HTLCCBFT Chapter 168

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 168

Unfortunately, Oliver, who had been forcibly put to sleep by the system, was destined to miss the Cat God’s cautious confessions this time.

This night’s sentimentality was but a fleeting moment for the perpetually busy lord.

Early the next morning, what met Jin’s worried golden eyes was the figure that had regained its energetic demeanor.

Seeing Oliver naturally throwing himself wholeheartedly into his work, the golden-haired deity who had been secretly observing nearby felt both relieved and somewhat disappointed.

Never mind.

He thought, as long as Oliver was happy.

Having previously conquered Albury city, Oliver had already accumulated some experience in internal affairs management. However, the fundamental situations of these two cities were completely different.

Albury had been suddenly attacked by rebels, with the original nobles and administrative class slaughtered overnight, and commoners scattered in flight.

After being ravaged throughout the winter by ruffians who had no intention of properly managing the territory, what remained was devastation and scarce resources.

Just completing the most basic reconstruction, catching up with the delayed spring planting, and restoring its damaged reputation in outsiders’ eyes had consumed enormous energy from Oliver.

Fortunately, there were the large quantities of supplies transported from the well-developed Laina.

Of course, all this was worthwhile: Albury, which had successfully established its initial reputation as the “city of Fine Wine” during the Spring Market, saw the substantial profits from its first batch of liquor sales alone covering the reconstruction costs. The next shipment for the Summer Market would represent the annual sales peak – certainly providing Laina with generous returns, mutually nourishing each other.

Gregor city was different.

Since the Albury army had entered this city in what could be called a peaceful manner, both farmland and urban areas had fortunately retained their original appearance.

People’s private property remained intact, various resources in the territory were undisturbed, and even the intimidating battle between both sides had lasted only a single night.

The people of Gregor would never have dreamed that the McKenna family, which had dominated this land for centuries, would exit so silently.

The change of rulers that should have been extremely bloody brought almost no disruption this time to the ordinary resident class, who typically had no means of resistance and always bore the heaviest losses.

Had they really changed lords?

If not for the unfamiliar but striking flag raised over the city walls along with the brilliant sunrise on the day the Albury army formally took possession, they could hardly believe it all.

Someone squinted, trying to identify the emblem on the distant flag, muttering: “Vines, roses, a sword, and………”

Pure white wings.

Corresponding to the beautiful title of “Angel Duke” that the old king had bestowed upon his beloved son.

After the first bell rang, the anxious slaves still obediently picked up their farming tools and came to the fields to await instructions.

As expected, the stewards responsible for them had all been replaced – until the loyalty, experience, and character of the original stewards could be fully verified, their duties were temporarily taken over by Albury soldiers.

Of course, they were no ordinary soldiers: all had experience directing Albury’s slaves in reclaiming wasteland, making their arrangements methodical and orderly.

Though Gregor city’s territory was larger, it wasn’t like Albury’s initial state of complete disarray. As Oliver put it, it had ‘remarkably high development’ and only required basic maintenance.

This was only natural.

That Spire could maintain Count McKenna’s extravagant hunting hobby—twice a year, each lasting at least a month—during these difficult times of widespread famine was proof enough of his exceptional management abilities.

As Oliver had observed during his inspection, Gregor not only possessed vast cultivated land but also utilized it efficiently. The crop distribution was rational too, unlike Laina’s previous haphazard planting, having properly considered intercropping, succession planting, and symbiotic relationships.

Naturally, from Oliver’s perspective, it was merely passable. But comparing his wealth of knowledge from future eras with farmers who could only rely on their own experience was undoubtedly unfair.

Oliver was pleased by this: it meant he didn’t need to start from scratch, racing to complete massive projects before autumn arrived—having Farmur and others fill in the gaps appropriately would suffice.

Beyond the farmland, the townspeople’s daily routines remained well-preserved, and the workload for maintaining public order was far lighter than many imagined.

Spire and his team deserved full credit for this. When the castle’s former servants saw that the leader among those sincerely pledging allegiance to the Angel Duke was ex-butler Spire—who had managed Gregor city’s affairs for over twenty years and knew the territory better than its original lord Gride—they quickly stabilized as if finding their spiritual anchor, obediently accepting new assignments.

Even before passing Fosse’s lengthy and stringent vetting process, when his status remained that of a captive with no personal freedom, Spire never approached his work perfunctorily. Instead, he demonstrated unprecedented diligence and dedication.

“Can you feel it?” a common footman whispered to a female kitchen assistant he was close to in this subtle atmosphere: “The aura around Mr. Spire feels completely different from before.”

The more perceptive one was, the clearer they could sense the transformation in Spire’s spirit and demeanor.

He used to maintain an unsmiling, stern expression, meticulously completing every task—especially over the past two years, becoming particularly unapproachable and intimidating.

Now it was different.

Though he was a Baron, he had to follow behind Fosse daily, handling far more complicated matters than before… Yet he showed no resentment over such treatment.

Anyone could see that Mr. Spire was genuinely enjoying all of it.

“So strange,” the maid murmured, equally puzzled. “Mr. Spire’s loyalty to Lord McKenna was undoubtedly unquestionable.”

Indeed, Spire felt unprecedentedly lighthearted and cheerful.

Fulfilling his promises always brought him profound satisfaction.

On the day he knelt deeply and kowtowed, swearing allegiance to his new master, he had spoken these words himself—his abilities, his life, even his soul, from that moment on, belonged completely and entirely to Duke Oliver.

He was willing, wholeheartedly.

With Spire’s strong assistance, Fosse found it much easier to arrange various matters.

And Oliver was absolutely true to his word—since he had decided to take the blame for Spire’s killing of the captive Count McKenna, he bore it thoroughly and completely.

Among those present that day, originally there were only his Cat God and the two knight guards protecting him nearby. Later, although Fosse and Noel, two more who were in the know, joined them, they were people he could trust completely or control entirely.

Apart from those few who could be counted on one hand, this secret would be buried forever.

“To govern with love, or to govern with fear?”

This question, which had once perplexed Oliver, found a clear answer here.

The castle servants did not genuinely love Count McKenna, but they absolutely feared him.

They feared his unpredictability, his cruelty and cold-heartedness.

When the sword hanging over their heads was suddenly removed, rather than feeling anger or resentment over their former master’s death, they were more genuinely bewildered.

Faced with a new, relatively gentle shepherd dog, the docile flock, before even fully understanding their situation, automatically and consciously chose to follow his instructions.

In contrast, the very few individuals of higher status who had gained more benefits by serving McKenna—the more than twenty knights captured in this battle—showed much more dissatisfaction.

As for how to deal with them, Fosse’s suggestion was straightforward.

“Execute them secretly?”

Oliver was taken aback, looking at the butler who had proposed this without batting an eye, and shook his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Of course not.”

If he were to raise the executioner’s blade just because the knights were unwilling to sincerely submit to him…

He was not a bloodthirsty devil.

Nor was Fosse, of course.

The reason he proposed such a direct and bloody solution was purely because he stood firmly on the side of absolutely protecting Oliver’s interests and clearly saw the knights’ reluctance to submit, even their attempts to bargain.

He was not at all surprised by the young master’s resistance and smoothly changed his suggestion: “Then imprison them until death, or wait until their relatives send enough ransom.”

Oliver blinked, stared at Fosse’s calm expression for a moment, and suddenly laughed. “Fosse, this was your plan from the start, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Faced with the young master’s suspicion, Fosse, whose original intention had been exposed, remained composed and even praised with a hint of pride, “To see through it so easily—truly worthy of my most wise master, the most divinely favored messenger.”

Fosse knew that if he had directly suggested “imprisoning the knights until death or waiting for ransom,” the soft-hearted young master might have hesitated for a long time, even considering releasing those ungrateful captives without condition.

As long as it was within his ability, he would never allow enemies with the intent and capability to harm the young master to roam freely outside.

Even for a young master blessed with divine favor, the possibility of being harmed by ordinary people may seem negligible, but it remains a foreseeable danger—one he could never tolerate under any circumstances.

The young master would never agree to eliminate those potential threats. However, if one were to first propose executing them all, only to have the suggestion rejected, and then follow up by suggesting their permanent imprisonment… the young master would most likely consent.

The young master’s gentle kindness was enough to soften his heart completely, often even causing him anxiety and concern. Yet he remained resolute in protecting it.

This purity must never become a gap through which wicked enemies could attack the young master.

Oliver sighed helplessly as he watched the butler openly defending him while masterfully applying the so-called “broken windows theory.” Finally, he nodded and went along with the other’s words: “You’re right, Fosse. I must be cautious until everything stabilizes.”

The moment he spoke, Fosse’s mood visibly brightened—a change apparent to nearly everyone present.

“Your Grace, you needn’t regret the lost combat power,” said the former knight commander, who held both himself and others to exacting standards, now in excellent spirits. “Even if they were willing to pledge loyalty, with their mediocre qualifications and abilities, they would be entirely unworthy of serving by your side.”

Fosse genuinely believed this.

When the old king still lived, he doted excessively on his angelically beautiful and pure youngest son, periodically selecting elite guards from the royal palace to join Duke Oliver’s knight order.

It could be said that before the sudden coup, the largest and most outstanding knight order in the entire capital—no, in the entire kingdom—aside from the Sacred Knights who answered directly to the king, was the Duke’s Knight Order serving Oliver.

They were the most capable and purest-blooded protective force.

Had the old king not mysteriously fallen ill, leaving the Sacred Knights no time to react before Cameron stormed the palace with superior numbers and scattered them by force…

“None of that should have happened.”

Remembering the scenes of the young master being driven away and plundered, Fosse—who had always harbored resentment over this—closed his eyes and murmured to himself.

Fortunately.

His dearest young master had not become discouraged or given up on himself.

Beyond the celebrated beauty that had once captivated all, what now astonished everyone was his sacred, flawless, and radiant soul.

“I have already written your instructions in letters dispatched throughout the capital,” Fosse said, the corners of his usually tight-lipped mouth lifting slightly, revealing rare visible joy. “Please be patient for a while—we will surely receive replies soon.”

Fosse was absolutely certain.

From the moment they were forced to leave the young master’s side, the knights had clung to faint hopes, eagerly awaiting the day they could return to him. They would not hesitate or make excuses in the slightest.

The elite knights personally selected by the late king—those truly and absolutely loyal to the young master, who persevered through countless hardships—would soon reunite under the young master’s banner.

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TL Note: Sorry for the late update. I think I’m going to try doing batch updates once a week, so here’s a large batch for y’all. Reminder to support the original author if you’re able to!