Post-Battle Conference

At 5 p. m., Victor and Benjamin, accompanied by the scribe, went to the First Legion's camp in Iron Birch Territory, where they were led by guards who were already waiting to meet them to Count Colt's command tent.

Pushing aside the wool felt curtain of the main tent, Victor Viscount Benjamin, and the scribe entered Count Colt's tent. The tent was already occupied by several people: Philip the Viscount Sage Legion Commander the First Legion of the Northern Alliance Army, Viscount Edmund the Viscount Crimson Maple, Legion Deputy Commander, and the legion's scribe; and Albert Holly, Legion Deputy Commander of the First Legion Iron Birch Legion, and his scribe.

At this moment, a strange smell of mint and sulfur wafted through Count Colt's scarlet tent, and Victor crushed a loose sulfur crystal with the sole of his boot.

He noticed that Philip the Viscount Sage's silver incense burner was rolling on the table, with pale blue smoke seeping out from the fine openwork patterns—this was a calming incense specially made by the Sage family.

"Look who's here?" Viscount Edmund Viscount Crimson Maple tapped his wine glass with his malachite cufflinks, a suspicious scorch mark still clinging to his Fire Fox emblem cloak. "Our young hero has come to collect his reward with an old fellow covered in bandages?"

Viscount Benjamin's steel boots left bloody marks on the carpet, and his injuries made his steps unsteady, but his voice was like the clanging of cold iron. "It's still better than some people who wet their pants just from smelling the horse manure of the Iron Bone Tribe five miles away." He deliberately knocked over the ink bottle of the Crimson Maple Territory's scribe, and the purplish-black liquid splashed onto Edmund's deerskin boots.

Viscount Philip's silver spoon suddenly struck a crystal glass, the crisp, resonant sound interrupting the argument. "Benjamin, the Crimson Maple Territory's troops fought a bloody battle against the Iron Bone Tribe, but they were defeated because they were outnumbered."

"Old Philip, if you were in charge, you would definitely engage them in battle while waiting for reinforcements, instead of opening up the valley entrance and letting them deploy their forces ahead of time."

"You're talking nonsense! My men fought bravely too. It was Ironbone who defeated them by using their numerical advantage and a sneak attack." Viscount Edmund was somewhat exasperated.

The main tent suddenly trembled from the muffled thud of the Black Iron Scepter striking the ground. Count Colt, draped in a cloak, entered the tent, the sapphire at the top of the scepter gleaming with a venomous light under the whale oil lamp. "Stop arguing. You have all completed your tasks. At least our objectives for this campaign have been largely achieved."

"More than that, I've already sent people to the Third Legion to question them. I also want to know why the Iron Bone Tribe is here."

"However, regardless of the circumstances, the Third Legion failed to complete its assigned combat mission and instead negatively impacted the final outcome of the entire battle. Therefore, the Third Legion will not be eligible for post-battle evaluation and will not be promoted to noble rank. Do you have any objections?"

"We will follow the Governor's arrangements." No one was unwilling; they would all wholeheartedly agree to the fact that the nobles of the Third Legion would not share the credit.

Seeing that no one objected, the Count turned around and unfolded the parchment map. "Before this battle began, I had already applied to His Grace the Grand Duke for five Viscount-level merit. As long as we defend against the attack of the Barbarian Tribal Alliance and inflict heavy damage, we can obtain these five Viscount-level merit. We have now met the requirements, and I will urge His Excellency the His Grace the Grand Duke to approve them all."

According to the rules of nobility promotion in the duchy, promotion to viscount requires one Viscount-level merit or three Baron-level merit, and the same applies to baron, who can be promoted with one Baron-level merit or three major merits. This applies to independent hereditary nobles.

If you only want a lifelong noble title like a lord, you only need one major merit or three medium merits. When you get the title, you will also receive a manor or village of 5 to 10 square kilometers as your fief. However, the title and fief will be revoked after your death.

One medium merit can be exchanged for three low merits, one low merit can be exchanged for 1 square kilometer of land, and one medium merit can be exchanged for 5 square kilometers of land. However, both of these are for barren land, and few people use merits directly. Instead, they try to save them up to exchange for a great merit to obtain a lifetime title, because merits in the duchy can be inherited. The Baron-level merit that Victor used to be promoted to viscount was passed down from his grandfather.

"This time, the First Legion the Iron Birch can take one Viscount-level merit and two Baron-level merit. The remaining three Viscount-level merit and one Baron-level merit can be given to the Northern Frontier Allied First Legion and Second Legion of the Northern Noble Alliance."

Viscount Albert Holly nodded in agreement. After all, Count Colt was the Legion Commander of the First Legion Iron Birch Legion, and since his boss had agreed, he had no right to say anything.

Viscount Philip's incense ball rolled to the edge of the map. "The First Legion of the Allied Army participated in all the battles against the Central Route Army of the Barbarians, and according to Article 7 of Chapter 4 of the Kingdom Merit Law... we should receive half of it."

"Bullshit!" Viscount Benjamin ripped off the blood-stained bandages, and the stench of rotting flesh immediately filled the tent. "While the Second Legion annihilated the Right Route Army and held off the main force of 40,000 Central Route Army troops outside, your scouts were still counting crows twenty miles away!"

Edmund suddenly chuckled, "I've heard that a certain viscount's army has many serfs. I wonder if these slaves, who should be cultivating the land, resent the viscount who led them to their deaths on the battlefield."

A flash of cold light. Victor's sword grazed Edmund's ear and embedded itself in a tent pillar, the ramie rope wrapped around its hilt still trembling. "If even a single drop of blood is shed by the warriors of Crimson Maple Territory," he gripped the hilt and slowly spun it, "Not a single barbarian in the Barbarians will escape."

Count Colt's scepter suddenly appeared between the two, and the sapphire's refracted light caused Edmund to quickly cover his eyes.

"The Second Legion alone enjoys two Viscount-level merit." He pointed his scepter at three blood-stained marks on the map. "Iron Birch Territory takes one viscount and two barons, Allied Army First Legion takes one viscount and one baron."

Viscount Philip's silver spoon scraped harshly across the parchment. "Your Excellency, according to the casualty ratio..."

"Based on the casualty ratio, these credits should all go to the Barbarians," Benjamin snatched Viscount Philip's silver spoon and broke it in two. Viscount Philip jumped up. "You rude bastard, this was passed down from my grandfather."

"Yes, the tableware your grandfather left behind could fill two stables. Next time, I'll set your entire storeroom on fire, and you can recast it all and give it to your grandson," Viscount Benjamin said nonchalantly.

Baron Philip was trembling with rage.

Count Colt tapped the ground with his scepter again. "That's settled then. The merits within each legion will be distributed among themselves. Once the list is confirmed, it will be reported to my scribe, and then I will send someone to Silver Maple City to report to the Grand Duke and the Noble Council for record-keeping."

Victor then immediately took Viscount Benjamin away from the main tent. He needed to get Viscount Benjamin to the medical squadron as soon as possible, as his wound had reopened.