PS: Everyone still wants to see the main character's story, right? I'm well aware of that. It's just that the perspective is more conducive to telling the story.
Old World, Spring, Brittany, Earl of Glamorgan, Winery.
Laing sat behind his desk, wearing the standard noble attire of an earl. He was reading and correcting the last batch of spring plowing documents.
Spring plowing had always been the busiest time in the territory. The earl himself had to check on many things and make preparations. Otherwise, the year's harvest would be affected.
The order to enlist the freedmen was sent out, and the results were unimaginable. When the freedmen heard that the earl was going to enlist a gun squad, they all rushed to sign up.
Laing wasn't too surprised. The serfs' desire for promotion was even greater than the knights', especially when there was a knight promotion order.
Although the gunmen sounded like ordinary soldiers, they actually enjoyed a good status in the Empire. Many of them received training at the Nur Firearms Academy. When they returned to their hometowns after graduation, they were often warmly received by the local nobles and then hired as professional soldiers.
Every freedman's family sent their children to the earl's camp and recommended them to Laing.
In the end, Leon recruited about one hundred and eighty new recruits. These new recruits would be gathered and trained by the dwarf engineer, Dugan Ironman, until the dwarf engineer deemed them qualified.
Laing's heart ached when he thought about the cost of various kinds of ammunition. The bullets of a gun weren't like crossbows or arrows. Once they were fired, they would be gone. It was different from the Nur Firearms Academy. The students there had to pay for the ammunition themselves. For Laing, however, the freedmen in his territory couldn't afford it no matter how rich they were. He still had to pay for it himself.
This was a necessary expense. The earl could only pinch his nose and accept it.
Knock, knock. Someone knocked on the door. "Master?"
"Come in." Laing looked up from behind the pile of documents. His dark elf maid walked in with a tea tray and pastries.
There were only three people who dared to enter Laing's room without knocking. They were the Lake Fairy, his wife Suria, and the Lake Goddess Witch Morgiana.
Today, Olica wasn't wearing a maid attire, which was rather rare. Today, the dark elf was wearing a hollowed-out ivory dress with a simple pearl vase design. The fabric was tight around her chest, paired with black high heels and black stockings inlaid with gems. Apart from the headscarf on her head, it was almost impossible for anyone to associate her with a maid.
Since Emilia left, Suria's maid, Sylvia, had taken over the position of head maid for Laing. Unlike Emilia, Sylvia's management of the maid group was stricter and more inhumane. She also liked to express her opinions on Laing's daily life. Although Laing understood Sylvia's position, he still didn't like it.
Of course, the soft and delicate dark elf had won more space. Now, in addition to being Laing's maid, she was also the earl's secretary, helping him with his paperwork.
"Put it over there." Laing sighed softly and motioned for Olica to come over.
"Master, what's the matter?" The dark elf sat beside Laing and leaned on his shoulder. Her long black hair flowed down like a waterfall. Her amber eyes were filled with deep affection. "What do you need me to help you with?"
"Has there been any opposition to the establishment of a musket team in the territory recently?" Laing put down the quill and hugged the dark elf to his lap, deeply inhaling the fragrance of her hair.
"There are some, more or less," the dark elf whispered. "But you can rest assured, Master. None of them dare to directly oppose you. That's enough. In fact, I'm hoping that someone will take the initiative to oppose you. That way, you can directly make a move and …"
"Kill him?" Laing squinted. After spending so much time together, he understood the thinking circuit of the dark elves. This group of fellows who worshipped the God of Blood and Murder, Cain, had a very simple view of internal affairs. Either obey, or all sorts of assassinations, conspiracies, and bloody duels.
"Master, you're already so strong. Who would dare to duel you?" Olica said somewhat disapprovingly. "Since no one has the guts to oppose you, then I'll just ignore their opinions."
"Duels won't solve all problems." Laing complained. "This is a human, not a dark elf … For example, the high elves rarely solve the internal affairs of the court through duels, right?"
"That's because those stupid, cowardly fellows have lost the passion and martial spirit that the elves should have." Olica's face was full of disdain when talking about the high elves. "Arrogance and prejudice dominate the entire court of the high elves. There are always all kinds of political whirlpools and conspiracies. When the Duruzi are fighting bloody battles with the Chaos Demons on the front line, the two crybaby cousins, Azur and Aisley, won't get our pity at all. The true elven orthodoxy is in the Duruzi, in Nagaros! The last bit of inheritance of the high elves has long been cut off in the Battle of the Long Beard. "
The true elven orthodoxy is in the dark elves? There is no high elves after the Long Beard? The count felt that these words sounded familiar.
Clayon hugged the dark elf pillow that belonged only to him, and said with a smile, "I'm not interested in who is the orthodox elf. Whoever is, it's up to them. However, I've signed a covenant with Tigris. My dear Olica, I'm now allies with the High Elves. Don't cause trouble."
"Hmph, if master hadn't stopped me, I would have killed him." The dark elf snorted unhappily.
"You can deal with Tegris? I don't believe it. "Laing kissed Olica's delicate and smooth face.
"Don't underestimate me, master." The dark elf seemed to have no intention of arguing with Laing on this issue. She changed the topic. "So, master, what are you going to do about the gun team?"
"I won't give up the construction of the gun team just because there are objections." Laing expressed that he would not compromise on this point. The earl said in a low voice, "Now that my reforms have reached this stage, I can't give up no matter what."
The formation of the gun team was very likely to be the first time Laing challenged the existing order of the Knight King. In general, the knights didn't like to see serfs armed with guns. Even if Laing chose to choose from the freemen, it was inevitable that there would be objections.
So when they were discussing this matter, Gallan Witch Veronica suggested that Laing send this group of people to the Empire or Tyrell, and then hire them as mercenaries in the form of "export to sell in the domestic market" method. This way, they could avoid the opinions and criticisms of some people, just like when they hired the Ugor archers, under the name of the Ugor Circus.
On the other hand, Baron Deven Hex proposed another idea, which was to name the firearms team "Glamorgan Marines" instead of "Glamorgan Firearms Team".
Hex's suggestion was not unreasonable. The knight from the Duchy of Le-Angoulin clearly told Laing that Richard's Duchy of Le-Angoulin also had a gun team. As the Knight King, Richard of course knew that the gun team would be opposed by the conservative nobles, so he used the name of a navy. The Brittany navy was equipped with cannons and guns. As for why the navy would fight on land, the knight didn't know. The navy was really loyal to the country, abandoning their ships to fight on land to protect the country. This was a good thing, and should be rewarded!
In the end, the two suggestions were rejected by Laing.
Playing tricks and tricks was not what he wanted to do now. If it was in the past, his influence in Brittany was too weak, his background was insufficient, and he didn't have enough territory, army, and financial power. Playing tricks and exploiting loopholes to get things done could be considered as a last resort. But at this time, it was very meaningless.
After he came to the Knight King's Duchy, he almost single-handedly smashed a hole in the insurmountable gap between serfs and knights. At this time, if he still played tricks like this, it would be very degrading.
On the surface, conquering the Blackstone Stronghold and defeating the Grand Necromancer Heinrich Kaimler didn't seem to yield much. At most, he seized some money. Laing's territory didn't expand, and his title didn't rise. At first glance, it seemed like he was at a disadvantage.
Actually, that wasn't the case. The greatest significance of defeating Kemmler was the immense fame and the multiplication of his appeal.
The knights in the entire country now knew that it was the allied army formed by Laing and François that defeated Kaimler and his Ancient Tomb Army. They were the heroes of the kingdom and had contributed greatly to the defense of the kingdom. Without their sacrifice and hard work, the Ancient Tomb Army that had plagued the Grey Mountains for decades would not have been destroyed.
So in this matter, all the knights in the kingdom had to owe Laing a favor. At this time, if Laing stood out and said that he wanted to form an army of knights to attack Mu Xilon, he might be able to assemble an army of ten thousand knights within two months.
At this time, he should seize the opportunity to push forward his reforms and his plans. If he didn't officially announce the formation of the first official firearms squad in Brittany's history, when would he wait?
Was he really going to put himself in a trap and be bound by a decadent rule that had been formed for thousands of years?
If he didn't do it because someone objected, he might as well find a rope and hang himself as a human hero, a saint, and the Chosen of Gods champion of the Lake Fairy.
Thinking too far ahead, Laing hugged his personal maid and took advantage of the Dark Elf's beautiful black stockings. The count then asked, "Olica, do you want to go somewhere soon? The spring plowing is almost over. I don't have much to do after this, so we can go out together. After all, there won't be a war in the next one or two years. "
"Master, can you give me some time to think?" The Dark Elf leaned on Laing and said that she needed some time to think. Laing motioned for her to think slowly. He also wanted to hug her tenderly for a while.
At this time, there was a knock on the office door.
Knock, knock, knock!
"Are you there, Count?"
"Come in. What's the matter?" Laing had no choice but to let go of the Dark Elf. He could recognize Katzenberg's voice. The count motioned for the butler to come in.
"Duke of Bordero, Bodrick's men are outside the winery!" Katzenberg wore a pair of round sunglasses. He strode in with an anxious expression. "Duke Bodrick wants to see you for something urgent."
"Do you know what happened?" Laing frowned.
"The Poseidon's Trident was stolen by a group of rogue knights!" Duke of Bordero, Bodrick, appeared directly at the door of Laing's office. The Poseidon's expression was very serious. "Laing, I need your help!"
"Expedition to Estalia!"
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