Chapter 3:

Fire bloomed in the night sky, orange flames licking the air as an inferno brewed on the gardens of the Sutton estate.

Watching the pyre consume itself and the red-robed body laid on it, Vincent Sutton, still clad in his bloodstained armour, bowed his head, mourning the loss of his father. Behind him, the Knights and retainers of House Sutton paid their respects, bowing their heads, towards the fire, filled with respect for the man that had led the house for decades.

While he would have liked to bury his fathers body whole, like the people of Earth did in his memories, Vincent knew that in the world of Yore, it was custom that the bodies of the deceased be burned before they rotted. Living in a society where personal hygiene and waste management were non-existent, corpses would quickly breed diseases and cause them to spread among the vulnerable populace.

As the subjects of House Sutton mourned in silence amongst the manicured gardens, a priest from the church of the God of Combat stepped up to the blaze, chanting blessings as he prayed for the deceased to have smooth passage to the afterlife.

With a protracted roar, the flame consumed the last remains set on the pyre, not even leaving a scrap of cloth or strand of hair. The fire burned brighter, a pillar of light climbing into the sky, reaching for the heavens, like the very Phoenix emblazoned on the banners of the House had come, rising from the flames and crying out to the sky, lighting up the faces of the onlookers as sparks flew through the air, smouldering on patches on grass before burning out.

Unbeknownst to the mourners, even as the pyre burnt out and the ashes of the late Viscount were collected and kept in an ornate urn, to be enshrined among the urns of generations past within the House columbarium, a pair of eyes watched from within the estate.

Moonlight shone through the towering windows, revealing a pair of shimmering purple eyes set in a delicate, fair face, staring down at the proceedings, specifically fixated on a certain male figure. The figure of Vincent, clad in armour and ceremonial sword at his waist, bidding a final farewell with his hand against his heart, gauntlet resting on bloodstained chestplate.

The next day:

“My Liege”

Vincent was seated on the throne, dressed in his official robes of office as the various meritorious retainers of House Sutton stood before him.

He had called them here, planning to use their knowledge to gain an understanding of his fief and the various elements within. Originally, he had planned on conducting the briefing in an office, only to realise that unlike the managers or directors of companies on Earth, most nobles held audiences in their throne rooms or grand halls.

That's something I’m gonna have to work to change. Maybe I can convert one of the rooms adjacent to my new room into an office. This throne, although it looks good, is really uncomfortable.

Sweeping his gaze across his subordinates standing before him, he decided to settle administrative and civil issues with Administrator Halcyon and Butler Niels first, before moving on to military affairs with Knight Commander Blake.

Deciding to break the solemn and depressing mood that saturated the hall, he addressed them in a casual tone. Clearing his throat, he spoke:

“I know that this succession was partially unexpected and I’m as caught off guard as you all are.”

“I hope that you all can give your support to me like you did my father.”

“I may not be as decorated a warrior as he was, and my spiritforce rank is lower than most of our troops, but I hope that you all will serve House Sutton with utmost dedication. “

Settling back into his chair, Vincent waited to see who would be the first to respond.

“My Liege, with all due respect., your spiritforce ranking is of little significance to us.“

“As long as you prove your ability to lead this house to glory, the people will follow you everywhere.”

Knight Commander Blake stepped forward, meeting Vincent's gaze.

“Little Vin, you are the Viscount now. Where you lead, we will follow.”

Hearing Administrator Halcyon's words, Vincent cracked a smile at the mention of his childhood nickname.

“Uncle Halcyon, what's the situation of the fief like currently?”

Unfurling a large beastskin scroll and placing it on a table set up beforehand, the aged Administrator revealed a beautifully hand drawn map of the fief.

Immediately, Vincent noticed the presence of a North Arrow on the upper-right of the map, giving him an indication of the existence of polar magnetic fields, as well as suggesting that magnets, or at least magnetised lodestones, existed.

Around the borders of the map, Vincent noticed mountains to the North, South and West of the fief, depicting the Northedge Mountains and the Darkedge Mountain Range, which almost entirely closed off the fief. On the South end of the Mountains, a small forest emerged, separating the mountains on either side. This was the route through which carriages, men and goods entered the Sutton Fief.

On the East, a river wound upwards, snaking through the land and cutting through forests before it ended at the feet of the Darkedge mountain range. Beyond the river, the maps artist had shaded the remaining area. Vincent knew that this was the territory of the Barbarian Savages, who lived in tribes and fought among themselves, occasionally entering the fief to raid and pillage animals from the villages along the river.

Within the fief itself, Vincent saw a various assortment of images depicting tents, houses, a castle and a wall, with a spider-web like tangle of lines that criss crossed them all.

Drawing his attention to the houses, Halcyon explained that they represented towns, while the tents represented rest stops for messengers or travelers. Across the map, Vincent saw two towns, one positioned along the riverbank near the mountain, as well as one situated on the road that led through the forest and out of the fief.

The first town, Whitesun Town, had a population of around 2,500 men, women and children. With its industries mainly centered around fishing and farming, the town had basic infrastructure, including schools, wells and a low stone-and-wood wall made with uncut stones from the mountains and timber from a nearby wood as well as fields of grain outside its walls.

As for the second, Greendale Town, it was populated by around 3,000 people in total, and was more economically prosperous than Whitesun. The economic centre of the territory, it handled caravans and merchants entering the fief. As such, it possessed well-developed infrastructure, with inns, taverns and a bustling marketplace. Additionally, due to its proximity to a stone quarry, its walls were considerably taller and more robust than Whitesun’s, made entirely out of quarried stone.

Roads led out from these two towns, leading to various farms and ranches scattered around the land, before ultimately reaching the Sutton estate. The source of the castle image on the map, it was situated in the very heart of the network of roads and the center of the fief. Positioned on the top of a small hill, the fortified castle-estate was easily defensible and was traditionally the main residence of the Viscount. With stone brick walls, an iron portcullis and a moat around its walls, it was easily the most secure location in the fief of Northwind.

Finally, Halcyon explained, the wall image positioned in the center of the Greendale Forest, a short distance from the Town itself, represented the garrison wall. Built with stone brick and lime mortar, heavily fortified with troops from House Suttons garrison, it protected the entryway into the realm.

Joining the feet of both mountains on either side, the wall took House Sutton 4 years to build, with countless hours of planning involved. In the centre of the wall, where the road passed through, two iron portcullises were installed. On either side of the wall, guard towers rose from the ground, armed with ballistae and littered with arrowslits.

Staring at the map of his realm, Vincent frowned, brow furrowing as something nagged at the back of his mind. Despite the seemingly well-developed state of the fief, why was his intuition signaling him that something was off?

Abruptly, he turned to Halcyon.

“Uncle”

“Where are the mines? Our fief is surrounded by countless mountains, surely there would be multiple mines that we could harvest from and boost the development of our land.”

“Additionally, why is our land so underutilised? We have miles of land that we’re not using.”

Grimacing, the Administrator tried his best to explain.

“Before your father, our house was only a Barony, our land barely encompassed Greendale and our current Estate. Due to his deeds on the battlefield, the King granted your father an upgraded Title, which can with increased land.”

“Although your father was a great warrior and commander, he lacked administrative and economic wisdom, only going as far as building a quarry near Greendale and building Whitesun. Most of the budget went to the House forces, and paying pension for the soldiers disabled or dead after the Viscounts return from the battlefield, leaving us in our current position.”

Sighing, Vincent couldn’t help but lampoon internally, looking at the unfulfilled potential of the land that his father had earned but never developed seriously.

“Can we send out any surveyors to seek out resources and possible locations for towns and cities?”

From his previous life, Vincent knew that resources were essential if he wished to grow his territory. With metals, stone and wood, he would not be able to achieve most of the plans that he had in store ever since he reawakened his memories.

“Milord, uhh… I'm afraid that although we might be able to send out surveyors with escorts to protect them from wild beasts, we would not have the manpower to develop the infrastructure.”

Ugh! Father… you should have focused more on the prosperity of the land rather than swinging your sword around and having fun in the South

At this point, as Vincent continuously lampooned and lamented, a third voice interjected.

“Master…, our House treasury has no funds for such as expansion as well”

Ahhhhhh! Can’t you see your master is already stressed?

Restraining the urge to scream in frustration, he turned to Niel, who was the one in charge of the House treasury, as well as the one who had spoken.

Arching an eyebrow, he questioned Niel on the state of the House funds.

Bam! He couldn’t help himself. Hearing the answer, he punched the table, shocking the men present.

Six… six hundred gold? That's barely enough to build a road halfway to Whiterun. What happened to all the taxes?

Shit! Father oh my father, how could you pass away and leave me like this...

Feeling the urge to drag his father back from the Afterlife to sound his complaints, Vincent looked his advisers in the eyes, his gaze seemingly pleading for solutions to the predicament he found himself in.

Feeling Halcyon and Niel avoid his gaze, Vincent almost broke out in tears.

Am I supposed to do nothing and wait to die? No… I’ll probably go bankrupt before I die. I’m a Viscount, for Gryphons sake. Our house will be the laughingstock of the Kingdom if one of its Viscounts actually went bankrupt

Just as Vincent really contemplated giving up on his development plans and resorting to tax to keep himself afloat, his eyes met the steely gaze of Knight Commander Blake.

“Commander, do you have a suggestion?”

“Sir, if I may,”

“Go ahead, Blake, knock yourself out.”

“Milord?”

“Uhhh, just go ahead and show us.”

Shit! I should really remember not to use slang from my past life, lest one of my retainers really does “Break a leg” or “Spill Tea”

“Milord, I propose that we go to war.”

“What!” “Absolutely not!”

Immediate outcry came from the two scholars, Niel stepping back in shock as if the very idea of war offended him.

In contrast to his two startled advisers, Vincent's eyes lit up at the proposition.

That's right! Even on Earth, war was the faster way to gain wealth and resources. By capturing enemy soldiers, we may even obtain a free workforce to develop our lands! Ingenious!

At this moment, Vincent could almost picture the stars and stripes flying above his head.