The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 269: Things Will Soon Speed Up (2)

The Fenris territory had been recruiting soldiers on an ongoing basis, recently posting large-scale recruitment announcements. Yet, the enlistment rate was still slower than expected.

This was largely due to the perspective of the territory’s residents.

"Aren't we already pretty well-staffed with soldiers for a place like ours?"

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"Life's comfortable without joining the military."

"Why risk our lives when we don't have to?"

With steady work, people could earn a decent wage, and food was cheaper here than anywhere else. Once, essential supplies had been scarce, but with several trading companies bringing in goods in exchange for food, that was no longer the case.

Although the residents weren't living like nobles or the wealthy, those who had once lived in extreme poverty were now quite content with their current lives.

Crime was also under control, as all criminals were put into "labor battalions," keeping the peace at a reasonable level.

With the territory developing steadily, there was plenty of work to go around. Many people would work just enough to save up, then relax, only returning to work when they needed more money.

This complacency was exactly what was slowing down military recruitment.

"I hear soldiers get paid well, though."

"Sure, but it's still hard work. I'm good with what I have. Think back to how things used to be."

"Exactly, our homes are clean, and we're not starving. Why push for more? Besides, if a war breaks out, we'll be conscripted anyway."

With such attitudes prevailing, no matter how vast the territory or large the population, it was hard to quickly replenish the army.

Claude was becoming increasingly frustrated. The coming wars would require far more soldiers than they currently had, but the slow recruitment made him anxious.

"These people don’t understand the severity of the situation. We’ll be fighting Desmond and the Duke’s forces... Rayfold, too. We’re surrounded by enemies.”

The residents had no understanding of the political struggles and no clue about the foes they would soon face.

The only thing the people knew was that Ghislain was aligned with the royal faction, a fact that Claude had spread widely. The royal family’s support had also lessened the residents' fears.

Claude had taken advantage of his authority as the overseer to promote additional benefits for soldiers:

**[Fenris Territory Army Recruitment! Exemption from taxes during service! Full plate armor and the latest weapons provided free of charge!]**

The flyer featured an illustration of Claude pointing directly at the reader.

**[Brave warriors! Enlist to uphold the honor of defending our territory!]**

**[Join us on the battlefield! Glory and rewards await you!]**

**[The war begins with you!]**

The tax exemption had encouraged more volunteers, but it was still far below Ghislain’s goal. Ideally, they needed at least ten thousand soldiers, but at this rate, even years of recruiting would be insufficient.

Claude went to Ghislain with a suggestion.

"It seems we'll need to implement some level of forced conscription."

"First, get rid of that flyer with your face on it. I’m embarrassed every time I see it."

"...Understood."

"How’s the mandatory military training coming along?"

"It’s proceeding smoothly. Everyone expected it, after all."

The residents underwent basic military training for a few days each year in preparation for potential conscription, just like other territories. Ghislain had already started setting up proper training facilities to make the process more structured.

But these minimal training sessions weren't enough; they needed more fully trained soldiers for real warfare.

After pondering a moment, Ghislain smirked slyly at Claude.

"It’s because they’re living too comfortably that they’re not feeling the pressure. They don't even know who we’re up against."

"True. At least people aren't struggling with basic needs anymore."

"But they’re still far from living like wealthy commoners in other territories. Life here is still inconvenient in many ways."

"That’s the thing. Having lived with so little, they’re content with this much. Many of them used to be impoverished serfs or were heavily exploited. They’re just relieved to not have everything taken from them anymore."

"Exactly. So, we’ll need to add some tension. If they’re too comfortable, we’ll shake things up."

"...Have you decided to embrace the role of a tyrant lord? I must say, it does suit you. With that personality of yours, it’s amazing you haven’t—Aargh!"

Claude winced, rubbing his forehead where Ghislain had struck him with mana. He was irritated; after all, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Ghislain continued, watching Claude with amusement.

"Forceful conscription would lower morale. Our forces need to stay highly motivated to train seriously."

"So how do you plan to increase the tension?"

"I have a plan. Start spreading some alarming rumors."

If comfort was the problem, the solution was to fix it by creating discomfort. Ghislain’s grin turned even more mischievous.

* * *

"Count Desmond is planning to invade soon!"

"Isn't that the strongest territory in the north?"

"I heard they’ve already sent scouts to our land."

The residents began whispering anxiously whenever they gathered. The topic of conversation was the rumor that Desmond, the so-called strongest lord in the north, would soon attack.

The higher-ups in the territory had known about this threat for a while, but the residents, focused on the territory's development, hadn’t paid much attention. In the early days after taking over, the goal was to stabilize the territory, so they’d intentionally withheld the news.

Although there had been occasional rumors about war, most dismissed them as nonsense, thinking survival was more immediate. But now that they were hearing that war was imminent, they couldn’t ignore it.

"Isn't our lord with the royal faction? The royal family will protect us, right?"

"I heard Count Desmond is with the ducal faction. Don’t you know how powerful the Duke is? He’s a famous figure."

"What nonsense! The king is the most powerful; that’s why he’s the king! Do you not know what a king is, you idiot?"

"What did you say, you illiterate fool? Who are you calling stupid?"

As tensions rose, people began quarreling more often. Still, they tried to reassure themselves by remembering Ghislain’s past feats.

"Isn’t our lord supposed to be an exceptional fighter? Surely he’ll defend us well."

"Yeah, didn’t he defeat Count Cabaldi and take over this land without trouble?"

"Ha! Count Desmond is on a completely different level from Count Cabaldi. They don’t call him the strongest in the north for nothing."

Opinions began to diverge. Some were convinced that they’d lose if they fought, while others believed in Ghislain’s strength to defend them, leading to endless debates.

Despite this, many still thought they’d be safe.

That’s how people usually are. With peace all around, it was hard to imagine real danger.

Lowell, a spy, fanned the flames, spreading rumors nonstop to provoke anxiety. If they once hid the threat to keep the residents calm, now they were actively informing them to increase their awareness and vigilance.

"They say Desmond’s scouts have already been spotted near the territory!"

"There’s already been a skirmish! The lord barely drove them back!"

"That’s not even the worst part! They say northern lords are joining forces to seize our land!"

In reality, some northern lords had formed an alliance, though it was aimed at another target, not the Fenris territory. Lowell mixed truth with exaggeration to deliberately distort the rumors.

The residents grew increasingly uneasy, knowing that there was no place as comfortable as Fenris.

Anxiety and tension began to spread.

"I refuse to live like before, constantly losing everything. We need to protect what’s ours."

"I’m sick of starving. If another lord takes over, it’ll be back to hunger and poverty."

"I’ve only been working in construction; maybe I should join the army while I have the chance."

Able-bodied men started to volunteer for the military. While it left gaps in the workforce, the territory was populous enough to recruit replacements.

And in Fenris, soldiers could always be pulled into labor projects if needed, so there was no issue.

Even with the surge in enlistment, Ghislain still wasn’t satisfied. Too many residents were still hesitant.

"Not all of us have to go, do we?"

"Yeah. If there’s a real war, it’ll be dangerous."

"Maybe we should just wait to be conscripted. It’s safer that way."

There would always be people hoping others would do the fighting and make the sacrifices. They couldn’t be blamed; volunteering was a brave act, while staying back wasn’t necessarily cowardly.

But if the territory fell, those who chose not to fight would have to fend for themselves.

Then, as if to hurry the hesitant ones along, a new rumor began spreading.

"Raiders! Raiders have appeared!"

"What? Where? Aren’t there enough soldiers in our land to keep raiders away?"

"They say all the soldiers are focused on fending off other lords and can’t guard the territory properly!"

"Some villages have already been devastated! People lost everything, and refugees are everywhere!"

"What about the village militias? Didn’t they receive basic training?"

"They were either killed or fled! There weren’t enough stationed soldiers, so they had to retreat!"

The rumor of marauding raiders swept through the land, shocking the residents.

They’d thought peace would last forever. But they were mistaken. With the land so rich in food and iron, it was unlikely that others would leave it alone.

In a world where anything could be taken by force, nobles or bandits alike would be eyeing Fenris with hunger.

Everyone had to protect what was theirs

. Living under their lord’s secure protection, they had forgotten this truth.

As the rumor of raiders spread, the residents, now enlightened by fear, began to enlist in droves. The raiders themselves were growing more infamous by the day.

"Another village was hit! They’re running wild through the territory!"

"How many are there? Why aren’t our soldiers stopping them?"

"The raiders have over five hundred fighters! Small villages can’t fend them off, and people are fleeing to nearby fortresses and towns!"

"Who are these people? Have all the northern bandits united?"

"I don’t know! The rumor is they call themselves the ‘Raiders King of the North’!"

The so-called “Raider King of the North” stood atop a small hill, overlooking a village below with his face covered.

"Hey, this is the village we’re supposed to hit next, right?"

"Yes, my lord... uh, I mean, chief. What if someone overhears? We’re supposed to be bandits, remember?"

"...Understood."

The Raider King was none other than Ghislain. Standing beside him was Claude. They were leading forty knights in a mock raid on the village.

The five hundred bandits were just an inflated rumor. They kept their numbers small to avoid attracting unwanted attention.

Ghislain grinned and said to Claude, "Only when people believe it’s real do they feel the pressure. Have you noticed the tension rising lately?"

"...Yes."

‘You’re insane... What kind of lord raids his own land like this?’

Ghislain and his knights stormed into the village, looting food supplies. They didn’t actually kill anyone; whenever the village militia fought back, they simply knocked them out. The villagers would then scream and run.

Fenris was in the process of consolidating all its villages into central towns and fortresses anyway, so this was a chance to speed up the relocation.

To prevent villagers from trying to retrieve their belongings later, they refrained from burning anything. It required a surprising amount of finesse.

"Make sure the relocated villagers get new homes quickly, and compensate them for lost food and property."

"I’ve instructed the local administrators to prioritize that immediately."

"Good. They’ll be more determined if they feel valued."

Since the relocation plan had been underway, homes had already been prepared for the incoming population. The only issue was reimbursing them for lost food and property.

As a result, the people’s morale surged. Going through such an ordeal strengthened their resolve to defend the territory.

With the villages wrecked and actual refugees emerging, the rumors spread even faster.

"The nearby units have retreated, right?"

"Yes, they received orders to withdraw and focus solely on protecting the relocated villagers."

The stationed soldiers were instructed to retreat without a fight, though they didn’t understand why.

Ghislain, now the Raider King, turned to his knights.

"When the barbarians raided villages before, didn’t they yell something? What was it again?"

"They... um... yelled about killing the men and... violating the women...."

"Let’s not do that."

"Agreed. Honestly, it’s a bit embarrassing."

"Just shout something. Let’s go!"

“Woooooo!”

The Raider King and his forty bandits launched another assault on the village.