Chapter Thirty Eight
"There's no plan."
I said it with the kind of confidence usually reserved for people who have just accidentally set their own kitchen on fire. I didn't even look at Eatassh staring at me with expressions ranging from 'existential dread' to 'genuine brain failure' to 'Who the fuck did I decide to follow'?
Well, at least there are no likability drops.
I went back to sitting on the edge of my bed, my legs swinging back and forth, my heels making a rhythmic thud against the wood.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
"Huh?" Eatassh finally made a noise like a dying accordion.
His 10th Circle Swordmaster brain was currently trying to compute the logistics of an "invasion without a plan." It was clearly overheating. I could almost see the smoke coming out of his ears.
[Ping!]
[Host are you serious about this?]
Yeah. He's a maxed out swordmaster. I don't even think mercenaries are needed.
Knock. Knock.
"Open the door, Kaelen."
Clank.
The door flew open to reveal Vizen, who looked like he'd just run a marathon through a field of bees. His was clutching his chest as if his heart were trying to escape through his ribs.
"What happened, Vizen?"
"Your Grace," Oldie gasped, leaning against the doorframe for support. "The fashion designer... from Baron Vische's territory... he is here. Lady Elena and Lady Selia are currently in the drawing room. They are picking out clothes for the Young Miss. Your Grace, they are currently looking at the imported velvet."
"Oh, good. Tell them to get the matching hats too," I said with a dismissive wave. "And send the bill to my study."
I need to take a look around there anyway. I've been so busy being a competent lord that I haven't even checked out Veryon's office since I possessed this body.
Ugh! I hope he at least left a comfortable chair. Instead of selling it off and go gambling.
Vizen shifted his weight from one feet to another, clearly nervous. "If I may, Your Grace... how exactly are you going to pay for imported velvet? Those clothes cost more than a small village's annual tax revenue. We are still broke."
[Ding!]
[2 Million Gold Coins Have Been Awarded For Hiring Eatassh!]
[Buy the baby lots of clothes. She has suffered.]
You hit baby fever too?
[Ping!]
[Yeah.]
Don't worry. I was already planning on buying the entire catalogue.
"That's why I'm sending the bill to the Barony," I explained, looking at him like he was the stupid one.
I can't just tell them I have money. It will raise suspicions.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Before I could elaborate, Eatassh's veteran instincts flared up again.
"Your Grace, back to the point! How are we going to invade the Barony without a plan? We need formations! We need supply lines! We need a map with little wooden blocks on it!"
"YOU ARE INVADING THE BARONY JUST TO PAY FOR CLOTHES!?" Vizen screamed, his voice hitting a register that only dogs and very nervous cats could hear.
"YES! WITHOUT A PLAN! THANK YOU FOR FINALLY SHARING THE ABSURDITY OF THIS SITUATION WITH ME!" Eatassh hollered back. The legendary Mercenary King was now gesturing wildly at me, looking for a shred of sanity in the room.
My god! Why are they all so chaotic?
[Ping!]
[We are guessing Host must be feeling very humanly now.]
Sysi!
Vizen spun around to the other two jokers in room. "Kaelen and Lord Hans, please! What is going on? Why aren't you stopping him?"
"No idea," Hans said. He was currently leaning against the wall, meticulously cleaning his glasses with a piece of silk. He looked like he was about to take a nap.
"Yep," Kaelen added, nodding with a blank, happy expression that suggested there was absolutely nothing going on behind his eyes.
Wow... Did I break these two? Damn.
"WHY ARE YOU TWO SO UNBOTHERED!?" Vizen shrieked, his face turning a shade of purple that probably matched the velvet we apparently couldn't afford.
"We have Your Grace," Hans said, giving a tiny, half-hearted shrug. "Calm down, Butler Vizen. Panic is bad for the digestion."
"Your Grace?" Vizen turned back to me, his hands shaking.
"What? Look, it's just a Barony belonging to a corrupt idiot," I said, hopping off the bed and landing with a soft thud. "I'm betting the state of things there is ten times worse than it is here. Plus, we have the Baron in our basement. If we just show up and tell them he's our new pet, they won't even fight. They'll probably be relieved they don't have to listen to his whining anymore."
"What if we encounter a variable?" Eatassh pressed, his brow furrowing.
"Nope. The chances are zero."
"Why do you think that, My Liege?"
"Because if he had a secret weapon or a 'variable,' he would have already killed me and taken over the Duchy," I said, counting the points on my fingers. "Think about it. We don't even have a standing army. We don't have knights. All they needed was a plan to lure Kaelen away with some sword so that they could kill Vizen and me. These people are budget-tier villains, Eatassh. They can't afford a surprise variable."
"But... what if the knights of the barony fight back? To protect Baron Vische's father and mother?"
"They won't," I sighed, walking over to pat Eatassh on the arm.
"Just take down Vische's parents first. They're old and fat considering Vische's size. Then, gather the knights and tell them I'm rehiring them. Unless they have a death wish and want to see what a 10th Circle Swordmaster and 5th Circle Potential Swordmaster looks like when they're angry, they'll just sign the contracts and help you pack the silver."
Kaelen blinked, finally processing only one piece of information. "You're not coming, Master?"
"No. I have something to do."
"Then who is going to command the knight order, My Liege?" Eatassh asked, looking around the room as if a general might fall out of the ceiling.
"Guys. Chill. We are not going on a grand campaign. This isn't a territorial war. You don't have to murder anyone. Take four mercenaries... Only four, the ones who look the meanest and go. You three and going to command the knight order. Capture the parents, tell the staff they work for me now, find my money, and grab anything that looks expensive or important. Then just come back. It's a day trip."
Eatassh stared at me, his mouth hanging slightly open. "My Liege, are you truly—"
"Okay, Master!" Kaelen shouted, suddenly vibrating with excitement at the prospect of a "shopping trip" that involved swords.
"Got it, Your Grace. Do we leave now?" Hans asked, already tucking his notebook into his pocket with the efficiency of a man who had a dinner reservation.
Pfft. I have really influenced them.
"Trust me, Eatassh. Let the rest of your mercenaries stay here and help with the building. We need their big, beefy arms for hauling ice, not for scaring Barony's housemaids."
"Understood, My Liege," Eatassh whispered. He looked like he was going through the five stages of grief and had finally settled on "exhausted acceptance."
"You all can go now. Shoo! Vizen, take me to the study."
"Yes, Your Grace," Vizen groaned, his soul visibly leaving his body as he turned toward the door.
"All the best, guys! Don't forget to bring back the good stationery! And if they have a nice rug, roll it up! Anything that's expensive and obviously money. Don't forget money."
"Yes, Master!"