Dual Realm Exchange System

Damian’s next destination was an organization he had possessed very little reason to visit until now.

The Nobles Council.

Much like the Adventurer’s Guild, Trade and Commerce Guild or Mage Association, the Nobles Council maintained branches throughout Valoria wherever enough titled individuals gathered to justify one.

Its purpose was considerably narrower, dealing almost exclusively with matters surrounding nobility, noble households, succession, fiefs, retainers, disputes between titled families and the countless bureaucratic headaches produced whenever powerful people began attaching hereditary importance to their names.

The Rosewood Town branch stood within the administrative quarter, and Damian immediately noticed something amusing when his carriage stopped outside.

The building looked remarkably familiar.

While it wasn’t identical to the Mage Association, certainly, it was similar enough that the two could have been fraternal twins raised by different parents.

Both favored pale stone, high arched windows, broad entrance staircases and the same understated architectural insistence that whoever entered should remember this was an institution whose authority extended far beyond one frontier town.

The Nobles Council simply possessed fewer magical embellishments.

Damian understood why the moment he stepped inside.

Mages were everywhere.

Not every noble inside the hall wore Mage robes, but enough did that Damian would have believed he had accidentally entered another section of the Mage Association if not for the occasional armored Fighter, richly dressed merchant or elderly administrator moving between them.

That revealed an uncomfortable truth about Valorian nobility.

The Mage Association and Nobles Council did not truly exist on equal footing.

The Mage Association possessed a faintly superior relationship with the latter simply because almost every sufficiently powerful Mage became a noble, whereas plenty of nobles were not Mages at all.

More importantly, one organization backed its authority with tangible supernatural power.

When the Mage Association announced that someone had violated Association law, there were Journeymen, Adepts, Masters and things Damian had yet to properly understand capable of personally enforcing the decision.

The Nobles Council relied more heavily upon courts, bureaucracy, noble law and political consequences.

Those mechanisms worked perfectly well against ordinary citizens and weaker nobles.

Against powerful Journeymen and above?

Paper became significantly less persuasive when the person receiving the judgment could throw a Fireball through the courthouse.

That was precisely why the Nobles Council maintained such a close relationship with the Mage Association.

Political authority required someone powerful enough to make refusal inconvenient.

Damian had barely crossed the entrance before an attendant noticed his Journeyman Mage robe and Mage Guild Ring.

Then she noticed the noble insignia identifying him as a Baron of Magic.

Her posture immediately straightened.

”Baron Baines, welcome to the Rosewood Town Nobles Council. How may we assist you today?” the neatly dressed middle-aged woman greeted warmly.

Obviously, there were no suspicious glances, no subtle contempt because he looked young, nor any tedious scene where some arrogant noble heir needed to discover that the protagonist was secretly important.

Damian could get used to civilization!

”I’d like information about recruiting retainers under my noble title,” Damian explained.

The woman’s expression brightened further.

”Certainly. Please follow me.”

Damian received tea, a private consultation room and an administrator within several minutes.

The treatment bordered upon fawning without becoming embarrassing.

Apparently, being a Journeyman Mage and Baron of Magic carried significantly more weight inside an institution where most members understood exactly what those titles represented.

Damian settled into a comfortable chair across from the administrator assigned to him, an older Human man with neatly combed silver hair and a dark blue formal coat.

”My name is Harold. I oversee household registrations and retainer affairs for this branch. I understand Baron Baines wishes to expand his household?” Harold asked professionally.

”That’s right. Specifically, I need people who can serve as long-term subordinates rather than ordinary employees,” Damian clarified.

That distinction was important.

Damian could have visited the Adventurer’s Guild and tried hiring Marcus, Owen, Lena, Clara or some other established team.

But Adventurers were fundamentally independent.

That was the entire attraction of the profession.

They accepted quests they wanted, refused those they disliked, joined parties temporarily and walked away whenever the arrangement stopped benefiting them.

Mercenaries were hardly better.

They might offer longer contracts, but a mercenary who served Damian because he paid twenty Silver could eventually serve Damian’s enemy because they paid forty.

Random Commoners avoided that issue, but recreated Kellan’s problem.

Damian would need months or years to train them into usefulness.

The Mage Association possessed powerful candidates, yet approaching it to recruit household servants and personal subordinates felt inappropriate when the Association already maintained an entire noble institution designed for exactly that purpose.

And slave markets?

No.

Damian still wasn’t touching those.

That left noble retainers.

Harold nodded in understanding. ”Then retainership is indeed likely the arrangement you seek. Employment, commissioned service and retainership are treated very differently under noble law.”

”What exactly does becoming a retainer entail here?” Damian questioned.

”A great deal more than employment. A recognized retainer binds themselves to a noble household as an extension of that family. Depending upon the circumstances, they may serve as knights, guards, mages, seneschals, butlers, advisors, confidants, household administrators or specialists. Their individual duties vary, but the allegiance itself does not.”

That was precisely what Damian wanted.

Retainers were not comparable to his Guest Elder relationship with the Evergreen Sect.

Damian was technically attached to Evergreen, enjoyed authority and benefits, and maintained obligations toward the Sect, but neither side pretended he had ceased being independent.

A true noble retainer was different because they effectively joined the family permanently.

It was not the same as connection by blood, but was close enough that Valorian law treated the relationship as only one degree removed.

They took the noble surname, entered the household registry and swore permanent allegiance to the family rather than merely signing a temporary service agreement, so walking away was not as simple as resigning from a job.

Damian leaned back.

This was perhaps the strongest arrangement he could comfortably use without crossing into magical enslavement.

”How many can I take?”

”As a Baron, your lawful household supports ten recognized retainers,” Harold answered.

Damian immediately began calculating.

Ten, huh? That wasn’t too bad.

Harold glanced at a document. ”Though, I must make you aware that you presently possess only nine vacancies. Kellan Baines has already been registered as your first retainer following the declaration and acceptance recorded after the Otter Village incident.”

Damian paused and raised an eyebrow. ”Kellan Baines?”

”Yes.”

A strange smile slowly appeared across Damian’s face.

So the brat had acquired his surname already.

Damian suddenly pictured Garrick standing beside the Otter Village training field, probably complaining that his grandson’s stance was terrible while secretly looking proud enough to explode.

”Old man, your brat actually climbed higher than you did,” Damian murmured under his breath.

Garrick had spent his life as a respected village warrior.

Kellan, through an extraordinarily cruel sequence of circumstances, had now become a pseudo-noble attached directly to a Baron.

Damian wished the old man had lived long enough to see it.

Then another question occurred to him.

”What about the seven children living under my household?”

”They are registered as wards and household servants beneath the Baines Noble Family, but not retainers. They consume no retainer positions.”

Perfect.

Damian had nine spaces remaining.

Harold continued explaining, but Damian’s attention briefly shifted toward his own Character Sheet.

Titles had always possessed their own portion of Valoria’s System framework.

Now that Damian knew what to look for, another subordinate entry had indeed appeared beneath his noble authority.

[Kellan Baines].

Damian focused upon the name and a secondary interface unfolded naturally, revealing the teenager’s current location, physical condition, emotional state and complete Character Sheet.

Kellan was presently at the communal longhouse, healthy, excited, and, judging by his mood, almost certainly cultivating instead of doing whatever sensible morning activity Damian would have preferred.

”Of course he is.” Damian muttered with a roll of his eyes.

Harold paused. ”Baron Baines?”

Damian waved a hand with a snort. ”Nothing is wrong, Sir Harold. I just found that my new retainer is apparently discovering the joy of ignoring instructions.”

Harold smiled knowingly. ”The best retainers always do, as long as it’s in service to the family.”

Damian dismissed the display, realizing that this whole noble retainer thing was far more than ceremonial bureaucracy.

For the Valorian Overworld System to recognize retainers meant that this was embedded into the fundamental rules of the world.

That brought about another question.

”So these limits aren’t merely Noble Council regulations?”

”Certainly not. Retainer law falls under the divine authority of Woolson, God of Nobility. The Noble Councils administer what already exists within Valoria’s recognized noble framework.” Harold replied with faint amusement.

Damian stared speechlessly.

So there was actually a god specifically responsible for nobility?

Pfft, of course there was!

Damned fantasy worlds!

Then again, Woolson’s authority presented an important difference from Caurelia’s.

The Coinmaiden governed contracts through divine authority and worship whereas Woolson’s noble framework had become integrated directly into Valoria’s laws.

That was why noble titles appeared upon Character Sheets as well as why recognized retainers became visible through Damian’s title.

Whatever Woolson had originally created had been accepted by the world’s rules deeply enough that even the Nobles Council merely administered the result.

Damian liked that significantly more.

A deity might theoretically dislike him, but Valoria itself was considerably harder to bribe.

”So I have nine positions remaining, and I can choose applicants through the Council?” Damian asked succinctly.

”Correct. We maintain retainer registries containing everyone from Commoners seeking noble protection to trained specialists seeking advancement beneath an established household. You will find Standard Class holders among them as well.” Harold answered with a nod.

Though, there inevitably had to be a catch, right?

”Why would a capable Standard Class holder permanently attach themselves to somebody else instead of earning their own title?” Damian asked with puzzlement.

Harold smiled. ”A sensible question, Lord Baines. Usually, the reason is because they cannot.”

After all, some possessed Classes but lacked exceptional potential, some had reached progression bottlenecks they were unlikely to overcome alone, while others were refugees from destroyed territories, descendants of ruined noble families, impoverished knights, aging Adventurers or skilled individuals without the resources necessary to establish themselves independently.

Valoria rewarded strength, but that did not mean everyone possessing strength could become important.

If someone genuinely believed they could reach Journeyman, seize opportunities and obtain nobility through their own effort, permanently tying themselves to another household was a serious sacrifice.

The applicants willing to do it generally had reasons.

Damian nodded slowly.

Exactly the sort of people he needed to examine.

Before requesting the registry, however, another thought surfaced.

”How does advancement in noble rank work?”

Harold’s expression became slightly more formal.

”The conventional hierarchy begins with Baron. A Baron may possess ten retainers and is normally entitled to a fief consisting of one fort and ten villages.”

Damian nearly interrupted at the word fort, but Harold continued.

”A Viscount may possess twenty retainers, one fortress, one town and fifteen villages. Rosewood Town itself falls under Viscount James Rutger, whose recognized territory includes Rosewood Town, Boar Village, Bison Village, Otter Village and twelve additional villages.”

That finally put Rosewood Town’s political structure into perspective.

Damian had been living inside another noble’s fief this entire time.

Harold continued.

”A Count may possess fifty retainers, one castle, two forts, five towns and thirty villages. An Earl may possess seventy retainers, one castle, one fortress, three forts, ten towns and fifty villages.”

The difference between Count and Earl was apparently very real in Valoria rather than the titles being treated interchangeably.

”Above them stands Duke. A Duke may possess one hundred retainers and authority corresponding to a ducal palace, five fortresses, ten forts, one city, thirty towns and one hundred villages.”

Damian whistled softly.

That was not nobility anymore, that was practically running a small country!

”And above Duke?”

”Royal titles. Their authority falls beyond the normal jurisdiction of Woolson’s noble hierarchy and the Nobles Councils. Kingship, imperial authority and equivalent sovereign positions function according to separate laws.”

Fair enough.

Damian tapped the armrest. ”So how do I become a Viscount?”

Harold gave him a peculiar look. ”Baron Baines, you have already chosen one of the most enviable advancement paths in Valoria.”

Damian raised an eyebrow and Harold elaborated what he meant.

”You have already advanced through the Mage Association.”

Hoh?

Harold folded his hands with a sincere expression. ”Viscount Rutger is a Viscount of the Rastia Kingdom, and his authority exists because the kingdom recognizes it. Another sovereign nation may extend courtesy toward that title, but it is not universally obligated to treat him as one of its own Viscounts.”

More importantly, James Rutger was subject to Rastia Kingdom.

His lands existed beneath Rastian law and his authority ultimately originated from the Crown.

If the Rastia Kingdom ever stripped him of his title through lawful means, his nobility could disappear with it.

Damian’s situation was fundamentally different.

A Baron of Magic was not a Baron of the Rastia Kingdom.

He was a Baron recognized through the Mage Association.

Every state respecting the Association’s international authority was consequently required to recognize that status.

”No king can simply revoke your title because he dislikes you. Only violations serious enough to invoke Mage Association discipline threaten Association nobility.” Harold explained.

Damian’s smile widened.

That was much better than he realized.

Territorial nobility also suffered another weakness... inheritance!

A powerful Count could die and leave everything to a son whose greatest achievement was successfully putting on trousers without assistance.

Mage Association nobility did not work that way, as it was purely power-based.

”A registered Journeyman Mage receives the standing of Baron whereas an Adept receives Viscount. A Master receives the Count title while Grandmasters or Neo-Legends receive ducal standing,” Harold explained.

Damian’s eyes sharpened.

So his noble progression was effectively attached to his Mage Class progression, huh?

”And inheritance?”

”Mage Association titles themselves are not hereditary because the authority represents personal magical power. However, if the titleholder dies while possessing a child who is already a registered Mage, that heir may inherit portions of the household authority and associated privileges depending upon their own rank and circumstances.”

Damian finally understood why Mage Association nobility inspired such envy.

It offered international recognition without chaining him to a particular kingdom, his title could not casually be confiscated by local politics, and advancement depended upon his own strength rather than land acquisitions or royal favor.

And as Damian’s Mage Class improved, his allowable household would expand naturally alongside him.

Wonderful!

More importantly, none of this required him to compromise the exact principle that had bothered him since yesterday.

A retainer entered service willingly and understood the permanence.

They received noble status, protection and resources in exchange for binding their future to the Baines Noble Family.

It was something between family and sworn service, reinforced by Valoria’s own recognized laws.

Damian leaned forward. ”Alright, Lord Harold.”

The administrator smiled as though he already knew what was coming.

”Show me the applicants!”