Killing Two Birds with One Stone, Establishing Authority and Winning Hearts

Killing Two Birds with One Stone, Establishing Authority and Winning Hearts

Look at you, acting like you've never seen the world!

Faced with Eric's question, Raven smiled smugly to himself, but his hands did not pause in the slightest.

What was happening in the oil barrel was one of the most basic chemical reactions that practically every middle school student from his previous life knew, something covered in detail in junior high chemistry classes—the Saponification Reaction.

The substance settled at the bottom of the barrel was Sodium Stearate, the main component of soap.

It sounded basic, but Raven had made plenty of mistakes along the way.

At first, he added too much Quicklime and blew up a clay jar. Later, he forgot to heat the mixture, causing the reaction to remain incomplete and preventing the saponification process from finishing. Then, after finally producing Caustic Soda, he used a Cast Iron Pot for the final reaction, causing Sodium Bicarbonate to react with iron and leaving him with a pot full of yellowish-brown iron hydroxide mixed with grease.

"A stick." Once the reaction was nearly finished, Raven held out a hand to the side, and Bolo passed him a peeled willow branch.

He dipped the branch into the oil. Before long, its tender green surface was coated in a dry, burnt-yellow layer. Seeing this, Raven quickly poured in the vinegar he had prepared beforehand. Only when the willow branch no longer changed color after being dipped in did he finally let out a long breath.

The previous failures had all happened because the Caustic Soda inside had not been fully neutralized.

This time, before he even gave the order, Bolo had already placed a large wooden basin covered with filter cloth on the table.

"Was it washed?" Raven asked.

Bolo replied loudly, "Yes! I scrubbed it three times with soap. It's definitely cleaner than my face!"

Seeing Bolo's thick beard, Raven was speechless for a moment.

Eric took the initiative to handle the heavy work. Carrying the barrel full of oil, he poured its contents into the basin under Raven's direction. Soon, a massive lump of soap weighing nearly twenty pounds was left stuck atop the filter cloth.

Bolo, already familiar with the process, lifted the filter cloth, gave it a shake, and tossed the soap inside into a corner.

Eager for Raven to deal with the matter at hand, Eric picked up the wooden basin and headed straight for the dirty water bucket.

Raven roared himself hoarse, "Stop! What are you doing!?"

"Huh?" Eric froze. "I'm helping you dump this stuff out."

"If you dare pour that away, I'll fight you to the death!" Raven rushed forward and snatched the wooden basin from his hands. "I've been stuck here for three days and failed more than ten times! What do you think I did all that for!?"

"It was all for this!"

Raven carried the basin back to the table, took off his gloves, scooped up a little with a spoon, and touched it to the tip of his tongue. A satisfied smile immediately spread across his face.

Thick, faintly sweet, and extremely similar to honey.

That was right. This was Glycerin!

Although the Glycerin was impure due to the crude process and carried a faint stench of pork, it was more than usable!

Suppressing his excitement, Raven said, "Bring the wine."

Bolo carried a jar of grape wine over to Raven and brought three silver cups as well.

Seeing Eric's eager face at the prospect of tasting fine wine, Bolo whispered, "I wouldn't get your hopes up too high."

Under Eric's baffled gaze, Raven opened the wine jar, scooped a little Glycerin into the wine with a Wooden Spoon, and began stirring.

Eric's eyes widened like bells. What a waste! That was a jar of fine grape wine that cost five Silver Coins and seventy Copper Coins, and Lord Raven was mixing it with soapmaking leftovers!?

Raven paid no attention to his stare. After stirring for a while, he took a small sip himself, then smiled brightly as he poured the wine into the cups. "Try it."

Eric nervously lifted his cup, wondering how he could phrase things later without hurting Lord Baron's pride. But the instant the wine entered his mouth, he froze.

He lowered the cup and stared incredulously at the purplish-red liquid within. Then he cautiously took another sip, lowered it again, looked at it again, raised it for another taste, and his eyes grew brighter and brighter. Even those tiny eyes of his could not hide their astonishment and satisfaction.

"My lord, this... this is simply incredible!" Eric said. "I've never tasted wine this sweet and smooth before. Only in dreams... no! Not even in dreams have I ever encountered anything like it!"

What a bootlicker. Who would have thought that a broad-browed Nord man like you could be so good at this?

Bolo grumbled inwardly as he lifted his cup and drained it in one gulp. His hand loosened, and the cup dropped to the floor with a snap.

How could there be wine this delicious in the world?

There was not a trace of bitterness. It was smooth as silk, sweet as honey, yet its flavor had been preserved to an extraordinary degree. It was even better than the finest Red Wine he could imagine!

"My lord... is this magic!?"

Watching their reactions, Raven felt immensely pleased and relaxed. With a mysterious smile, he said, "That is the secret."

Red Wine was bitter and astringent because large amounts of tannins were produced during fermentation, and Glycerin was one of the best substances for neutralizing tannins.

He raised his cup and took another sip. In his view, this Red Wine was still far from premium. It was not even as good as the cheap bottles sold in supermarkets in his previous life. If he tasted carefully, he could still detect a faint pork-fat smell.

But even so, it had already far surpassed the average standard of this world.

This was the power of knowledge, the power of nine years of compulsory education!

At that moment, Eric's eyes suddenly reddened, and tears began dripping down his face.

Raven was startled. "Is the wine really that good? If you like it, I'll give you the whole jar."

"No, my lord," Eric said. "I was just thinking that Simon might never get to drink such good wine again, and I just... I just..."

"Simon!?" Raven was shocked. "What happened to him? Was there an accident during training?"

"No..." Eric sighed and recounted the entire incident from beginning to end without embellishing a single detail.

After hearing him out, Raven's expression darkened. "Where is Weston?"

Eric answered, "In the courtyard."

"Good." Raven took off his cook's uniform and strode toward the door. "Come with me!"

The moment he entered the hall, Raven saw Denise seated at a table, while Weston lay sprawled across it, crying his heart out.

When Denise saw Raven arrive, she stood and said sharply, "Raven, I want an explanation!"

Raven asked coldly, "What explanation?"

"Weston is your brother, a member of the Griffith Family!" Denise declared righteously. "Yet your subordinate dared to imprison Weston without your orders. Defying his superior is an unforgivable crime!"

She pointed at Gaul. "I demand that you punish this guard immediately!"

Following her finger, Raven saw Link standing there with his head lowered. The Private Soldiers he had newly recruited were gathered by the doorway, watching what was happening in the hall with timid, uncertain looks in their eyes.

Raven's heart sank, but he immediately made his decision. "Fine. Since Aunt wants an explanation, I'll give you one!"

He walked past Denise, grabbed Weston by the collar, and dragged him outside!

Although Weston weighed a full two hundred pounds, Raven was more than half a head taller than him. The physique Raven had developed from spending his days in the dangerous underworld was not something a weak, fat man could compare to.

"Ahhh!!!" Weston screamed. "Raven, what are you doing!? Mother, Mother, save me—"

Denise was nearly stunned by the sight. She shouted and tried to rush forward, but Eric, clad in full iron armor, blocked her path.

"Raven, he is your brother!"

With a cold expression, Raven dragged Weston out of the hall. The surrounding Private Soldiers quickly moved aside.

Weston yelled, "Raven! What are you doing? I only injured a Low-life! Are you going to punish me just because of that!?"

With a thud, Raven kicked the back of his knee, forcing him to drop stiffly to the ground. His knees slammed into the hard stone steps, and Weston immediately let out an inhuman shriek of pain.

He was about to continue cursing when he heard the sharp ring of a blade leaving its sheath. Then the cold edge of a thrusting sword rested against his throat.

Weston's scream stopped abruptly.

Raven swept his gaze across the Private Soldiers and shouted, "I believe all of you know him. Weston Griffith, my brother, and the one responsible for Simon's grave injuries!"

"I know what you are all thinking—I am a noble, and he is my younger brother, so naturally I will favor him. Simon's injuries will have been suffered for nothing!"

The Private Soldiers all lowered their heads, because that was exactly what they had thought.

Raven took a deep breath. "Let me tell you, that idea is completely wrong!"

"He may indeed be my brother, but you, my soldiers, are even closer to me than family. You are like my own children!"

"I, Raven Ota Griffith, swear here before the Lord of Light!"

"If anything happens to Simon, Weston will be buried with him!"

At that moment, Weston's body began to tremble. He wanted to scream, but the blade pressed tightly against his flesh frightened him so badly that he did not dare move. Only murky tears streamed from his eyes.

Raven was serious. He truly intended to kill him!

Denise's expression was equally unpleasant, but it was not merely because of Weston's safety. She had seen Laxus go to treat Simon, and enough time had already passed that Simon's wounds surely would not be fatal. Weston's life would therefore be safe.

What truly alarmed her was Raven's methods.

Business was like war. Having spent years navigating the commercial world, how could she fail to see that Raven was killing the chicken to scare the monkeys?

He was warning her not to make any moves behind his back. He dared to kill Weston, and he would not be soft-hearted toward Denise either!

Beyond that, Raven had another purpose: to use this incident to win people's hearts. The Private Soldiers now looked at Raven with fanatical eyes full of worship, gratitude, and respect, as though they were gazing up at a god.

Denise believed that from this day onward, even if Raven ordered these men to die, they would not hesitate in the slightest!

Pitiful people, manipulated by another. Even until their deaths, they would never know that Raven had already anticipated the outcome. This was merely a performance, a grand play!

And the one who had built the stage for him was none other than her useless son!

A lucky coincidence?

No, impossible. Raven's approach was far too mature and orderly. He was like the most shrewd politician imaginable!

That lowly street thug from an Orphanage possessed such clear judgment and such seasoned methods, as if he had lived two lifetimes.

Was he really only twenty years old!?

"Baron Raven." Laxus's appearance interrupted Denise's thoughts. "I have treated Simon."

Raven asked, "How is he?"

"His injuries are serious, but he is not in danger," Laxus said. "Simon is in very good physical condition, and the Leather Helmet you provided greatly reduced the impact, preventing any fatal wounds. After my treatment, he only needs two days of rest to recover completely."

"Thank you for your aid." Raven placed a hand over his chest. "I will have someone send the consultation fee to the Church."

Laxus nodded in return, glanced at Weston on the ground, then turned and left without saying a word.

On her way here, Laxus had already learned the full story. Though kind-hearted, she would not waste that kindness on someone like him.

"Let... let me go..." Weston's body went limp. "That low... Simon isn't dead, is he!?"

"Death may be spared, but punishment cannot." Raven said icily, "You left a wound on Simon's head. So I will leave a wound on yours!"

Before Weston could understand what he meant, his scalp suddenly turned cold. Half his head became wet and hot, and then a large piece of bloody scalp, hair and flesh still attached, was sliced away and flung to the ground!

The Private Soldiers' breathing grew heavy.

On the ground, bright red blood seeped from that strip of scalp into the soil, just as Raven's kindness sank deeply into their hearts.

From that day on, they knew they were not worthless Lowlifes. They were Lord Raven's Private Soldiers, and Lord Raven would protect them as he protected his own children.

Even if their enemy was a noble!

"Long live Lord Raven—"

No one knew who began it, but then all the Private Soldiers shouted together:

"Long live Lord Raven—"

Weston scrambled and rolled back into the hall, threw himself into Denise's arms, and wailed, "Mother!!!"

Denise's hand brushed over Weston's wound. Blood soaked her chest, and fury rose from the depths of her heart. "Raven!"

"Since you dared to harm Weston for the sake of a Low-life, then from this day on, do not expect to receive even half a Copper Coin of support from me!"

Raven turned around. With a flick of his wrist, blood droplets scattered from the blade onto the ground. He spun the sword before sheathing it, then asked coldly, "And then?"

"In twenty days, it will be Donald's funeral!" Denise said with a sneer. "Where are the hall decorations, your formal attire, all the ceremonial items needed, and the gifts for the guests!?"

Raven gave a scornful laugh. "You need not concern yourself with that, Aunt."

"Fine, then keep putting on a brave front." Denise said, "Three days. I will give you only three days to publicly apologize to Weston."

"Otherwise, watch Donald's funeral and your inauguration ceremony turn into a joke!"

With that, she grabbed Weston and turned to leave.

Eric walked to Raven's side and whispered, "That madwoman has no idea what you are capable of, my lord. Once that Red Wine made with the new method is sold, it will surely bring in a fortune!"

Raven smiled in reply. "No, it is not time yet."

Eric hesitated. "Then the money..."

"Money is not the problem. Her saying she will not give it does not mean I cannot take it." Leaving behind a bewildered Eric, Raven turned toward his Private Soldiers.

They had all heard the conversation. Each of them now wore a guilty expression, believing that they had dragged Raven down and caused him to lose a major source of funds.

"Enough. This is my family business. It has nothing to do with you!" Raven shouted. "If you truly feel sorry for me, then train properly and make yourselves look like real men!"

"Yes!" Gaul was the first to respond loudly, then he called out, "First squad, prepare for formation drills!"

Link followed immediately. "Second squad, come with me! Don't fall behind!"

"And the third squad—" Simon emerged from the corner of the corridor, his head wrapped in bandages. "Fall in and assemble!"

"You brat..." Raven walked over to Simon and lightly patted his shoulder. "Return to the ranks, but do not push yourself."

"Yes!" Simon straightened up and walked out of the hall in small steps.

Old Gordon came up behind Raven. "My lord, you are truly remarkable. In only ten days, they can already be called men willing to die for you."

"The army's morale is usable." Raven revealed a faint smile.

"Next, we will work for money!"