Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

”Miss Sera spoke the truth. Mr. Ron, you really are a considerate Lord to your subordinates. How could you just leave a companion behind?”

”I’m Ron. And you two are?”

Ron carefully sized up the pair—one old, one young, a master and his servant. Judging from the details of their attire, they likely came from wealth, but they weren’t as ostentatious as the members of the Bengsen Clan and wore no obvious adornments. The old man had calluses between his thumbs and forefingers, suggesting he’d been a tough customer in his youth. The young man, on the other hand, looked harmless, though the smell of alcohol wafted from him. Keeping up with Sera in a drinking contest was surely no easy task.

”Ivender Holt,” the young man said, shaking Ron’s hand politely. ”This is Mark. He’s served our family for over forty years and is like family to me.”

”I used to sail with the master’s fleet. I’m past my prime now, so I just do what I can,” Mark explained. He had noticed the Lord staring at his hands and knew exactly what had caught his attention.

”The Holt Clan?” After driving off Levi, Ron had taken the time to learn a little about Cloud Port, enough to know the names of its three great families. ”If you went to the trouble of getting Sera drunk just to get me over here to compensate you, you can forget it. I suggest you leave now, before this gets ugly for all of us.”

”You jest. We’re nothing like those upstarts from the Bengsen Clan.” Ivender’s expression was one of genuine contempt, confirming for Ron that the two families were indeed worlds apart. ”They started as nothing more than short-sighted, crude pirates. They may have come ashore now, but they still carry the stench.”

”We all know how that ended for them. But I assure you, I won’t be repeating their mistakes. After all, I didn’t use this method to bring you here to discuss family business. I have a personal request.”

Ron swept aside some of the empty bottles between them and leaned back in his chair. ”I’m all ears.”

”To tell you the truth, things have not gone well for me, neither in Cloud Port nor within my own family. I am my father’s second-to-last son. The glory and trials meant for the firstborn were never mine. Although I enjoyed a bit of affection for a time as the youngest son, that all vanished like a popped bubble when my little brother was born.” Ivender tried to pour Ron a drink, but when Ron refused, he gave a bitter smile and drained the dregs from his own cup.

”At first, that wasn’t such a big deal. I was still a member of the Holt Clan, after all. Even a fool in my family is a fool who dines from golden plates. But I was so young then, so very young,” Ivender said, gently stroking the scar on his face, his eyes filled with memory. ”The Holt Clan believes that ’the capable should lead.’ Even with an unfavorable birth order, someone with outstanding ability could still inherit the family business. I was too desperate to prove myself... and in the end, I lost what little I had.”

”I considered myself skilled in both pen and sword. So, during a conflict with the Bengsen Clan, I challenged their eldest son, Levi Bengsen, to a duel. I was utterly defeated, completely powerless to fight back. His Swift Sword left this scar on my face, one that can never be erased.”

”And here I thought you kept it on purpose,” Ron said, studying Ivender’s face. ”I’ve heard some people consider scars like that a symbol of honor and courage.”

”For a man who has fought only one duel in his entire life—and suffered a crushing defeat—there’s nothing honorable about it,” the scion of the Holt Clan sighed. ”Levi’s sword is called Scars, and the wounds it leaves behind cannot be erased.”

”These scars are destined to follow me through a life of failure. Because of them, I’ve lost all right to participate in family affairs. After all, how can a man who can’t even protect his own face be trusted to protect the family’s interests?”

”Just as I was agonizing over my situation, I heard news that you were establishing a new territory in Delusional Land. I thought perhaps... you might need help? That perhaps I could redeem my name?” Ivender looked up at Ron, his eyes full of hope.

”So you’re looking for a position with me?” Ron finally understood. ”But what can you do? So far, the only thing you seem to be good at is holding your liquor.”

”One’s tolerance for alcohol must be trained, and the best place to train is...” Ivender smiled. ”You must be short on people who can handle coordination and management. Please, believe me. As someone from one of the three great families of Cloud Port, I have the ability to coordinate all the moving parts and make this entire territory run in a more orderly fashion.”

”As for foreign relations, I can build a bridge between Cloud Port and the City-State Alliance, saving you the trouble of running around everywhere.” Ivender motioned for Mark to produce a thick stack of prepared plans. ”While waiting for an audience with you, Mark and I surveyed the area, made plans, and compiled a summary of the situation here. Please, take a look!”

Ron accepted the document, which was hundreds of pages thick. After reading just the first few pages, he was convinced that the young man from Cloud Port had poured an immense amount of effort into it. The text flowed smoothly, the handwriting was neat, the structure was clear, and his analysis of the territory’s current situation was incredibly insightful—Ivender indeed possessed considerable ability in this area.

”Though you currently have Miss Constance overseeing your administration, if I may be blunt, as the adopted daughter of a spice merchant, she lacks sufficient understanding of how to run a territory. And as for you, Mr. Ron... while you are capable of delegating tasks to experts—and while such a merit-based system is unlikely to cause major problems—the decentralization of power only adds to your own burden.”

Ivender glanced furtively at Ron’s expression. ”If I’m not mistaken, you don’t have complete control over Delusional Land yet, do you? If you were to lead a large group of people away again in the future, as you have now, how would the territory’s stability be maintained?”

”You need a person like that!”

Ivender’s words had indeed struck a nerve, hitting upon one of the territory’s key weaknesses. After their conversation in the tavern, Ron quickly made a decision. He introduced the young nobleman from Cloud Port to his other companions. However, as Ron still had reservations about Ivender’s true capabilities, he didn’t immediately place him in a position of great authority. Once Ivender proved his abilities, he would naturally be given more responsibilities.

During this time, the Bengsen Clan—also from Cloud Port, but far more troublesome—stirred up more trouble. They claimed two members of their caravan, a Dwarf and one of the Spotted Cat People, had gone missing. Levi Bengsen demanded that Delusional Land grant them the right to conduct a search. Ron, of course, would never agree to an action so likely to provoke an incident. Instead, he had them decisively expelled from the territory.

Besides, there was an entire Great Gobi Desert separating Cloud Port and Delusional Land. If the Bengsen Clan didn’t mind the long journey, they were welcome to wear themselves out traveling back and forth.