Boundless Family Upgrades For The Deadbeat Lord

Raymond waited until well past midnight before using the ten tickets.

The castle had finally gone quiet, Lily had surrendered to sleep after threatening three clerks with rewritten ledgers, and even the guards outside Raymond’s private wing had been sent away under the excuse that he wanted several uninterrupted hours with the city plans.

He locked the doors to an unused underground storeroom, checked the adjoining corridor himself, then opened his inventory. After the lesson of the Winter Vanguard Package, he had no intention of allowing anyone to watch System rewards appear from nowhere.

Ten specialized civilian tickets waited beneath the military summons. Raymond selected all of them and confirmed the command. There was no light or thunder.

Ten strangers simply occupied the empty room where none had stood a heartbeat earlier, each dressed according to his or her profession, each carrying the calm awareness Raymond had come to expect from System summons.

Ten heads lowered toward him.

Raymond looked across them and smiled. ”Good. Before anybody asks, as far as the rest of Althoff is concerned, you were recruited through private House Althoff connections. We will work out the details before breakfast.”

The System provided their names and specialties as Raymond inspected them. Master Architect Lucan was a lean man in his late forties whose fingers were already tracing the cracks in the storeroom ceiling as if the building had personally offended him.

Civil Engineer Mara was broad-shouldered, practical, and carried measuring instruments in a leather case. Hydraulic Engineer Edric specialized in wells, drainage, canals, and urban water systems. Geological Surveyor Ormond understood mineral deposits, quarry selection, terrain, and resource mapping.

Master Metallurgist Roderic had the heavy hands of a lifelong smith but the knowledge to organize furnaces and large-scale metal production rather than merely forge individual tools.

Physician Selene was both a trained healer and medical administrator. Financial Administrator Alaric specialized in budgets, taxation, accounting, and public expenditure. Trade Specialist Ysabel understood markets, merchant agreements, tariffs, commercial law, and caravan trade.

Logistics Administrator Corvin specialized in warehouses, supply chains, transport, and large labor operations. Finally, Urban Planner Talia possessed the particularly unfortunate task of turning Raymond’s impossible city blueprint into something people could actually build.

Raymond did not mistake their competence for magic. He spent nearly two hours questioning them, and the answers made that clear. Lucan could design structures and supervise architects, but he could not produce stone from empty ground.

Mara could organize road construction, but without laborers, survey teams, tools, and materials, her expertise remained lines on parchment.

Edric could design a water network, but he needed accurate elevations and reliable water sources. Kael could identify promising quarry and mining locations, but he first had to survey them.

Roderic could establish better metal production, yet Althoff still needed ore, charcoal, furnaces, workers, and transport. The System had not handed Raymond ten people who could snap their fingers and build a city.

It had given him something more useful: ten people who knew how to prevent thousands of workers from wasting months doing things badly.

By the time Raymond finished, he was convinced he had found the missing layer between his blueprints and his population.

Before dawn, he settled on a cover story.

The ten specialists would be presented as professionals quietly recruited through old House Althoff contacts and brought in as part of Raymond’s spring development plans.

It was not his strongest lie, but it did not need to survive a royal investigation; it only needed to explain why ten capable strangers were suddenly being introduced to Althoff’s leadership.

Raymond had already produced agricultural specialists, livestock, equipment, and other resources under equally convenient explanations.

At this point, his people had largely accepted that their lord possessed connections he preferred not to explain. Raymond privately suspected the growing belief that he was a Divine Emissary did half the work for him.

Whenever something made too little sense, people apparently solved the problem by assuming the Goddess of Life was involved. He had created that particular monster himself, so complaining about it would have been hypocritical.

Several hours later, the development council reconvened. Raymond introduced the specialists without mentioning anything remotely related to tickets, summons, or the System.

Torren’s initial suspicion disappeared the moment Lucan began asking him about local timber dimensions, masonry practices, available cranes, lime production, and the number of experienced foremen among the refugee craftsmen.

Marianne immediately claimed Selene for a separate discussion about the medical operation, while Harlan and Gideon cornered Edric over irrigation.

Boris seemed most interested in Mara’s ability to design roads capable of moving military units and heavy wagons without collapsing into mud every spring.

Lily listened to Alaric explain accounting methods with such intense concentration that Raymond briefly felt sorry for every future clerk in Althoff.

Within half an hour, the room had divided into smaller conversations, and for the first time Raymond could see the beginnings of professional administration rather than a collection of competent people desperately covering whatever problem happened to be closest.

Yet one problem remained entirely his. While Alaric discussed expenditure records with Lily,

Raymond’s gaze drifted toward the House Althoff seal sitting beside the documents awaiting his signature.

The familiar crest carried the authority of Baron Raymond von Althoff, Lord of Althoff, exactly as it had since the original Raymond was sent north. Nobody in the room questioned it. Nobody had any reason to.

To Lily, Boris, Marianne, every citizen in town, and every official in Solaria, Raymond was still a Baron. The only thing claiming otherwise existed inside his head. He silently opened the Family Panel without changing his expression.

[ Family Grade: Tier II ]

[ System Noble Rank: Count ]

[ Political Recognition: Baron ]

Raymond stared at the last two lines, then closed the interface before anyone noticed his attention wandering.

The contradiction was more dangerous than it looked. The System had recognized House Althoff’s growth and elevated its internal noble grade, but Solaria had not.

A noble title was not simply a compliment someone awarded himself after accumulating enough land and soldiers. It existed within a political hierarchy backed by royal authority, inheritance law, privileges, obligations, taxation, and recognition from other nobles.

If Raymond suddenly began signing letters as Count Raymond von Althoff, questions would follow immediately. Who elevated him? Where was the royal decree? When had the Crown recognized Althoff as a County? Why had a disgraced Baron on the frontier decided he possessed the authority to promote himself?

Some rival could easily present the act as unlawful assumption of rank, and Raymond had no desire to discover how Solaria punished nobles accused of challenging royal authority.

Fortunately, nothing forced him to make that mistake. The System had already advanced House Althoff to Tier II. It had granted the rewards, expanded the territory it recognized, unlocked the Shop, and designated Althoff as a city regardless of what was written on Raymond’s royal documents.

He did not need to proclaim himself Count for those benefits to continue. Until he understood Solarian law and found a legitimate path to recognition, Baron was safer. Every external contract, decree, merchant agreement, land record, and official letter would continue to bear the title the Kingdom already recognized: Baron Raymond von Althoff, Lord of Althoff.

The Count title could remain exactly where it currently belonged, inside a magical interface nobody else could see.

Raymond almost laughed at the absurdity. He had somehow become a Count without acquiring the one thing Counts generally required: an officially recognized County.

The thought would have been amusing if the territory beneath that invisible title were not becoming very real.

Raymond looked around the meeting table again. More than five thousand people now depended on decisions made in this room. The System recognized fifteen hundred square kilometers under House Althoff.

He possessed a city development blueprint, three Gold Knights, dozens of Silver and Bronze Knights, hundreds of military equipment sets, agricultural land cards, infrastructure plans, money, System Points, specialists, livestock, food reserves, and access to a Shop capable of accelerating development beyond anything the old barony could have achieved naturally.

On paper, the resources were extraordinary. In practice, House Althoff still governed itself like the dying settlement Raymond had inherited.

Lily was ten years old and somehow responsible for enough records that grown clerks became nervous when she entered a room.

Marianne was officially the head maid yet spent her days coordinating medical care, housing, refugee intake, supplies, and whichever administrative crisis reached her first.

Boris commanded guards, trained recruits, organized patrols, managed security, and was now expected to help turn an improvised winter militia into a permanent military force.

Harlan and Gideon had begun as two starving farmers entrusted with fifteen hectares and were now discussing agricultural expansion for a population above five thousand.

Darric helped with military organization without a properly defined office. Edran handled hunters and reconnaissance largely because he was competent and somebody had needed to do it.

Torren supervised construction crews because Althoff had started building faster than anyone else could keep track. The entire territory functioned through personal responsibility, improvised authority, and Raymond repeatedly pointing at capable people whenever another problem appeared.

That had worked when Althoff contained twelve hundred starving citizens who barely had enough economic activity to require administration. It had even worked through winter because emergencies simplified authority.

Everyone knew what mattered when beasts were approaching the walls. Spring was different.

People were buying property, opening businesses, seeking work, claiming farmland, moving between settlements, registering families, transporting goods, signing contracts, reporting disputes, and asking for permissions that no formal office existed to issue.

The population would grow again. Trade would grow. Construction would grow. The military would grow. If every decision continued climbing toward Raymond, Lily, Marianne, or Boris, the territory would eventually bury its leadership beneath its own success.

Raymond waited until the smaller conversations around the table quieted, then stood and pulled the City Master Development Blueprint toward the center.

Several heads turned. He spread the plans flat, revealing the projected roads and districts surrounding the old settlement.

”There is something more important than deciding which road or warehouse we build first,” he said. ”We have spent months assigning work based on whoever happens to be capable of doing it. That kept people alive, but it is not going to keep working as Althoff grows.”

Boris leaned forward, while Marianne glanced toward Lily as if she already understood where Raymond was going.

Raymond rested both hands against the table. ”We’ve been treating Althoff like a large household because that’s what it used to be. Five thousand people isn’t a household.”

Lily looked up from her ledger. ”Then what is it?”

Raymond looked around the table.

”A government.”