Chapter 10 : Chapter 10
Chapter 10. One Hundred Soldiers
Just when Eli felt as though he were about to suffocate beneath that gaze,
Lucius smiled at him.
Almost as a reflex, Eli gave a sharp nod, the movement so large it bordered on discourtesy.
“Lord Lucius!” Eli said respectfully.
The air in the room grew even heavier and more stagnant because of that silent exchange.
Fortunately, the suffocating stillness did not last long.
“Knight Eli.”
A clear voice, like a stone cast into a frozen lake, shattered the oppressive silence.
Seated in the place of honor, the young duke Constantine finally seemed unable to suppress his youthful nature any longer and leaned forward slightly.
Eli let out a quiet breath of relief.
He quickly shifted his gaze away from Lucius and turned to Constantine instead.
“I heard that every member of House Black has a special raven companion.
Are they different from ordinary crows? May I see yours?”
“Ah, well…”
A warm smile instantly appeared on Eli’s face, but his mind was racing.
The family’s ravens were one of House Black’s core secrets. Naturally, there was no way he could reveal anything about them to outsiders.
“As for differences… of course there are some.” Eli nodded solemnly.
Then, meeting Constantine’s increasingly curious gaze, he added,
“The biggest difference is this—our House Black ravens have firmer meat than ordinary crows, so they taste better when roasted!”
He spread his hands with a perfectly matter-of-fact expression.
“Pff—hahahahaha!”
After a brief moment of stunned silence, Constantine suddenly burst into bright, uninhibited laughter.
The laughter of a boy his age was infectious, and in an instant it blew away the last traces of chill and stagnation in the room.
Even Marquess Marcus, who had kept his face stern like an iron statue, had the corners of his mouth twitch violently twice.
“That is enough!”
Marcus’s voice returned to its usual hard-edged coldness.
He set the dip pen down heavily beside the ink bottle, then picked up the heavy steel seal engraved with the roaring golden lion—the symbol of the highest authority in the western frontier.
Thunk.
He stamped it down hard onto the red wax seal at the end of the document.
A clear lion emblem was instantly imprinted upon it, declaring the frontier contract officially in force.
“Take it!”
Marcus tossed the rolled document toward Eli with a casual flick.
Eli caught it steadily. It felt slightly heavy in his hand.
“Thank you, Marquess.”
He bowed slightly, but his gaze turned toward Lucius.
“In addition, since this is my first audience with His Highness Constantine, I have specially prepared a modest gift. I hope the young duke will be willing to accept it.”
He paused, then added, “And of course, I have also brought a small token of sincerity. I hope to exchange it for a little mutually beneficial cooperation with the western frontier.”
He kept his posture low, but the meaning in his words was perfectly clear.
And the final authority to decide clearly rested in Lucius’s hands.
Lucius gave the faintest nod.
The butler standing in the corner’s shadow immediately understood and withdrew without a sound.
Very soon, two sturdy attendants entered carrying two solid wooden chests of equal size, then gently set them down on the floor in front of Eli.
Everyone’s eyes focused on the chests.
Eli stepped forward and opened the first one.
The interior was lined with soft straw, and resting neatly on top were five bulging waterskins, sewn from high-quality leather and carefully sealed with wax at the stoppers.
“What is this?” Constantine leaned forward curiously.
Eli picked up one of the waterskins and gave it a light shake. A thick sloshing sound came from inside.
He pulled out the wax-sealed stopper, and at once a strange, sweet fragrance spread through the room.
“Blood Deer blood,” Eli said, his voice carrying clearly through the quiet chamber.
“And the finest quality at that. It was an accidental gain on my part, and there is very little of it.
I have heard that Your Highness the young duke has been diligently cultivating the path of knighthood.
This is quite beneficial for stimulating blood vitality, tempering the body, and stabilizing one’s battle aura foundation. It is only a small gesture of respect. I hope Your Highness will accept it.”
He extended the waterskin in Constantine’s direction.
“Blood Deer blood?!” Even Marquess Marcus’s breathing grew heavier.
This boy had actually managed to obtain something this rare? And he was willing to give it away so casually?
Though Constantine was still young, he had heard of how precious Blood Deer blood was. His small face immediately filled with delight and anticipation.
Eli smiled, then directly opened the second chest with crisp efficiency.
Inside were five more identical sealed leather waterskins.
“As for this,” Eli said, meeting Lucius’s and Marcus’s eyes calmly, “I would like to use it to make a trade.”
“A trade?” Marquess Marcus raised a thick brow, and the approval in his eyes swiftly turned into scrutiny.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Let us hear it. What do you want? Gold? Fine weapons and armor?”
Eli shook his head. “No, Marquess. I need people.
Slaves, knights, craftsmen—it does not matter. The more, the better.”
The moment he heard that, Marcus silently confirmed one thing in his heart: this boy truly had not come here merely to die.
His expression revealed nothing. “Boy, do you know what the western frontier lacks most right now? People!
Rebuilding the defensive lines, restoring production—what part of that does not require manpower? And you want people? You’ve got quite the appetite!”
He jabbed a rough finger forcefully into the air.
“Fifty! I can allocate you fifty soldiers with basic training! That is the limit!”
“One hundred and fifty.” Eli frowned and raised a finger of his own.
“Boy, that is not how bargaining works.” Marcus’s voice rose sharply.
“One hundred and fifty? What do you think this is, a sightseeing trip?”
“At most, eighty! Not one more! And they’ll only be militiamen! Don’t even think about being selective!”
“Then make it one hundred.” Eli had no intention of yielding either.
The negotiation was on the verge of deadlock.
“Grant him what he asked for.”
At some point, Lucius had already turned back toward the window, once more facing the gray, overcast world outside and leaving only his cold back to the room.
His voice was not loud, but it carried the unquestionable authority of final judgment.
“One hundred soldiers. Thirty craftsmen.” Lucius’s voice remained completely flat. He paused slightly, as though thinking something over.
“In addition, assign him five Black Iron Tier knights.
Consider it a trifling courtesy for the first Frontier Knight to reach Thorne City and to bring... sincerity.”
To Eli, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.
Marquess Marcus turned his head toward Lucius’s back. His mouth opened slightly.
But in the end, every word turned into a helpless and heavy sigh.
“As you wish... Sir Lucius.”
He picked up his pen again and swiftly began drafting the order of allocation on another sheet of parchment.
A great stone finally dropped from Eli’s heart, and the wild joy surging through him nearly burst from his chest.
He bowed deeply toward Lucius’s back.
“Thank you for Lord Lucius’s generosity. House Black will remember this in its heart.”
Very soon, Marcus finished writing the order, stamped it with the steel seal as well, and tossed it to Eli in bad temper.
“Take it! Go to the new recruit camp and the craftsmen’s camp outside the city when you have time and collect your people yourself!
Those five Black Iron Tier knights will report to you on their own!”
Eli accepted this second crucial document with great care, then offered his thanks once more in a solemn voice.
The ceremony was not yet over.
The butler stepped forward and quietly reminded him,
“Knight Eli, according to the customary practice of knightly investiture, a symbolic act of fealty toward one’s liege is required.”
Eli’s eyes narrowed slightly, but only for an instant before returning to normal.
“Of course.”
With that, he strode to the desk and, before Constantine, slowly bent his right knee and knelt on one knee according to the etiquette preserved in his memory.
Across from him, young Constantine’s face also grew serious as he did his best to imitate the way he remembered his father behaving.
He rose to his feet and drew a magnificently decorated ceremonial sword from the scabbard held by an attendant beside him.
Gripping the sword with both hands, Constantine looked a little nervous, but he still tried his best to hold the blade level.
He took a deep breath, then spoke in the voice of a youth trying his utmost to be solemn:
“Eli Black, I—Constantine La Roche—
hope that you will remain true to your frontier oath, protect the home you are about to establish, and add glory to the western frontier of the Kingdom of Orlando!”
As his words fell, he moved his wrist slightly and touched Eli’s left shoulder lightly with the blade.
“In the name of Orlando and the Lion Banner!”
Then the blade traced a bright silver arc and lightly touched Eli’s right shoulder.
“In the name of La Roche, I grant you the right of frontier development!”
The two crisp sounds of metal rang out with striking clarity in the silent chamber.
The ceremony was complete.
Eli raised his head and declared in a clear voice, “Eli Black will not fail in this duty!”
Constantine returned the sword to its scabbard, and a trace of relieved satisfaction appeared on his young face, along with the sense of accomplishment that came from completing an important “grown-up task.”
Eli rose to his feet and once more bowed deeply to the three great figures in the room who held the fate of the western frontier in their hands.
Then, at the silent butler’s gesture, he turned and left the duke’s office.
The heavy oak door closed behind him without a sound, sealing everything within.
Standing in the cold, empty corridor, Eli let out a long breath, expelling the stale tension that had been pressing against his chest.
He touched the two weighty documents inside his robes, feeling their reassuring heft.
At last, the corners of his mouth could no longer be restrained. They lifted into a true smile filled with ambition.
“Old fox.”