Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude

“What price must I offer for you to willingly… accept only the honor of a sword-bearing noble, while giving up the powers of one?”

Paul sat in his chair, eyes fixed on Bryce, gently swirling the wine glass in his right hand, calmly voicing this proposition.

His words were met with silence. The commander of the First Battalion opposite him seemed frozen, his eyes not moving an inch.

Tilting his head, Paul inquired curiously, “Bryce?”

“Count, I… I don’t understand what you mean?”

Finally, Bryce spoke, his voice surprisingly soft for his robust appearance.

“Literally what I said!” Paul replied without hesitation.

The restaurant remained silent. Bryce stared intently at the wine glass in Paul’s hand, lost in thought.

Frustrated, Paul was flooded with thoughts of regret, worry, and annoyance. Did he underestimate the traditional values of this era? Even someone like Bryce Ald, who didn’t care for personal gains, couldn’t escape convention.

What should be his next move?

Paul extended his left hand, “Bryce, listen to me! I…”

“Count!” Bryce interrupted, slamming his fists on the table, causing the dishes and cups to clatter loudly. Dressed in full armor, he exuded a formidable aura.

Bryce nearly shouted, “You think I prioritize my interests over loyalty to you, how disrespectful! Talking about a ‘price,’ how demeaning is that to our honor?”

Huh? Paul’s outstretched hand froze.

What was he saying?

“Bryce, I… I don’t understand what you mean?”

Paul asked softly.

“Literally what I said!” replied the commander of the First Battalion, without hesitation.

He continued, “You are the Lord of Alda, our liege. Whether or not to grant power is solely at your discretion. Why test my loyalty with ‘what price’ as if in your eyes I’m someone who values benefits over loyalty?”

His tone was severe, his face showing traces of anger.

Paul was taken aback, utterly incredulous!

Hearing Bryce’s words, was the matter resolved just like that? Was the process really that smooth?

He began to feel that he had worried unnecessarily. Why did he go to such lengths to arrange this dinner… ah, this meeting?

Shouldn’t the normal process involve the other party stating their price, followed by negotiation, until a compromise is reached?

After all, the title of a sword-bearing noble is highly coveted in this bloodline-centric era. For a non-noble, it’s an immense temptation. With one’s title and land, one can reign supreme behind closed doors, beyond anyone’s reach.

To give away something not even gold can buy without bargaining for a good price seemed… seemed… unspeakable.

“Crash!”

The sound of glass shattering broke the silence of the restaurant. Paul, in a fit of emotion, smashed his wine glass to pieces.

“Bang!” Bryce stood up suddenly, his face a mix of hurt and anger, yet seemingly resigned as he closed his eyes.

The sound of the restaurant door opening was heard. Sure enough, someone came in.

Alas… it still ended up like this…

Wait? But I already said what the Count wanted to hear, it shouldn’t be like this.

Thinking this, he reopened his eyes and looked towards the door.

“What happened here, gentlemen?”

Ah, it was the old butler, Mr. Philip.

The butler bowed his head, noticing the broken wine glass.

“Just a moment, I’ll get a new one.”

He turned to leave, and servants came in to clean up the shards.

“Really, too much drama…”

Bryce, with a sheepish expression, muttered to himself.

He looked at his lord, the Count, who was visibly excited. It turns out, the excitement caused the Count to smash the glass.

The Count apologized, “It was my mistake, suspecting a noble knight with a petty mind… But what did you mean by mentioning dramas?”

Bryce, awkwardly laughing and waving his hand, said, “Haha, it’s nothing, it’s nothing. As long as the Count doesn’t doubt my loyalty.”

With a crisp snap of his fingers, Paul declared, “Honest people must not be taken advantage of. Bring the map!”

The unfinished dishes were quickly cleared away, and a large map was spread on the dining table.

Bryce looked at the map, a preliminary version drawn based on information brought back by various survey teams.

The map, covering the counties of Alda, Baylding, and Emden, still had many imperfections and blank areas, but several important towns and the roads connecting them were already marked.

Thanks to advanced survey methods, its accuracy was a significant step up from the old maps drawn based on intuition and estimation.

Paul, holding a pencil — another of his ‘great inventions’ made of graphite and clay mixed in a certain proportion and wrapped in wood, allowing for writing and drawing on paper, unlike the permanent marks of traditional ink and quill pens — began circling and marking on the map.

The pencil, erasable with bread crumbs, had become popular among various groups like teachers, students, and military officers, who could now freely sketch on maps without worry.

Pausing, Paul loudly declared, “I’ve decided to grant you the title of Baron of Bayland Castle! You commanded the troops that besieged Bayland Castle during the Usurper War, so the title is well deserved!”

Bayland Castle, wasn’t that where Count Kent used to reside?

Granting a baron title with the residence of a count? Bryce was thrilled.

“Additionally,” Paul pointed on the map, “the five villages in the Bayland Castle region and all public farmland under the Administration Council’s management are yours.”

The so-called public farmland in Emden, formerly belonging to the Kent family, had been appropriated into the public treasury after the Usurper War.

“Really? Count?” Bryce asked excitedly. Familiar with the Bayland Castle area, he knew it was a vast territory. He was about to become a major landowner!

Paul confirmed, “Of course, it’s true! But… don’t forget what I said earlier.”

Bryce nodded vigorously, “Yes, yes! Count, I remember.”

Although he now owned the land, he still had to pay taxes and abide by laws. In essence, aside from the noble title, he was merely transitioning from a minor to a major landowner, still a subject under the Administration Council.

Gratefully, he knelt on one knee, “Thank you, Count, for your generosity. I and my descendants will remain loyal to you as always.”

Paul helped him up with a smile, “Keep up the good work! You’ll receive more in the future.”

As they sat back down, Paul said, “I’m sure you understand my ‘excessive’ request.”

He referred to not granting the ruling rights of a sword-bearing noble.

Remembering their earlier discussion about schools and talent, Bryce nodded seriously.

“There can be no independent kingdoms in my territory!” Paul clenched his fist, “To be honest with you, I find the current feudal system — with its layers of lords — terribly inefficient…”

“Hush!” Bryce gestured for silence, “Lord, such words shouldn’t be spoken in public.”

Paul whispered, “We’re just talking between us!”

Bryce asked worriedly, “Lord, I have a concern. I can accept this, but others might not. What if they become dissatisfied?”

Paul smirked mischievously, “That’s the second reason I invited you tonight.”

Bryce shivered at the Count’s mysterious smile.

Paul leaned in, whispering a plan into Bryce’s ear.

Bryce’s expression worsened as he listened.

Before Paul could finish, Bryce exclaimed, “No, no! Count, that’s absolutely unacceptable! Find someone else.”

Paul sternly said, “There’s no one more suitable than you! You must do this task!”

Bryce, almost in tears, pleaded, “Then give the title of Baron of Bayland Castle and its lands to someone else. I… I can’t bear it!”

“Silence!” Paul, angered, retorted, “As a lord, I cannot go back on my word. You must accept the gift and complete the task!”

After a mix of coaxing and threats from Paul, Bryce reluctantly accepted the order.

…

The commander of the First Battalion walked unsteadily through the corridor, reflecting on the scene after Paul smashed the glass. It seemed he had indeed worried too much.

Why would the Count be such a petty and ungracious person?

Baron of Bayland Castle and those vast fields… Bryce’s spirits soared, realizing his social status and wealth had skyrocketed that night.

But the thought of the task assigned by the Count brought a bitter taste to his mouth.