Anya Attacks Again!

Chapter 48: Anya Goes on the Offensive Again!

Now they truly needed time to rest and recuperate.

Although Duncan had led the British Legion to a string of major victories, Duke of Tintagel had first suffered a crushing defeat, then a minor one. Added to that were the two battles against Hengist and Horsa—hard-fought engagements against Saxon elite troops. The combined casualties were no small number.

But the most urgent matter was still demobilization. All the levied farmers, Town Militia, Auxiliary Legion, and the like were dismissed by Duncan in one sweep.

Land was allocated.

Everyone was sent to farm, reclaim land, and dig irrigation channels. City Hall would lend them money without interest and help procure tools for them. They were to get to work farming and pull Britain Island's near-collapsed economy back from the brink.

Back when the Empire ruled, Britain Island had been quite prosperous, with a population of over three million.

As for now, it was hard to say whether England even had a million people left. Under the constant raids of the Saxon Pirates, vast tracts of land had been abandoned, and at least a third of the population had died. Many villages had decayed until only a few dozen people remained. They had to make a serious push to revive the economy, or there would not even be enough surplus grain next year.

Under God's Eye View, Duncan discovered a new function on the projection interface. For instance, his current Southampton could actually display a simple town panel.

"Territory: Southampton (Large Port Town)."

"Roads: Muddy Roads (Road conditions are extremely poor)."

"Agricultural Level: Low (Crop rotation system; lacking canal irrigation)." [Improving agriculture requires recruiting relevant talent. Agricultural technologies of the current era include canal irrigation, feudal manors, and more.]

"Commercial Level: Low (The market is dilapidated, the port abandoned, and fishing underdeveloped)." [Relevant personnel: Anya is restoring commercial and economic activity.]

"Technological Level: Low (Outdated forging techniques, poor education, no engineering technology)." [Relevant talent must be recruited.]

"Environment: Extremely Poor (No drainage channels; household waste discarded at will)."

"Temple: Small Viking Sanctuary (Dedicated to Odin)."

Basically, all of Duncan's territories were in this state.

Duncan had been born into a farming people in his previous life.

How could he stand this?

How did these people farm? Could they not even handle canal irrigation properly?

It was not just one place like this. Nearly everywhere was the same: muddy roads, crop rotation, dying commerce, and no one capable of forging even a decent piece of equipment.

"This level of development is utterly terrible."

Duncan's first step was to raise agricultural output. All the disbanded troops were sent to farm, while the prisoners were put to labor digging canals. In just a few days, the entire territory was bustling with activity. He even paid out of his own pocket to lend money to those who received land, urging them to rush the spring plowing.

Duncan even developed a stretch of military farmland near Portchester Castle.

"With my current territory, supporting an army of three thousand is enough."

"But they all have to be professional soldiers."

Severus personally recruited Exiles from Gaul. There were already two groups, totaling roughly over a thousand able-bodied men. This batch was not directly allocated land. Instead, they cultivated the lord's land, but after ten years, they could gain ownership of land and receive the corresponding status of free citizens.

Want to speed up the process? Simple. Turn in more grain, spend money to buy it, hand over warhorses, or have family members join the army and earn military merit. As long as you beheaded a single armored soldier on the battlefield, it was nearly equivalent to ten years of backbreaking work.

For now, only the first batch of Exiles who had followed him received free citizen status and land from Duncan.

The reason was simple.

If you wanted to cling to a powerful patron, you had to do it early. Clegane had risen in one leap to become commander of the cavalry because he had seized the opportunity. The earlier someone followed Duncan, the richer the rewards they received.

Inside the Lord's Manor, Anya looked hesitant. She glanced at Duncan and asked, "Will those Saxons be given land as well?"

Duncan replied calmly, "Yes."

"Why wouldn't they be?"

Anya said cautiously, "I'm afraid the Britons will be dissatisfied if we give them land."

Duncan slowly rose to his feet, his gaze cold. "Anyone who is dissatisfied can come confront me."

"Since they have been incorporated, they are my subjects."

"In my eyes,"

"there are no Britons or Saxons. There are only loyal subjects who serve me."

Duncan overrode all objections. The Saxons were likewise allocated land and granted the corresponding status of free citizens.

But this applied only to those who had been incorporated or had earned merit. Many Saxon prisoners were still doing hard labor. To put it bluntly, anyone who remained disobedient would all be sent to repair Hadrian's Wall in the future.

Anya soon left.

Raven Queen Triss glanced at her and said softly, "Southampton worships a sanctuary of the Germanic Barbarians."

"Dorset worships the Avalon Sacrificial Stone."

"Both Cornwall and Wiltshire have churches of The Church."

"How do you plan to deal with the matter of faith?"

Duncan pondered for a moment before saying, "There is no need to worry about it for now. Let them believe in whoever they wish. The various sects and pantheons can compete by their own means. Whoever can attract believers will have them."

"We only need to keep the secular realm under control."

Freedom of religion.

Let Polytheism and Monotheism compete among themselves. Duncan had no intention of wading into that muddy water for the time being.

Nor could he destroy the Sanctuary of the Norse Gods to support the Avalon Faith. That might shake the morale of the barbarian Foreign Legion. Maintaining the status quo was best for now; in the end, proselytizing depended on their own methods.

Raven Queen Triss nodded slightly. "That works too."

"It won't easily provoke the hostility of the Ascetic Order."

If they suddenly destroyed the churches here, the Ascetic Order's experts from the European Continent might come calling.

Duncan had his own plans, but the time was not right yet.

Only when your fist was hard enough did you get a say!

Duncan rose to his feet. "Have Anya find a way to recruit some talented people from the Italian Peninsula. Doesn't she have an estate?"

"Are there any people skilled in farming?"

"These Britons are utter garbage. It's been so many years, yet they still haven't learned the Romans' farming techniques!"

What the hell was this?

Did they really just live off the weather every day?

They did not farm properly, did not develop commerce properly, and their towns did not even have decent drainage ditches. It had been centuries, yet across all of Britain Island, apart from the infrastructure the Empire had built around London back then, every other place was a complete, rundown mess.

No wonder the Romans looked down equally on every people in Europe!

The gap in civilization was simply enormous. It could be said that this place was even somewhat inferior to small Roman towns from before the Common Era.

Britain Island was at least five hundred years behind.

Bring in some technical retainers already!

Agricultural experts, armor craftsmen, master engineers, and the like—Duncan could never have too many. He could afford to support them.

Raven Queen Triss said softly, "That should not be a problem. I can also send people to recruit some talent."

Duncan nodded. "Get it done as soon as possible."

"Don't give up on the natives either. Have them learn more Roman techniques."

"Estate economies, grape cultivation—the Franks have learned them, haven't they? Why can't they? It's not as though they're missing a brain!"

Once he actually started managing things, there were countless matters demanding attention, and he had no idea where to begin.

Duncan realized that leading troops into battle suited him better. Domestic administration and economics truly involved endless trivial matters.

At the same time.

On the distant Italian Peninsula, certain rumors began spreading into the Empire's territory.

Inside a grand palace.

Under the watchful eyes of palace guards, a man who looked like a jester hurried into the hall. After passing through one gate after another, he entered the deepest part of the Roman imperial palace. Within one lavish hall, maids and female slaves dressed in thin garments stood all around, while enchanting beauties danced in the center. A group of nobles in Togas were drinking and making merry, and faint gasps and moans could even be heard from the rooms on either side of the hall.

Emperor of the Empire Valentinian III was fond of pleasure and debauchery. Essentially, it was Protector of the Realm Aetius who handled the affairs of state.

The close ministers around him were all wastrels devoted to indulgence. Even after the rise of Monotheism, they still preserved the Empire's early tradition of uninhibited banquets, merely concealing it a little better.

A starving camel was still bigger than a horse.

It could be said that as long as the Emperor of the Empire did not court death, and did not later murder Protector of the Realm Aetius, the Empire could still limp on for a while.

But there were no ifs. On one hand, Valentinian III was addicted to pleasure; on the other, he longed to prove himself.

"Your Majesty."

The jester-like man quietly approached the crowd of women, surrounded by a heavy scent of powder and perfume. The corruption and decadence among the Roman Empire's upper ranks were second to none, and their revelry was no less extravagant than a forest of meat and a pool of wine. Even in the Empire's early days, when a husband and wife shared a bed, seven or eight female slaves would attend beside them, fulfilling all manner of needs.

"Oh, it's Quintus."

Valentinian III pushed aside the female slave beside him and had a maid kneel at his feet. He said lazily, "You're back? Has anything interesting happened lately?"

Quintus glanced around. Going with the flow, he loosened his belt and pulled a female slave over. "Your Majesty."

"Aetius is forming an alliance with the Goths and Franks to resist the Hun army."

At the mention of Aetius, Valentinian III showed a trace of disgust. Protector of the Realm Aetius was both a loyal minister and a powerful one. The emperor could be said to hate him deeply, yet outwardly, he had no choice but to bow his head and show respect.

Seemingly noticing that Valentinian III did not like hearing that name, Quintus immediately changed the subject. "Hiss!"

"Some rumors have been circulating in Britannia lately."

"Your Majesty may be interested."

Sure enough, Valentinian III showed a hint of interest.

Very quickly, Quintus told Valentinian III what he had learned, then offered a suggestion. "Hasn't Your Majesty always wished to display your abilities before the Roman Populace?"

"There was no opportunity before, but now one has come."

Valentinian III's eyes lit up slightly as he asked, "What's your plan? Let's hear it."

Quintus shuddered, rose to straighten his clothes, then leaned close to the Emperor's ear and said, "Your Majesty. Although the Province of Britannia has now been abandoned, since Duncan managed to make a name for himself in that barbaric land..."

"Why not find an opportunity to appoint him Governor of the Province of Britannia?"

"He was born a Roman and is also your subject. If he truly manages to unify Britain Island, wouldn't that mean that, under your leadership, the Empire has restored its rule over the Province of Britannia?"

"We wouldn't need to give him any military funding."

"As long as we grant him a little legitimacy and arrange a few benefits for him, we might be able to win over an army loyal to you!"

Quintus continued, "I know a friend, Anya."

"She just sold her estate to me and seems to be planning to form an ocean-going fleet over in Britannia."

"She said Duncan needs craftsmen and people with technical expertise."

"We can provide all of that."

"As long as he remains nominally loyal to the Empire, Your Majesty will share in the credit for his achievements on Britain Island."

"More importantly..."

"Your Majesty will also have the chance to gain prestige within the army."

After hearing Quintus's words, Valentinian III's eyes shone brightly. He said excitedly, "Is that true?"

Quintus nodded. "Absolutely true."

Valentinian III pondered for a moment, then waved his hand grandly. "Give him everything! Not only can I provide him with craftsmen and talented personnel, I can also fund him with military supplies."

"As long as he can take the Province of Britannia!"

If the Empire nominally restored its rule over the Province of Britannia without having to govern it, station troops to protect it, and even gained an additional trading province, then he would certainly earn great prestige before the Roman citizens.

As for Duncan effectively becoming a Britannian lord, that did not matter. It had always been a poor, remote land anyway.

A change in framing.

The Empire had sent reinforcements to help recover the Province of Britannia, but those reinforcements consisted of Duncan alone.

Before, only the Duke of Tintagel acknowledged Duncan's status.

Now that he had made something of himself, the Emperor of the Empire was prepared to acknowledge him as well.

Watching the delighted Valentinian III, Quintus slipped a hand into his clothes and touched an estate contract.

He had already accomplished what Anya had asked of him.

It was only a pity that he had not even gotten to touch that peerlessly beautiful Roman noblewoman. Quintus had coveted her for a long time, but the woman's standards were far too high.

Beautiful women were all well and good, but he still preferred his career.