Lord: I Grind EXP with Warband Panel

"Sir Robson, you truly live up to your reputation as a veteran of the battlefield. It’s only been a few days, and you’ve already given me such a wonderful surprise." Viscount Luke said, his face breaking into a wide smile as he surveyed the "spoils of war" before him.

He really hadn’t expected Robson to make a new move so quickly.

Yesterday, Robson had dealt with the invading Centaurs and cleared the battlefield overnight.

The materials harvested from the Centaurs were all considered top-tier rarities in the Southern Kingdom.

Although some people would find it a bit unsettling, the quality of these materials was undeniably far superior to that of ordinary beasts.

After taking inventory, Robson quickly sent out two letters.

One was, naturally, a report for his superior: Sir Robson of Qimo Fortress, leading his men, had fought bravely and crushed a force of five thousand, composed mainly of Centaurs. The nobles of Qimo Fortress had fully demonstrated the Kingdom’s valiant and fearless knightly spirit.

Sir Robson’s men suffered heavy losses, with nearly all of his elite troops sustaining casualties.

This was, one could say, the charm of language. The so-called force of five thousand, mainly Centaurs, was in reality over two thousand Gnolls. Who truly constituted the main force was a rather blurry distinction, but phrasing it differently naturally changed the story.

A victory over Centaurs was certainly worth more military merit than one over Gnolls. Every little bit he could squeeze out mattered, as it all related to Lord Robson’s future fief.

As for all of Robson’s elites suffering losses, it made the battle sound incredibly fierce. In reality, only the elite troops had suffered any losses; the reserves had basically been spectators for the entire fight.

But it didn’t matter. Everyone understood these rhetorical tricks, and no one would nitpick about them. After all, everyone did it.

The fact that Robson hadn’t cut the Centaur corpses in half to inflate his numbers, claiming a phantom ten thousand kills, already made him a gentleman of considerable restraint.

With this military merit under his belt, Robson could speak with much more authority. Priests, Mages, packhorses for logistics, and especially winter coats for the soldiers. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

He could ask for them all.

He’d take advantage of the fact that his Count didn’t have a complex network of connections yet, ask her for more investment, and fleece her for what she was worth.

Especially the packhorses. When it was time to run in the future, whether it was called a "victorious advance to the rear" or a "strategic rout" would depend entirely on those animals ensuring his logistics.

After all, if the Siriel Defense Line were to be breached, it wouldn’t be as simple as just retreating to the next one.

The second person he invited was, naturally, Viscount Luke.

After all, with so many goods, only Viscount Luke in Robson’s current circle could represent his family’s merchant guild and absorb it all directly.

Don’t be fooled by Robson’s illustrious military record, which made him seem rich and powerful. His daily expenses were currently a terrifying figure.

To say nothing of the meat supply for his troops.

Currently, the 2nd and 3rd Regiments had yet to be fully equipped.

The 1st Regiment’s reserves of Magic Arrows and Magic Shields were at rock bottom, the Magic Crystals for the Magic Crystal Cannons needed replenishing, and most importantly, for the strategic resource Divine Water, the entire fortress couldn’t scrape together more than a few bowls.

Viscount Luke was currently walking amidst these supplies, nodding from time to time.

Thanks to Robson, Viscount Luke’s life had been going quite well recently.

First, there was the deal with the Bear Race they had previously negotiated. Then came the slots for training soldiers, and the results of that experiment had far exceeded Viscount Luke’s imagination.

He had merely shown off the Cavalry Robson had trained for him and had already received more than enough orders.

People wanting to do business with him were already lined up into next year; you’d have to owe him a favor just for the chance to make a deal.

If not for everyone’s lack of confidence in the Siriel Defense Line, that timeline could have been pushed back even further.

He had thought his profits for the year had peaked, but he hadn’t expected that after just a few days back, Robson would deliver such a massive surprise.

"Viscount, how does the quality of this batch look? Care to name a price?

You know how it is. Everyone in Qimo Fortress, from top to bottom, is waiting for their next meal.

Especially the old veterans who’ve been with me. There’s no Divine Water in the fortress, nor are there enough Priests. Hearing the cries of the wounded every day is absolute torture for me.

We’re out of Magic Crystals for the Magic Crystal Cannons, too. Qimo Fortress is in a precarious state," Robson said with a sigh.

Viscount Luke realized that Robson had already laid out his asking price.

"Sir Robson, you are truly a man who worries for the nation and its people. For His Majesty the King, please believe me, I will do everything within my humble power to help," Viscount Luke said.

Hearing this, Robson felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

’Logically, these hides and furs definitely aren’t worth a Magic Crystal Cannon, but of course, one can’t look at it that way.’

’In any case, he’s not giving away his own property, after all. For Viscount Luke, this is half gift, half sale—his way of repaying the favor of me helping him make all that money.’

"Hearing you say that, Viscount, puts my mind at ease. You are truly a pillar of the Kingdom! If everyone were like you, how could we possibly fail to exterminate the Beastmen?" Robson said, laying on the flattery.

"It is all for His Majesty the King. Now, about these spoils..." Viscount Luke asked.

"Why be so formal with me, Viscount? I don’t see these as anything particularly valuable. Fifty Copper Coins to cover my men’s labor will be enough."

"Sir Robson, you are not one to haggle over petty profits. That is the mark of a man destined for great things."

"You’re too kind, too kind."

...

"How many of our kinsmen have we gathered?" At this moment, Daimon was a wretched sight, his armor and equipment having vanished without a trace.

Those nobles from Qimo Fortress had pursued him with a vengeance. If Daimon’s own men hadn’t trickled in to support him, and if they hadn’t already been so far from Qimo Fortress, he suspected that group would have chased him to the ends of the earth.

"Over five hundred, my lord. If we wait longer, perhaps more will come."

Daimon held his forehead and sighed. ’Just over five hundred...’

Last night, his entire army’s formation had been shattered, giving him no chance to regroup.

Even by the most optimistic estimate, he had lost at least forty percent of his forces.

And that was a low number, only achievable thanks to the cover of darkness and the Centaurs’ natural speed advantage.

After all, a horse is ultimately just a beast. In some situations, it certainly cannot compare to an intelligent being.

With such heavy losses this time, it went without saying that Prince Kase would not let him off the hook.

It wasn’t that the Prince would take his life, but his political future was likely over. He would have to go home and live out his days as a useless disgrace.

"General, the reinforcements have caught up. Do you wish to meet with them personally?" a messenger stepped forward and asked Daimon.

"That damned fox is here?" Daimon thought of his earlier boasts and naturally wanted to avoid a meeting.

The bigger his boasts had been back then, the harder the slap in the face felt now.

He figured that fox was probably laughing his head off, knowing his current state.

Just as he was about to refuse, Daimon suddenly remembered that his soldiers seemed to be out of rations. Even if they were retreating to the main camp, they couldn’t do it on an empty stomach, could they?

As an Extraordinary, it wouldn’t be a big problem for him, but his soldiers certainly wouldn’t stand for it.

Even if he, Daimon, was done with politics, he still had to protect his reputation. Such things were intangible, but you never knew when they might prove useful.

"Take me to them."