"Hahaha, Ryan, come on! This is mare’s milk brought all the way from the south. If it weren’t for the cold weather in the Northwind Province making it easy to preserve, you might not have gotten the chance to try it!"
Hatton eagerly poured the snow-white mare’s milk for Ryan. Several attractive maids stood nearby, obediently holding iron kettles.
Ryan accepted Hatton’s hospitality without hesitation—after all, it had been a long time since he had eaten such food.
What’s more, ever since becoming a knight, his appetite had increased dramatically—three to five times that of an average person.
It wasn’t just the food; even the beds in Baron Hatton’s territory were far softer than the hard planks back in the Frozen Wasteland. Ryan felt like he hadn’t slept in such comfort since arriving in this world.
"Soon, I’ll have my own."
Without any attachment to the soft bed, Ryan pushed open the door and headed to the soldiers’ training ground.
There, he saw the only knight in Baron Hatton’s domain—White Brynn.
A knight with a surname. Yes, his ancestors had been nobles, though the family had declined. White now served as the captain of Hatton’s knights, and likely hoped that Baron Hatton might one day grant him land to restore the glory of the Brynn family.
But Ryan didn’t think White would have such an opportunity—considering the state of Baron Hatton’s affairs, just holding onto his current lands was already worthy of historical recognition.
As for hoping he’d make something greater of himself?
Ryan glanced at the maids bustling back and forth in the distance and shook his head.
"Sir White, do you know how many soldiers Knight Watt has?"
"Greetings, Baron Ryan." Sir White respectfully gave a standard knight’s salute, seemingly flattered by Ryan’s mild tone.
Glancing at Brand standing silently behind Ryan, White responded:
"Knight Watt has a total of one hundred soldiers. Of them, twenty are squire knights; the rest are trained militia."
Ryan nodded and then asked:
He knew well that the number of soldiers a lord could raise was rarely as it appeared.
In times of war, lords would drag slaves onto the battlefield. After the battle, the survivors would return to the mines or farms.
A brutal pecking order of cannon fodder.
Of the hundred White mentioned, Ryan could already guess—besides the twenty squires, the eighty militia were probably only part-time fighters.
"One hundred capable soldiers," Ryan mused. Compared to Watt’s domain, Hatton’s barony was in much better shape—thanks to Baron Hatton having a good father.
"Baron Hatton’s territory has one hundred and twenty soldiers, all fully armored. Thirty of them are squires," White added with some pride—it was, after all, his own achievement.
Ryan didn’t quite get why he sounded so proud. Despite having the stronger force, he always ended up being bested by Knight Watt.
"Go wake Baron Hatton. It’s time for us to depart."
Eventually, Baron Hatton appeared before Ryan, yawning widely.
The two barons led the way, followed by a force of five to six hundred soldiers marching boldly toward the contested area between Hatton and Knight Watt.
A small iron mine. Though small, it had brought great profit to both the barony and the knight’s domain.
Riding a highland warhorse from the south, Ryan couldn’t help stroking its mane enviously.
Was a knight truly a knight without a mount? Was a noble still a noble without one?
Baron Hatton lacked many things, but not the ability to read people—a basic skill for any noble.
With pride, he patted his brown warhorse and said:
"Ryan, in Lingdu City where Viscount Miles resides, every spring, hundreds of highland warhorses are brought in from the south. If you’re interested, have your servant wait there for one."
"But," he added, "each warhorse is quite valuable—less than a few hundred gold coins won’t be enough."
In other words, Hatton couldn’t resist showing off his wealth. Ryan, hearing this, couldn’t help clicking his tongue.
A single warhorse in Northwind Province could sell for several hundred gold coins. Distance really did create value.
From what he remembered, a fully grown warhorse in the southern Empire sold for between several dozen to one hundred gold coins. Yet here at the Empire’s edge, the price had increased tenfold.
To his knowledge, Northwind Province didn’t produce horses—despite having plains.
The reason? Too cold.
Distance and harsh weather made horses expensive.
Because of that, even Baron Hatton’s domain only owned five of them.
Naturally, Ryan and Hatton weren’t going to travel on foot. Besides them, the other riders were Sir White and Hatton’s eldest son, Leon Hatton.
Leon was only a year or two younger than Ryan, but noble upbringing gave him a mature appearance. As he looked at Ryan, his eyes held a hint of envy.
There was a clear difference between a baron’s heir and a baron—especially since both of them still looked like teenagers.
The last warhorse was under Brand, Ryan’s knight protector—clearly the one most enamored with his mount. Interestingly, the warhorse seemed to enjoy Brand’s touch just as much.
Watching this, Hatton burst into laughter.
"Ryan, looks like you’ll need to prepare a fine steed for your knight!"
Ryan didn’t refute him. Instead, he began asking about Lingdu City.
He only knew that it was the city closest to both the Frozen Wasteland and Baron Hatton’s lands.
Viscount Miles was the lord of that city and also one of the seven governors of Northwind Province, governing Lingdu County.
The viscount’s domain spread outward from the city. In the entire county, besides Viscount Miles, there was another viscount, about seventeen or eighteen barons, and roughly the same number of knightly domains.
The Empire had a very simple administrative structure: Empire > Province > County > Town/Village. In the south, even the smallest towns were ruled by nobles. In addition to the formal administration, there were also privately held noble fiefdoms.
For example, the four dukes of the Empire all lived in their own ducal territories. Some earls, and even viscounts, did the same.
These noble fiefs weren’t part of the Empire’s official administrative system—they were like countries within the country. But one thing all such nobles shared was:
Confidence born of power.
For instance, Viscount Miles could collect taxes annually from Lingdu City—his territory’s economic lifeline.
This made the city incredibly valuable to the Miles family.
Some nobles dreamed of owning such a city to provide steady income. Others, confident in their own power, looked down on such cities as unnecessary.
Thinking of this, Ryan couldn’t help wondering:
"I wonder if Viscount Dragon of Lingdu County is the former... or the latter?"