklessly into a trap and fell off his horse in a humiliating manner, finding it hard to believe.

“When Janstrick was contracted, that knight came as Jetman’s representative. This means Erwin has been handling all major and minor affairs of Jetman Estate in this conflict. He’s likely the overall commander on the field.”

“Oh, I see. But I heard there are still other knights…”

“What happens when a wolf disappears from the forest and only the foxes, who had been living under the wolf’s shadow, remain?”

“Ah…!”

“Facing a decisive battle for the fate of the estate? Those foxes will be even more desperate to stand out. If they achieve merit, they might take the wolf’s vacant spot.”

“The command structure will be in chaos.”

“Exactly. In contrast, Volphart has brought in a general of considerable renown from his wife’s family as reinforcements. Although the number of troops is similar, one side lacks a focal point while the other has a trusted leader. The outcome is obvious.”

“I see.”

Nodding in understanding, Piotr spoke with a slightly brighter expression.

“Anyway, it’s a relief that we had no fatalities or severe injuries. Though, I suppose it’s only natural since the enemy was so weak.”

Si-on’s voice suddenly turned stern.

“If you keep thinking like that, you’ll pay for it dearly someday.”

“Oh… I-I’m sorry.”

Caught off guard by the sudden change in atmosphere, Piotr bowed his head.

“We were exceptionally lucky this time. They were exhausted from chasing us, hastily gathered with no cohesion. And you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Si-on admonished Piotr with the heart of a grandfather as the young man straightened his posture instinctively.

“Even though the enemy was few in number and stuck in the mud, making them easy to deal with, you didn’t watch your surroundings at all during the fight. Everyone’s vision narrows when excited in battle, but you must train yourself to glance left and right whenever possible. Experience can help, but most people die before gaining enough of it. Keep that in mind.”

“Yes, sir. I will remember.”

“Good.”

Si-on finally smiled.

Truthfully, if not for Si-on, Piotr would have been severely injured in the last battle.

Although he intended to raise Piotr to be strong, he wasn’t a psychopathic grandfather who would let his great-grandson get hurt right before his eyes.

But Si-on couldn’t always protect him.

He hoped that one day, his great-grandson, who resembled his youngest daughter so much, would grow up to be capable and independent.

Then, as thoughts of his youngest daughter crossed his mind, Si-on let out a bitter smile.

“Si-on, Jang Si-on. Why couldn’t you treat Maria like this…?”

Come to think of it, he had been disappointed in his youngest daughter Maria, who had chosen her own path, yet he held different expectations for her grandson.

“You’ll never grow up, Si-on.”

Remembering Maria made his chest ache with a bittersweet feeling.

Noticing Piotr glancing at him anxiously, Si-on composed himself.

“Bloodlines never disappear, and you can’t ignore them. To think I’d let the children choose their own fates entirely… I was arrogant.”

He had the power to guide the Si-on Duchy and his descendants toward a better path.

At the very least, he could prevent them from heading in a bad direction.

But he had neglected this responsibility.

—Live your life now.

His wife had been truly wise.

Because of his foolishness, he had misinterpreted her last words.

Being ‘Si-on’ and guiding his children and grandchildren properly was also part of living his life.

It was his rightful duty and responsibility, and ignoring it for decades was no different from disregarding his wife’s dying wish.

“It’s late, but…”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Pardon?”

Piotr looked up at Si-on, startled by the quiet yet resolute voice.

“It’s nothing. By the way, we start sparring today. Are you ready?”

“Of course.”

Though Stelman and the seasoned Janstrick mercenary captains would be his opponents for now, Piotr, having seen enough of their skills in the previous battle, was eager and determined.

“Good. You won’t be bored on the road. And I might even spar with you myself.”

Si-on, who was overjoyed with his ambitious great-grandson, spoke with enthusiasm.

“Yes? Oh, yes. Thank you…”

However, Piotr, who had only seen Si-on’s skills when he stomped on the fallen knight Erwin, seemed a little less excited.

“He might be strategic, but I don’t know about his skills as a knight… Well, I’ll just take it easy.”

The old warrior, who had faced countless knights, sword masters, and assassins in various battles over nearly a century, smiled (a smile with many layers of meaning), and his great-grandson returned the smile.

***

Clatter, clatter.

Inside the supply wagon moving at a moderate pace, a man in a hood muttered something under his breath.

“Why am I in this mess…? I was about to become a top administrator, and now this? Working in the field… in some southern backwater…”

The man, mumbling gloomily, looked up at the sky outside the wagon.

“This has to be a demotion, right? No, wait. It’s not a demotion if I’m reporting directly to the one the Scout reports to… But that guy’s hanging around me, so what do I even call this?”

The man, staring blankly at the dark gray sky that mirrored his own mood, was Jens, the information compiler from the Information Guild headquarters.

Due to a single misjudgment, Jens, who had been on the fast track to becoming a top-ranking executive, had been sent back to the field as a First-Class Information Compiler, completely losing his motivation.

Having rapidly advanced from a Second-Class to a First-Class Information Compiler thanks to his skills (and the Guildmaster being a family elder), Jens was now back in the field.

To go to Si-on Duchy, a distant territory almost like a foreign country, and compile information handed over by a wildcat of a woman he never considered an equal, let alone a rival?

It was called cooperation and management, but wasn’t it more like an assistant role?

“To hell with the whale crap. Who the hell is this person ruining my life?”

Jens resented everything.

The high-risk figure known as the Whale.

Jenna, the wildcat woman who had constantly requested transfers for years despite knowing her place.

And even the Guildmaster, who, despite his connections, did not protect him and immediately demoted him over a single mistake.

But he couldn’t dare rebel against the Guild and the Guildmaster.

“Damn it, then…”

Plip. Plop…

Just then, raindrops began to fall.

“Information is all about what the compiler decides to report, right? So, once in a while, some information might ‘fail’ to reach me due to field errors, and thus, I couldn’t compile it.”

Of course, critical matters would be properly compiled and reported.

But what if some trivial things were omitted, blaming field mistakes?

Or maybe slip that information to a ‘special client’ who might need it?

“And what if that special client subtly highlights my value to the Guild?”

There were very few special clients who could wield influence within the Information Guild.

If just anyone had influence, the Guild’s significance would diminish, so the Guildmaster and the top executives, including the Council of Eight, always maintained a certain distance from their clients.

But some special clients were different.

They were individuals who could sway the entire nation.

The Information Guild could disappear entirely if it didn’t align, at least somewhat, with these individuals.

And among those special clients, the one with the most power, who could significantly elevate Jens’ standing with just a passing remark, was—

“The royal family…”

As thoughts of the ruling family of the Obla Kingdom, currently embroiled in succession disputes, crossed his mind, Jens’ eyes glinted coldly in the intensifying rain.

***

After completing the prisoner trade with Volphart Estate, Si-on and his group’s journey proceeded smoothly.

Of course, by this world’s standards, it was smooth, but for Si-on, who had lived in South Korea, one of the world’s safest societies, it was still a journey plagued by savagery and lawlessness.

“For all the time that’s passed, nothing’s changed.”

Having easily repelled an attack by over 50 bandits who still insisted on testing whether it was dung or soy sauce, even with a caravan of three wagons and over 50 men, Si-on wiped the blood off his sword and surveyed the surroundings.

The size of the attacking group suggested it was a rare large-scale criminal gang.

“Sir! Should we pursue them?”

When Piotr asked if they should chase the enemies who had fled after losing over half their numbers in less than five minutes, Si-on shook his head.

“We can interrogate the wounded ones. We’re unfamiliar with the terrain, and they’ve probably set traps around their mountain base. No need to follow.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll handle the battlefield cleanup!”

It had been nearly a month since they left home.

Though a short time, Piotr had already changed quite a bit.

His reckless behavior in combat, where he failed to check his surroundings, was gone, and he was now able to coordinate well with the mercenaries.

After several battles, he had grown close to the mostly commoner mercenaries, eating, sleeping, and fighting alongside them.

Importantly, he was doing all this on his own initiative, not because someone had ordered him to.

“These guys have decent gear. The last bunch only had junk that wasn’t worth scrap.”

“Seeing as there’s a decent number of them, I bet there’s a bounty on their heads, young master.”

“I’ve told you to stop calling me ‘young master,’ Miska.”

“What else am I supposed to call a young master? Especially when he’s the lord’s son.”

“I’m the youngest, so I’m not becoming the lord. At best, I’ll be a territory knight. You could become one if you wanted to.”

“What, a knight of a rural backwater with fewer than 100 households? No thanks.”

“‘No thanks.’ This job went well, huh?”

“Of course. Heh heh.”

Miska, fond of his peculiar way of speaking, and Piotr, who enjoyed it as well.

“So, young master, up for a match today?”

“Only if you promise not to spit again.”

“Tch! There’s no such thing as fair play in real combat. All that sneaky stuff prolongs your life. And if anything, call it ‘tactful underhandedness.’”

“It’s not ‘tactful underhandedness,’ it’s ‘strategic adaptability.’ Do you, the tactful Mr. Miska, not know that?”

Seeing Piotr getting along so well with Miska, the only other person his age in Janstrick, made Si-on happy.

When they had first joined the mercenary group, they barely spoke to each other, but now they fought side by side during the day and sparred with wooden swords in the evening, becoming friends despite their differing statuses.

“People can change in a month, so why does this world stay the same…”

After nearly a month of traveling, Si-on was now close to his destination.

And the world seemed no different from when Si-on had left for the Dragon Wasteland.

To be precise, it hadn’t changed much since he had faked his death and left the Si-on Duchy to explore the world.

“Is it the same in the places we didn’t pass through?”

“Pardon?”

Jenna, who had been scribbling something in the coachman’s seat, flinched and looked up.

“I asked if other areas are as chaotic as this.”

Si-on’s words, directed at the former bandits—now prisoners—moving the corpses of their former colleagues, made Jenna nod.

“Yes, it’s similar. Especially last year, when poor harvests affected the entire central region, leading to more people starving. I’ve heard estate disputes have also increased compared to a few years ago.”

“Damn estate disputes.”

Si-on clicked his tongue.

The Obla Kingdom had many estates.

Not just many—an overwhelming number.

If you included the estates in other countries?

Si-on was certain there were at least several hundred.

In Obla Kingdom alone, Si-on estimated that the territory was about twice the size of the Korean Peninsula, with roughly half of it being under the control of various lords rather than the royal family.

Estates varied greatly in size; some were as large as provinces, while others were no bigger than small towns or villages, with the majority being roughly the size of a city or county.

As far as Si-on knew, there were about a hundred such estates, possibly more.

And over half of these estates, particularly the count-level large estates that owned province-sized lands, were not under the vassalage of any greater lord.

“They’re the root of all problems.”

With the royal family and powerful counts too far removed to enforce laws, the lords acted with unchecked authority within their territories.

A benevolent lord protecting his people, like Baron Kilburn, the grandson-in-law?

Finding one would be harder than finding a considerate lender, a politician who fulfills 100% of their promises, or a tiger in Joseon times that wouldn’t bother a lone traveler.

Moreover, these lords frequently fought each other.

While some disputes were settled through negotiation, many ended in wars where they battled until one side was utterly ruined.

On his way here, Si-on had already witnessed three such severe territorial wars.

And from the look of things—

“August Estate doesn’t seem to be in good shape either, huh?”

“Yes, here’s the report.”

August Estate, Si-on’s current destination and one of the neighboring estates of the Si-on Duchy.

The estate, ruled by Baron August, who had married into Si-on’s family through two of his grandsons, seemed on the brink of chaos as well.