Miguel was habitually in his office, sitting at his wooden desk full of papers and sketches. The soft afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the room with a warm glow. John, the captain of the city guard, stood before him, displaying a more mature and confident posture than ever. Miguel watched this change with admiration.
"John, I'm impressed with your development. You have truly become a leader," Miguel said, smiling.
"Thank you, my lord," John replied humbly. "I have been striving to meet the expectations."
"How is the recruitment process and the strengthening of the army?" asked Miguel, eager to know the details.
"In these past two months, I have trained two hundred new recruits who are being integrated into the city's military force as we speak," John responded firmly. "Including all the villages and guard posts, we have nearly twelve hundred soldiers. Additionally, three hundred more have volunteered and are in training."
Miguel reflected on this information; the number of soldiers was extremely low... It was understandable due to the low population density of this new kingdom. For now, Miguel decided to ask about the soldiers' payments.
"I understand, John. And are you handling the payments as I directed?" Miguel asked.
"We are paying the soldiers' wages with silver coins and food rations, as per your instructions, my lord," John replied. "This has kept everyone motivated and well-fed."
Miguel nodded, satisfied with the progress. "You are doing an excellent job, John. If you need more resources, do not hesitate to inform me."
After some conversation about operational and logistical details, Miguel changed the subject. "Now that I am king, I have many matters to handle. I have decided to delegate administrative tasks to better manage the kingdom."
John looked at Miguel with an expression of curiosity and anticipation. "What do you have in mind, my lord?"
"I am going to appoint you as the Secretary of Defense of the kingdom," announced Miguel. "You will be responsible for all administration and defense strategies."
John was visibly surprised and somewhat confused. "Secretary of Defense? How exactly does that work?"
Miguel smiled, anticipating John's reaction. "Essentially, you will be the head of the military forces. All strategic and administrative decisions related to defense will go through you. It is a position of great responsibility, but I trust in your ability."
John felt a mix of pride and responsibility. "It will be an honor, my lord. I will do my best."
"With this new role, we will need a new captain of the guard," Miguel continued, looking at Ricardo, who was standing nearby. "Ricardo, you will be the new captain of the guard. Do you agree with this?"
Ricardo, always loyal, nodded. "It will be an honor, my lord. I will do everything necessary to protect our city and our kingdom."
John also agreed. "I think it is an excellent choice, my lord. Ricardo has the experience and wisdom needed for this position."
Miguel felt a wave of relief and satisfaction. "Then it is decided. John as Secretary of Defense and Ricardo as Captain of the Guard. Together, we will further strengthen our kingdom."
The three men exchanged looks of understanding and commitment. Miguel knew he was surrounded by reliable and capable allies, ready to face any challenge that might arise. He felt he was on the right path to building a strong and prosperous kingdom.
Miguel then turned back to the documents on the desk, knowing that with the right team by his side, he could focus on the next steps for the growth and defense of Drakmoor.
---
Miguel observed the documents and sketches spread across his desk with an intense and worried look. The lit candles illuminated the office, casting dancing shadows on the walls. He was deep in thought, trying to find a solution to the problem he had just realized. He wanted to produce various items en masse, but how could he do that without industry, without factories? This place lacked the necessary infrastructure to support a modern production line.
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He ran his hand through his hair, feeling the tension building in his head. All of this was another headache. He knew he needed a practical and quick solution, but in a feudal world, things were very different from what he was used to in his previous life as an engineer.
He thought about how to mass-produce the plow. He knew that now a large part of the city's workforce was focused on brick production and road construction, but that wasn't enough. The city was still vulnerable, and he needed an efficient production system to strengthen defenses and ensure the prosperity of the new kingdom.
He got up from his chair and began pacing the office, trying to organize his thoughts. He needed to find a way to increase productivity with the limited resources at his disposal. Ideas rushed through his mind, but none seemed to be the ideal solution.
Miguel thought about the possibility of implementing a kind of rudimentary assembly line, where different stages of production would be carried out in different locations and then assembled at a single point. He would need to train more people to work as blacksmiths and carpenters, but that would take time. Time he did not have.
He looked out the window and saw the city in the distance, the lights of the houses shining in the darkness. The sight of the city gave him a new perspective. He knew he needed more skilled labor, but how to attract these people to his kingdom?
He decided he needed to invest in education and training. He needed to create a system to train new blacksmiths and carpenters, even if rudimentary at first. He could build schools and workshops where the more experienced could teach the novices. In this way, he would soon have an army of specialized workers ready to help with mass production.
Additionally, he thought about the possibility of forming trade alliances with the beastmen. They might have resources and skills that would complement those of the kingdom of Drakmoor. Miguel knew he would need diplomacy and negotiation skills to establish these alliances, but he was willing to do whatever was necessary.
He also considered the idea of creating an incentive system to attract more skilled workers from other regions. Offering better living conditions, security, and growth opportunities could be an attraction for artisans and workers from other areas to move to Drakmoor.
Miguel sat down again at the table and began to write down all these ideas on a parchment. He knew it wouldn't be easy to implement all of this, but he was determined to do whatever it took to ensure the prosperity and security of his kingdom.
As Miguel worked in his office, immersed in his thoughts about the difficulties and challenges he faced, he heard a gentle knock on the door. He looked up and, to his surprise, saw Marta, the cook, entering with a tray. She brought a steaming pot of tea and a small tray of cookies.
Marta smiled warmly as she entered. "Good evening, my lord. I brought some tea and cookies to help you relax while you work," she said, placing the tray on Miguel's table.
Miguel smiled back, grateful. "Thank you, Marta. But you don't have to do this at this hour of the night. I know you already have a long day of work."
She shook her head with a serene smile. "It's the least I can do, my lord. My family and I are very grateful for everything you are doing. If it weren't for your leadership, we would be starving or in the hands of those mercenaries."
Miguel was touched by her words. He knew that the weight of the responsibility he carried was great, but hearing Marta's sincere thanks made it all worthwhile. "Do you have a family in the city, Marta?" he asked, interested.
"Yes, my lord. I have a 10-year-old daughter, and my husband is a farmer. We all live in the city," she explained, with a proud sparkle in her eyes.
Miguel nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He remembered that each person in the kingdom had a family and a life, and now their hopes and futures were in his hands. "I'm glad to know you're safe. It's for you that we are fighting to improve this place," he said, with a reassuring smile.
Marta nodded, her eyes shining. "Thank you, my lord."
She then left, leaving Miguel alone with his thoughts. He looked at the tray of tea and cookies, feeling a wave of gratitude and responsibility. He took a sip of the tea, feeling the comforting warmth spread through his body, and bit into a crunchy cookie.
As he savored the tea and cookies, he reflected on Marta's words. He knew he could not forget the importance of each life in his kingdom. He needed to keep working hard to ensure a better future for everyone. He finished the tea and cookies, feeling renewed, and returned to his documents, determined to do his best for his people before finally going to sleep.
---Royal Capital, Kingdom of Ardia---
The training field was bustling that morning. Under the scorching sun, one man stood out. He was shirtless, sweat running down his defined muscles. He wielded a wooden sword, simulating a fight. Three soldiers, also armed with wooden swords, surrounded him, ready to attack. Other soldiers watched, eager to see the spectacle.
Erondir, the blond man with long hair, looked at each of his opponents with a determined gaze. With impressive speed, he moved to the left, dodging the first strike. He spun around and struck the soldier on the back with the wooden sword, knocking him to the ground.
Without giving the second soldier time to react, Erondir advanced, blocking the attack with his sword and delivering a quick blow to the shoulder, making the opponent stagger back. With an agile move, he turned to the third soldier who was already attacking. Erondir ducked, avoiding the strike, and used his sword to hit the soldier's legs, bringing him down.
The fallen soldiers groaned, trying to recover, while Erondir stood, panting but victorious. Erondir’s impressive combat skills left everyone present in awe.
From the side of the field, Erondir heard slow and sarcastic clapping. He looked over and saw the king's advisor, a man with a treacherous smile on his face. Despite his general distrust of advisors, Erondir knew this was one of the few who inspired some degree of trust.
“Incredible as always, Erondir,” said the advisor, with an approving tone in his voice.
Erondir grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face, handing his wooden sword to a nearby soldier. He approached the advisor, looking him in the eyes. “What is such a noble man doing in this den of real men?” he asked with an ironic smile.
The advisor gestured for them to leave. “It's better we talk in a more private place,” he said, leading Erondir to a secluded area. As they walked, the advisor complained about the difficulty of finding Erondir. “I should have remembered that, above all, you are a soldier. Of course, you'd be here if not in other places.”
Reaching a more secluded spot, the advisor got straight to the point. He handed Erondir a letter sealed with the royal symbol. “It was written and signed by the king himself,” said the advisor, before leaving.
Erondir, now alone, sat on a bench and carefully opened the letter. The contents were clear and direct. King Albert III wrote firmly, ordering Erondir to be an observer in the duchy of the Vonmain family. The letter stated that Erondir should help the duchy root out treason. According to the king, one of the duke’s sons was aligning with the beastmen of the region, something unacceptable to the crown.
The king also ordered that, if possible, the duke’s traitorous son be brought back alive, as he intended to use him as an example in the capital for all to see what happens when someone aligns with these beasts, whether they are peasants or nobles.
Erondir closed the letter, reflecting on the orders he had received. He knew the mission would not be easy. The alliance with the beastmen was a delicate and dangerous matter. The kingdom was in a moment of great tension, and any false move could trigger a war. But, as a loyal soldier to the king, Erondir knew he had to fulfill his mission, even if it meant infiltrating a territory filled with intrigues and dangers.
He resolved to carry out King Albert III’s order, knowing that the future of the kingdom and the Vonmain family duchy depended on his actions. With one last look at the training field, where the soldiers were recovering from the simulated fight, Erondir stood up, ready to face the new challenge ahead.
“Well, it seems I have no choice after all.”