Chapter 400 - 274: The Grassland’s Old Sayings Are a Bit Much (Part 2)

Henry put down his teacup and asked, "Enough about that. Among this batch of nobles, besides that Count, is there anyone else who needs special attention?"

Boman mulled it over for a moment, then shook his head. "To be honest, Henry, there's nothing special about this group of nobles. Many of them participated in the last Alliance Army campaign you organized.

The ones who didn't join before are basically just impoverished Barons and those lesser nobles of the Knight class. They're all scrambling to get in on it this time just to freeload, make a quick buck, and improve their lot in life."

He paused, then continued, "You haven't been in the grasslands as long as we have, so you might not know. There's a saying here: 'A wild horse is no match for a good wife; great strength is no match for many children; and masterful archery is no match for a good leader.'

Deep down, these nobles all know that making the right choice often yields greater rewards than hard work. Henry, you're that good leader. Naturally, they're all desperate for a chance to ride your coattails."

Henry nodded. He knew Boman had misunderstood him, thinking he was worried about potential traitors in their midst.

The only reason these nobles were so eager was that they'd seen his recent, explosive growth in power and resources. They were hoping to get a piece of the pie under his protection.

'Still, this just proves my influence is growing. More and more people are willing to flock to my banner, even if they're just hoping some of the glory rubs off on them. Sigh, I don't want all this fighting and killing. I'm actually a man of peace. If only the emperor would just abdicate willingly...'

'And... what does riding a wild horse have to do with marrying a good wife?'

"Good. In that case, I can rest easy. However, even if these people aren't anyone special, we can't let our guard down. After all, the human heart is a fickle thing. You never know when someone might get funny ideas."

'Boman has way too much time on his hands. I need to find something for him to do. Since he's already running around schmoozing with the nobles anyway, I might as well make him our official socialite.'

"Don't worry, Henry." Boman thumped his chest. "I'll keep an eye on these guys for you. If anyone tries anything funny, I won't go easy on them."

Boman had just finished his chest-thumping declaration when Fass interjected, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Henry, speaking of these nobles, there is one person you might want to pay more attention to. I'm talking about Baron Carlos."

Henry raised an eyebrow slightly, motioning for him to continue.

Fass paused, then said, "Yesterday, his behavior was elegant and perfectly composed. He did such a good job of blending in that he was almost overlooked. Of course, it might just be that Boman was so conspicuous that he drew everyone's attention."

"Hey, what's that got to do with me?!"

Fass leaned back in his chair and continued, "Carlos is in the prime of his life; he's ambitious and capable. His family has been established in the grasslands for many years. They have a strong military and considerable wealth, placing them in the upper echelon. Even your average Viscount has to speak to Carlos with respect.

Don't let his title of Baron fool you. In the grasslands, he's a man of consequence."

Henry nodded. Everyone knew that an imperial title was basically proof of land ownership; the higher the rank, the larger your domain.

But the population, resources, and economic strength of that domain had little to do with the title itself.

Carlos was only a Baron, but the fact that he'd built his family up to this point proved he was no ordinary man. ℴ

Such men are careful, cautious, and self-restrained in their daily lives, but the moment they spot an opportunity, they will soar.

Henry leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping gently on the table. He mused, "So, you're saying he's worth entrusting with a major role?"

Fass nodded and said earnestly, "Exactly. The Carlos family has deep roots in the grasslands, and he himself is extremely ambitious.

If you can get him to stand firmly on your side, it will be a huge help to your future plans. Plus, he commands a unit of elite Cavalry, which is a scarce resource in the grasslands.

The grasslands are small; they can't support too many nobles. But the grasslands are also vast and require many people to govern. If you want to become the Khan of the grasslands, you'll need more capable people to help you control the territory."

Boman chimed in, "Henry, Fass is right. The Hunters of the grasslands value strength above all else, and they're experts at seizing opportunities while avoiding risks."

Henry agreed with Fass and Boman. A man like Baron Carlos either had to become a subordinate or be eliminated as quickly as possible, and he was clearly leaning toward the former.

"I understand." Henry stood up. "I'll keep an eye on Baron Carlos. Since he's ambitious, I'll give him a stage and let him put on a show."

Boman and Fass exchanged a look and nodded. They knew Henry had made his decision, and all they had to do was support him wholeheartedly.

"Don't worry, Henry. Baron Carlos's little schemes won't escape my notice."

Fass added, "I'll help you monitor his activities. If he dares to harbor any ill intentions, I'll be the first to deal with him."

「In Tiyaer, hundreds of miles from Odoche, a group of riders departed from the city gates.」

Selas and Kurt led a company of Cavalry out of Tiyaer, carrying a personal letter from Ratifa.

The letter was carefully folded, wrapped in a layer of sheepskin, and sealed with wax, marking it as a matter of great importance.

This was the task Ratifa had given them—the crucial mission of their journey north.

Inside were two letters. One detailed Ratifa's views on a potential collaboration, while the other contained a personal message from her to Henry.

Selas was burning with curiosity, but he wouldn't dare take a look.

Astride his horse, Selas glanced back at the receding city of Tiyaer. He'd had a wonderful time there.

He'd bought quite a few bearskin goods—thick coats and blankets that were so soft to the touch he found them irresistible.

The thought of being so warm in the grasslands this winter, impervious to the wind and snow, made him grin from ear to ear. When it came to staying warm, the Northern Lands were simply unmatched.

Plus, with a local acting as his guide, the merchants hadn't overcharged or tried to rip him off. The shopping experience had been absolutely phenomenal.

The liquor in the Northern Lands had also left him deeply satisfied. It was a strong ale, and a single gulp felt like it could set his very blood on fire.

One swig and his face flushed. Two, and he broke out in a sweat. Three, and he felt like his whole body was burning!

And the roasted meat was even more divine. Chunks of meat SIZZLING over charcoal, sprinkled with a dash of salt—one bite and his mouth would fill with savory juices, the aroma intoxicating.

Selas couldn't help but smack his lips, savoring the memory of those delicious flavors. He even thought the fruit in the Northern Lands seemed sweeter than what they had in the grasslands, and the meat was chewier than that from their own pastures.

The contrast made him marvel. The Northern Lands might be cold, but the food was surprisingly delicious.

"Thinking about that roasted meat again?" Kurt asked, riding up alongside him.

Selas snapped out of it and chuckled. "You know it! That roasted meat in the Northern Lands is just unforgettable. I wish I could pack up the whole stall and take it back to the grasslands."

Kurt looked down at his horse's mane for a moment. After some hesitation, he finally said, "I agree, the food in the Northern Lands is excellent. Aside from the cold and the lack of development, it's a really nice place."

Selas nodded, his gaze drifting toward the distant, snowy plains.

The winters in the Northern Lands might be long and cold, but the people were warm and hospitable, the food was plentiful, and life was simple yet fulfilling.

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy for this way of life. He knew he had to return to the grasslands eventually, but this experience would surely become a cherished memory.

Just imagine, food so good it could make a man who's usually at a loss for words bring it up on his own. How delicious must it have been?

"Let's go. We need to make time," Selas said, waving his hand to urge the column forward.

The Cavalry followed him, heading ever northward.