Volume 5: The Path of the Lord

Chapter 1: Migration

A vast stream of people and vehicles formed an endless queue that stretched from the end of the main road ahead all the way to its far end. The neighing of horses and lowing of cows, mixed with children’s cries, the rolling sound of wheels, the coughing of the elderly, the cursing of women, and the shouts of men, created a harmonious yet complex symphony as it moved slowly forward along the road.

The sky was overcast, reflecting Kommer’s mood at the time. The excitement he had felt when he first gained over a hundred thousand subjects had long vanished, replaced by endless worries and anxiety. The endless queue before him was just a part of the first batch of immigrants heading to the Caucasus—a total of 150,000 people. It was impossible for them to set off all at once; neither the vehicles nor the logistical support along the way could handle such a large number of people, so they had to travel in several batches.

Kommer naturally became the leader of the first group of pioneers. Although he was not familiar with this route, as a lord, almost everyone relied on him. Fran was left behind to lead the second batch of refugees. Fortunately, his special status quickly won the trust of the refugees from the Duchy of Mellen, making it much easier for him to communicate with them. At least the people back home held great respect for this regiment commander who had been wounded and captured bravely in the Battle of Messenia. Though the war had ended in defeat and the kingdom had perished, it was not the fault of the brave soldiers. The simple villagers’ trust in Fran made him feel once again that not everything in life was gloomy.

Yet Kommer’s heart was indeed filled with gloom. He didn’t know how well Pupber and Hes had progressed with their preparations in the Caucasus during the month he had been away. When it became clear that the number of immigrants would reach 150,000, Kommer ordered the mercenaries’ guild in Versailles to send letters as quickly as possible, detailing the necessary preliminary preparations—food, basic housing, land, and various other aspects. Just thinking about it gave Kommer a headache. Such a large influx of people into the Caucasus, which had long been struggling due to a lack of population, might overwhelm the indigenous people. Kommer wasn’t sure what the outcome would be, but since they had already gone this far, there was no turning back—only the option to press on bravely.

The desolate autumn wind swept across the wilderness, lifting gusts of withered grass and fallen leaves, making one feel the approaching cold of winter. The winters in the northern part of the Land of Azure were harsh, especially those gloomy winds from the northern wastelands. Mortals simply could not live in the wild like the orcs; that was the difference. It was precisely this difference in physical constitution that forced the western nations of the Land of Azure to rely passively on numerous fortresses and robust defense systems for protection. Perhaps this was the result of nature’s creation of diversity. If the orcs possessed the wisdom and cunning of mortals, or if mortals had the strong physique and endurance of orcs, perhaps one race would have long become slaves to the other. Ko thought silently.

“Lord, it seems you’re preoccupied?” A voice beside him interrupted Ko’s thoughts. There was more than just Ko in the spacious carriage—alongside him was another man dressed like a gentleman. The middle-aged man sitting across from him appeared rather stern, with a square face and neatly trimmed mustaches. His thick brows and gray eyes, along with a protruding section in the middle of his nose, gave him an oddly dissonant appearance, as if healed from an injury. His dark robe had faded to a pale color, appearing somewhat shabby.

“Oh, Mr. Rese, I indeed am preoccupied. I didn’t expect you to notice.” Ko didn’t want to hide his worries. This gentlemanly middle-aged man was one of the few trustworthy people among the hundred thousand refugees who were about to migrate to his territory.

Rese came from the Duchy of Mellen and had known Fran since long ago. As a commoner by birth, he had served as a low-ranking judge and witnessed the brave resistance of Mellen’s soldiers in trying to defend against Messenia. However, due to the overwhelming disparity in strength, the warriors’ lives could not secure victory in the war. With the fall of Messenia, Rese fled south with his wife, children, and other refugees until they reached the southern border regions.

There was naturally no place in the quotas for the Netherlands, Media, and Naples for the Rese family. The tens of thousands of quotas had already been filled by nobles of all sizes and their relatives and acquaintances—exactly what Komer wanted. He only needed loyal servants in his territory, not noble scum. Although nobles might bring more money and wealth, between the two, Komer preferred to have a stable territory. Wealth could be created with hardworking hands, but a stable and obedient situation could not be bought with money, especially when the proportion of indigenous people in his territory was so small.

Fran played a significant role in turning Komer and Rese into friends who trusted each other. Rese greatly admired the character of this man who had once been a high-ranking officer in the Meilen Duchy’s infantry regiment, while Fran also admired this somewhat stern judge for his integrity and honesty. As a judge, he managed to stay pure amidst the similar corruption in bureaucratic institutions across countries, and even though he couldn’t be promoted, he still earned the respect and trust of ordinary people. Meilen’s high regard for Komer also directly influenced Rese’s perception of him. Coupled with Komer’s honesty in their subsequent encounters, the judge’s goodwill and trust in this trustworthy lord grew day by day.

“May I ask, my lord, if it’s convenient for you to tell me?” The middle-aged gentleman hesitated for a moment before speaking up.

Rese was filled with curiosity about this young lord before him. Although the Meilen Duchy was thousands of miles away from the Homer region of the Kingdom of Nicosia, it didn’t mean that Komer’s actions in Cyprus were unknown. By taking in 150,000 refugees at once, his name, along with that of the Caucasus, became highly famous among the people of Versailles and the refugees. Various stories about his past deeds also spread, either intentionally or unintentionally.

Although there was Fran’s firm guarantee, the initial rumors of Komer’s absurd behavior in the city of Cyprus still made Rese somewhat skeptical of this nobleman from a financier’s family. Fortunately, after several interactions, Komer’s witty yet not superficial, honest yet not rigid personality convinced Rese to accept Fran’s view—that those actions might have been mere youthful antics. Nowadays, diligent noble lords like him, who are capable of taking charge of a region and personally seeking opportunities for development in Versailles, seem quite rare. In front of Rese, Komer did not hide his original intention of going to Versailles, nor did he exaggerate the purpose of taking in refugees. This made Rese see Komer as an exception among nobles, possessing the virtue of honesty, which naturally earned him Rese’s respect.

“Mr. Rese, there’s no problem. What do you think these over a hundred thousand refugees will bring to the Caucasus if they enter all at once?” Komer asked, shrugging and raising his eyebrows.

The question seemed too broad, leaving Rese momentarily unsure how to answer. After some thought, he slowly replied, “My lord, do you fear that the arrival of these immigrants will bring trouble and instability to your territory?”

Their views on these people from afar already differed—Komer saw them as refugees, while Rese insisted they were immigrants who had entered legally with the approval of the Kingdom of Nicosia.

“Trouble is inevitable. To begin with, none of us, including me, were prepared to accommodate such a large number of people. The difference between thirty thousand and one hundred fifty thousand is enormous. Although I’ve sent messages back to my territory, I doubt the officials there can prepare all the necessary supplies for one hundred fifty thousand people.” Komer wasn’t exaggerating. Thirty thousand people were already at the limit for him, let alone one hundred fifty thousand. He couldn’t imagine how Pube could complete such a massive task in such a short time. He was even worried that by the time the first batch of refugees arrived, nothing would be prepared, and he wouldn’t know how to deal with it.

Reise could understand the lord’s bluntness. After all, such a large-scale migration without a detailed plan, throwing over a hundred thousand people’s fates into a distant and desolate borderland in just a few days, was undeniably hasty. But the harsh reality was before them: they had to set off quickly or stay in the northern wilderness waiting for the winter winds. At least the winters in the south weren’t so cold—perhaps that was why the refugees had no choice but to set out southward despite the difficulties.

Thinking of this, Reise grew worried. “Then, my lord, what are your plans?”

“Plans? What plans can there be? It’s impossible to satisfy everyone with 150,000 people. Fortunately, the winters in the Caucasus aren’t cold. Your tents in the north should suffice to get you through the winter there. Moreover, the Caucasus is full of forests and trees. If everyone is willing to make do, building simple wooden houses after arriving shouldn’t be too difficult. I just hope that Mr. Reise can help me explain things more to ease the refugees’ dissatisfaction.” After a moment’s thought, Komer voiced his true concern: “Also, I’d like to remind Mr. Reise that since the Caucasus is a remote area with wild indigenous people—many of whom are half-orcs—they are straightforward but hot-tempered and not very friendly toward mortals. I don’t want to see conflicts between the immigrants and the local natives. I hope Mr. Reise can help remind the immigrants to avoid escalating tensions with the locals.”

Reise nodded solemnly. “Please rest assured, my lord. The people from the Melen region are simple and kind-hearted. I believe they won’t clash with others. But I must remind you that there are descendants of half-elves in the city-state of Main. They’ve always had a poor relationship with the half-orcs. I think you should be extra careful.”

Komer nodded silently, feeling a headache. It was precisely because of the natural skill of the half-elf archers that he had been attracted to the refugees from Main. He hadn’t expected that the half-orcs among the indigenous people also had a long-standing feud with the half-elves. He didn’t know when these two groups had become enemies again.

“Mr. Reise, why do the half-elves and half-orcs get along so poorly? What’s the reason behind it?”

“I’m not quite sure of the exact reasons, but the nature goddess Minto, worshipped by half-elves, and the hunting goddess Artemis, worshipped by half-orcs, have been at each other’s throats since ancient times. I think that might be the root of the hostility between half-elves and half-orcs.” Rese wasn’t very familiar with the animosity between these races and only knew the general idea.

“Oh, racial hatred just because of some vague beliefs? That seems a bit excessive.” Someone spoke casually, not taking it seriously, but Komer’s dismissal of religious beliefs caught the attention of the middle-aged gentleman.

“Lord, it seems you don’t place much importance on religious beliefs?” Rese asked cautiously.

“No, no, Mr. Rese, you misunderstand. What I mean is that it seems absurd to be at odds with each other over stories that are nothing more than myths. This isn’t about personal beliefs. Whether it’s the Light Holy Church or other small sects that worship different gods, I treat them all equally. In this regard, my attitude isn’t different from that of the lords in other territories of the kingdom.” Realizing he might have said too much, Komer hurriedly explained.

As Komer led waves of refugees to Caucasus, Puber, who remained in Caucasus, became extremely excited and fervent.

“150,000? Good heavens, this is a huge deal. Hehe, I heard that Media, the Netherlands, and Naples are all wealthy cities and countries. I believe they’ll contribute a large sum of money to Caucasus because of these refugees. What a stroke of luck! It seems that guy Kafli will once again reap many benefits from Komer.” Puber danced around, reading the letters sent back by the mercenary guild, laughing heartily.

“But, Lord Treasurer, have you considered that we don’t have any conditions to accommodate so many immigrants? Where will they live? How will they make a living? Those half-orc slaves are already a huge problem for us. Now we’re to take in 150,000 more immigrants. What on earth is the lord thinking? Is he crazy?” Hes gasped in shock. 150,000 people! When Komer first proposed bringing in 30,000 immigrant laborers, he thought that was already the limit. He never expected the news to be 150,000. He couldn’t imagine how Caucasus could handle such a large population at the moment.

“Hehe, Mr. Hes, please don’t panic too much. The lord has made it clear in his letter that we don’t need to worry about food issues—he’s already arranged for supplies to be sent on their way, and they should arrive in the Caucasus soon. Well, it also states that this is the opinion of the kingdom’s central government, not his own decision. It seems our lord isn’t having much success on his trip to Versailles this time.” Pupber said with a grin, which worried Hes about his son possibly learning to speak in such a slick manner by following this guy.

“But even if the food problem is solved, what about other necessities? Housing? What about their future jobs?” Hes felt relieved that the food issue was the top concern—having food would at least prevent people from starving.

“Mr. Hes, please don’t overcomplicate things. There are plenty of trees and stones around the Caucasus. These immigrants aren’t nobles or dignitaries; they’re refugees driven out by the orcs, not honored guests invited by us. It’s already quite good for them to have simple wooden or stone houses to live in. The winters in the Caucasus are like spring compared to their homeland in the north. Aren’t those half-orcs who moved from the forests now legal residents of the Caucasus? They’ve already started building their own houses in the surrounding suburbs and making a living through labor—these are examples for those refugees. Getting citizenship in the Caucasus doesn’t mean they can live off others; they still need to work to make a living. And now, there are jobs available for them—logging, quarrying, building roads. These infrastructure projects can’t be done by just these few thousand people right now, but I think they can set a good example. Once the lord brings back those hundred thousand immigrants, an era of prosperity will begin for our Caucasus.” Pupber seemed indifferent, as if all difficulties were a piece of cake to him.

“Yes, Father. Mr. Puber is right. The lord has brought back refugees. Since they are refugees, I believe they won’t demand too much in terms of conditions. It’s unlikely for us in Caucasus to prepare everything for them in a short time. I think the lord is well aware of this.” The young man beside Hes said eagerly, “Caucasus has plenty of wasteland and forests. Now we’ve also discovered iron and coal mines, all of which require a large workforce to develop. 150,000 people may seem like a lot, but if spread out, in my opinion, it still isn’t enough. Our vast lands in Caucasus don’t even have a single city. Look at the surrounding areas—leaving Leon aside, just the Bosen Plain: its land area isn’t as large as ours, yet it has 600,000 people, with ports and cities. That’s what a true model of a homeland should be!”
“Nephton, how can Caucasus compare to the Bosen Plain? It’s the heartland of Homer’s region—flat lands, fertile soil, advanced irrigation, abundant food production. To the east lies the major port of Antwerp, and land transportation is also extremely convenient. Calling it paradise isn’t an exaggeration. If Caucasus could match even one percent of that place, that would be great.” Hes shook his head, looking disappointed. “Nephton, Rome wasn’t built in a day. Caucasus will never be able to catch up with a treasure land like the Bosen Plain.”
“Father, you can’t say that. Although the Bosen Plain is fertile and rich, the area from Ugru to Mardan in Caucasus is also flat land—only no one has ever cultivated it before. We just need to burn away the bushes and start farming. In less than two years, Caucasus could become self-sufficient in food. And to the south of Caucasus, there are iron and coal mines, which the Bosen Plain doesn’t have. If we can really extract them, things could change greatly!” Nephton was dissatisfied with his father’s pessimism and interrupted him rudely, frowning.
“Mr. Hes, please forgive my bluntness. Perhaps you’re right to some extent, but I think if we all adopt your attitude, our homeland, Caucasus, will never change. Do you really want Caucasus to remain this way forever?” Puber had successfully built a good personal relationship with Nephton over time. Both were full of youthful vigor and passion, but Nephton had more idealism, while Puber had gained depth from many setbacks.

Shaking his head with some helplessness, Hes, though he had accepted the idea that the ambitious new lord would make great strides in the Caucasus, did not think it would be an easy task. The geographical conditions of the Caucasus were different from those of other regions—barbarians in the south, pirates in the east, and the Great Marshes controlled by the jellyfish people in the west. The only viable route seemed to be the north. Under such circumstances, these two young men actually saw things so simply. Had his own ambitions truly been worn down by time, or were the young people simply too full of enthusiasm? Hes couldn’t decide for a moment.

Although the Caucasus was cool in late autumn, it seemed far from being cold, even sometimes giving off the vibe of late summer. The vast forests also entered their harvest season at this time, with animals becoming plump and strong—perfect for hunters. The clear autumn skies made it the ideal time to cut down trees for winter wood.

Since the lord’s departure, the people of the Caucasus had felt that every day brought changes, whether from Ugru to Matdan or from the Darman Pass to the southwestern corner of Bahomon. Especially around the town of Ugru, its residents noticed that many outsiders, after obtaining legal citizenship certificates from Hes and his son, the temporary administrators appointed during the lord’s absence, began to cultivate land and build houses in the fields on the outskirts of the town. They came from various places, but the majority were half-orcs living in the nearby mountainous areas.

Though the townspeople were skeptical about so many half-orcs suddenly appearing in the land, they remembered that there were already a considerable number of half-orcs among the indigenous population, and the Caucasus had always been a region of mixed races. After the representatives verified their legal identification documents, no one paid much attention to it anymore. After all, compared to the news coming from Versailles, this was hardly worth mentioning. The news that the lord would bring 150,000 immigrants to the Caucasus had spread throughout the region. No one knew what 150,000 immigrants would bring to the Caucasus, and everyone awaited that day with trepidation, unsure of the changes it would bring to their lives.