Carnford's reconstruction gradually got back on track, but every task had become tangled and overwhelmingly complicated.
Old Morrell had been run off his feet lately because Karl had officially appointed him Carnford's clerk.
The position meant that he had to handle nearly all the administrative affairs within the domain.
As a former assistant engineer of the Kingdom Military Engineering Bureau, Old Morrell was the only person in all of Carnford with a higher education, systematic management knowledge, and clerical skills.
He was responsible for registering the new Freemen, tallying the granary's daily consumption and inventory, planning material distribution, recording all kinds of incidents, and even beginning to consider future sources of income for the domain...
All sorts of trivial yet necessary tasks piled up on his desk like snowflakes.
By contrast, Karl himself seemed to have become a "hands-off manager."
Old Morrell gradually discovered several characteristics—or rather, "shortcomings"—of the young Lord.
Karl displayed astonishing talent and enthusiasm in military matters, but he had little interest in, and was not particularly skilled at, tedious daily administration. He could always come up with refreshing, extremely forward-looking ideas.
For example, semi-subterranean houses, a slave management system, and a merit-based reward system. But whenever it came to how to implement, refine, and maintain them over the long term, he seemed at a loss, often waving his hand and leaving the details to Old Morrell and Brendan to worry about.
Karl was more like a born military commander than an all-around ruler.
Almost all his energy was focused on the army. He personally participated in drawing up training plans, supervised the soldiers' drills, studied tactics, and considered defensive deployments.
As for domestic administration, he entrusted almost all of it to Old Morrell and Brendan, who was increasingly showing his talent for management.
That morning, another piece of good news arrived.
Brendan and Roland had successfully refined the precious magical powder known as "Northern Wind Breath."
The effect was remarkable. With the boost from that pure energy, the young Roland successfully broke through his bottleneck and advanced straight to Second-Order Knight. The strength of his Battle Qi, his physical capabilities, and his reaction speed all improved dramatically, causing his combat power to surge.
However, the aged Brendan failed to break through.
Perhaps he was simply too old, and his body's potential had been exhausted. Perhaps the years of campaigning had left him with too many hidden injuries. Or perhaps it was a matter of his state of mind...
The energy of "Northern Wind Breath" circulated through his body, but in the end, it only consolidated his strength at the peak of the First Order and failed to help him cross that crucial threshold.
It seemed that his path of knightly cultivation had come to an end.
Karl had been wondering how to comfort the diligent old knight, but unexpectedly, Brendan found him first.
Brendan's expression was calm, even carrying a hint of relief. "My Lord, it seems that my path as a knight has reached its end. I won't need to spend so much time cultivating Battle Qi and honing my martial skills anymore. I think I can take on more of the specific affairs for you, whether assisting Mr. Morr with administration or handling part of the new recruits' military training. Please grant me permission."
Karl looked into the old knight's frank eyes, deeply moved, and immediately agreed to his request.
He officially appointed Brendan as Carnford's Military Chief. The exact rank and title would be refined later. He would be responsible for daily training, maintaining military discipline, and assisting with the formulation of defense plans.
Taking this opportunity, Karl also decided to further improve the military structure.
Richter was managing thirty City Defense Army veterans by himself. It was exhausting and also concentrated too much power in one person's hands.
After discussing it with Brendan and Richter, Karl decided to promote two or three outstanding City Defense Army veterans to become Sergeant Majors and share the management responsibilities.
Thus, Old Morrell took charge of domestic affairs, while Brendan oversaw military training and daily defense. The two became Karl's true "right- and left-hand men."
This crude yet effective management system finally freed Karl from the mass of detailed affairs, allowing him to devote more energy to considering the domain's overall strategy and future direction of development.
At that moment, Karl's "office" was set up in a corner of the simply cleared main hall on the castle's first floor.
Although the place was still dilapidated and unfit for habitation, setting up a table, several bookshelves, and a few chairs made it suitable for handling official business temporarily.
Old Morrell entered carrying a thick stack of parchment scrolls and wooden tablets, his face showing both exhaustion and fulfillment.
"My Lord." He placed the documents on Karl's desk. "These are the documents that require your review and seal."
"The population registration is basically complete. There are still very few Freemen at present. This is the list, along with drafts of the identification documents prepared for them. They require your final signature and seal." Old Morrell handed over a roster.
Karl took it and gave it a quick scan before picking up a quill and signing his name. He then took the copper seal representing his identity as Lord from a small wooden box. It was engraved with the Schmidt Family crest. After dipping it in ink, he solemnly stamped it onto each certificate.
"Second," Old Morrell continued, his tone turning serious. "According to our statistics, we're consuming our grain and fodder very quickly. Living off our reserves is by no means a long-term solution. We must restore agricultural production around the castle as soon as possible. I've made a preliminary survey. The land at the foot of the mountain is fairly fertile; it has simply been abandoned for a long time. We need labor, seeds, and farming tools."
Karl nodded. "Raise this matter to the highest priority. Draw up a reclamation plan as soon as possible. How many people, what tools, and which seeds—we'll allocate them directly from the warehouse. If we don't have something, tell me. I'll find a way to buy it in Fran City. Give priority to the Freemen and the slaves who have performed well."
"Third." Old Morrell sighed. "This is the most important issue. We currently have no source of income at all. All our expenses—including the soldiers' pay, everyone's rations, and tool wear—are being supported entirely by the funds you brought from your family and the spoils from last time. This is absolutely not sustainable. We must find a way to generate income as soon as possible."
Karl furrowed his brows. This was indeed a troublesome problem.
At the Northern Territory's front line, commercial activity had nearly ground to a halt, and taxes were out of the question.
"I understand. I need to think this over carefully." He rubbed his brow.
Finally, Old Morrell's tone lightened somewhat as he handed over a small application slip. "Oh, there's one last matter. It's a good one, more or less. The new Freeman Otto wants to marry the slave Marissa, and Marissa herself has agreed. According to the rules, they need your approval. In addition, Otto has requested permission for them to build a separate, smaller house for the couple to live in."
Karl smiled when he heard this.
This was exactly the scene he had hoped to see: stability, families, and anticipation for the future. More importantly, he could now collect taxes.
He picked up his pen and readily wrote the words "Approved" on the application slip, then signed his name.
"Tell them they may build the house, but they have to use their free time and cannot interfere with their regular work. They can request materials from the warehouse according to regulations."
"Yes, my Lord." Old Morrell gathered up all the documents, bowed, and withdrew.
Karl sat alone at the desk, looking out the window at the soldiers training and the busy populace.
Domestic administration was far more tedious than he had imagined, but fortunately, he had found trustworthy helpers.
And now, how to make Carnford "generate its own lifeblood" had become the most pressing problem before him.
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