"Do not worry about it," Adrian smiled. "I am just glad I found people who can actually stand by me during the tough times."

He looked over at the scarred Marquis.

"I can give you the training manual once I get back to my inn," Adrian told Draven. "I will have it written out for you."

"Do not worry about it right now," Draven waved his hand. "You can give it to me once you come up to my northern territory. That is when you are supposed to give it to me."

Draven smirked. "If I take it now, I am genuinely scared you will just hand it over and never actually visit my borders. And I want you up there, and I want you to fight alongside me. Because fighting back-to-back in a real fight against a common enemy... that is how true men bond with each other."

Adrian chuckled. "Of course I am going to come. Do not worry about it."

They relaxed in the water for a few minutes.

"So," Silas started another topic. "My territory is incredibly prosperous right now. We have multiple booming businesses. We produce rare dyes and export them across the continent, which brings in a massive amount of tax revenue."

Silas splashed some water over his shoulders.

"But here is the issue," the Duke sighed. "Everyone in my cities is so used to the peaceful, wealthy lifestyle that absolutely no one wants to join the military anymore. I cannot recruit fresh blood. My standing army is stuck at ten thousand men, and it is incredibly hard to grow it. I barely get a hundred new youths signing up every year."

Draven barked a harsh laugh.

"I get almost two thousand fresh recruits every single year," Draven grinned proudly.

But then the Marquis frowned, his scarred face looking suddenly very tired.

"But I also lose more than half of them every single year," Draven muttered.

Draven let out a heavy sigh that echoed in the bathhouse.

"We protect the northern borders, but we are not prosperous at all," Draven explained grimly. "All the monster drops we harvest... the fangs, the hide, the boness... we just sell it all off. And every single coin of profit goes directly back into buying fresh equipment and food for the people."

Draven scrubbed his face with his hands.

"There is literally nothing left over," Draven said. "All of my earnings just cycle back to the soldiers. There is barely anything left for my own family, and I still have to pay my mansion servants. Even though my family lives in a nice estate... our treasuries are completely empty."

Draven leaned his head back.

"This is the curse of being a border Marquis," he muttered. "All your money goes into healing your bleeding soldiers, funding recruitment, paying salaries, and feeding them. The expenses are so insanely high that it is impossible to actually save up any wealth."

"Other border Lords tax their common citizens heavily to counter the military costs," Draven added. "But I just do not feel comfortable doing that. I only raise taxes when my funds are critically low, and even then, it is only to make sure my soldiers do not starve."

Silas sighed heavily.

"I really wish I could help," Silas told his best friend. "But you are a stubborn, prideful idiot who refuses to take my money when I offer it to you."

"I do not need your dirty political money," Draven snorted. "You can take that snobby noble gold and stick it right up your ass. I only take money from real men. You are getting way too soft, Silas. Having kids ruined your edge."

Silas just laughed at the insult.

Adrian listened to the whole exchange quietly. His brain was already jumping on the logistics side.

"Wait," Adrian interrupted. "Can you tell me exactly how much of your budget goes into each category? Food, salaries, equipment, medical herbs... what is the exact breakdown?"

Draven looked confused, but he answered anyway.

"Food alone eats up fifty percent of my total earnings," Draven explained. "Around twenty percent goes into salaries. Another twenty percent goes into buying equipment for the new recruits and repairing damaged armor. We also buy a lot of arrows so that is also included in the equipment cost. And the final ten percent goes to buying medical herbs for the injured."

Adrian nodded slowly. "And what kind of monsters are you fighting exactly?"

Draven raised an eyebrow. "Why are you asking?"

"Just curious." Adrian said.

"We fight massive hordes," Draven said. "Goblins, Red Horned Boars, massive packs of rabid Dire Wolves, and huge Orcs."

Adrian grinned.

He knew all of those, especially the Red Horned Boar. It was the exact same monster Adrian had bought for a single silver coin back in the capital, simply because the meat was completely toxic and totally inedible to normal humans.

"I can fix your food budget." Adrian announced.

Draven froze. "What?"

"I can brew you a potion," Adrian said calmly. "You just take all that toxic monster meat you harvest from the battlefield... the boars, the wolves, the orcs... and you soak the raw meat directly in the liquid."

Adrian gestured with his hands.

"The liquid will completely dissolve and extract all the toxicity and poison from the flesh," Adrian said. "Then you just pull the meat out and cook it like normal beef. It will be perfectly safe to eat. You can feed your entire army using the monsters they just killed."

Draven stared at him like he was a god.

"When can you give this to me?" Draven demanded eagerly.

"When I come to your territory," Adrian smiled. "Give me a few weeks. I need to head back to Oresfall first, assign my people some new construction projects to keep them busy while I am gone, and then I will ride north."

"But," Adrian raised a finger. "I want the byproduct."

Draven blinked. "The byproduct?"

"When you soak the meat, all the extracted toxic substances will sink and pool at the bottom of the vats," Adrian explained. "It will come out in the form of a powder, which is highly toxic and I want you to send that powder back to me."