The soldiers’ praise erupted like a flock of squawking ducks, but Aegon paid it no mind.
What he wanted had never been flattery.
What he wanted was real, tangible fighting strength from this force.
For now, however, the situation could only be improved gradually.
At that moment, Aegon felt something and opened the holographic screen with a thought.
He tapped the exclamation mark in the upper-right corner, and a notification appeared before his eyes:
[Congratulations!
You have obtained the title — Cavalry Commander]
[Dominion +1]
[Reward Obtained: Character Recruitment Card ×3]
[Reward Obtained: C-Rank Charisma Fragment ×2 (2/5)]
Looking at the string of rewards, Aegon seemed to realize something.
As expected, the system had undergone some changes after becoming integrated with the real world.
Although I bought the position of Cavalry Commander, the soldiers didn’t recognize me at first.
As a ruler or leader, if you can’t bring benefits to your followers, you’ll gradually lose their support.
At the very least, you must never harm their interests, or sooner or later they’ll overthrow you.
Whether it’s a king making his people prosperous and secure, a general leading his soldiers to victory, or a merchant giving his workers decent wages, the underlying principle is actually the same.
Aegon pondered this quietly, and a realization gradually took shape in his mind.
He then examined the other rewards.
There wasn’t much to say about Dominion +1.
He would have to wait until his Dominion reached 10 before he could claim his first Dominion reward.
The Character Recruitment Cards, however, were worth examining.
Aegon opened the description of the reward and read:
[As a king, it is impossible to govern a kingdom through personal effort alone.
Recognizing people’s talents and assigning them appropriately is the true foundation.
Whether a minister shares your ideals or simply follows you personally, either can become a source of strength.]
[Note: After recruiting a follower, you may obtain one of that follower’s skills.]
In other words, the Character Recruitment Card was essentially a tool for building a reliable inner circle.
Or, more simply…
Recruiting subordinates.
Aegon looked toward the soldiers who were carefully folding up their debt contracts and putting them away.
Hmm…
I’ll pass for now.
Perhaps when he recruited more soldiers later, he would encounter the kind of talent he actually wanted.
The final reward was the Charisma Upgrade Fragments.
For a king or leader, having a respectable appearance was an important part of Charisma.
After all, no one wanted to follow someone who looked like a malformed turnip.
But appearance wasn’t everything.
Bearing, temperament, character, and ability were all important as well.
As a Targaryen, Aegon certainly had no complaints about his appearance.
But genuine ability was the biggest factor limiting his current Charisma.
Increasing his Charisma would significantly strengthen his ability to consolidate his power.
It would also make it easier for him to recruit talented people whenever he encountered them.
At present, he needed three more Charisma Fragments before his Charisma could reach Rank C.
That inevitably awakened a desire in him to “get promoted.”
Perhaps because Aegon had helped resolve part of their debt problems, these “working soldiers” had developed a faint sense of solidarity.
The progress of the Army Development quest had also increased by five percent.
No need to rush.
Take it slowly.
Aegon calmed himself, then drew a deep breath before issuing a stern command to the soldiers.
“Everyone, form ranks!
Training begins!”
…
…
At the docks, tow ropes bit into the shoulders of the haulers.
Salt crystals left behind by evaporating sweat sank into their wounds, stinging like needles.
Yet the cargo at the harbor continued piling up, piece by piece.
“Where are all the teamsters?
Why are they so slow today?”
A man wearing rings and holding a ledger snapped irritably.
He stood beneath a shade canopy, supervising the workers, but sweat continued beading across his forehead.
The heat only made his temper worse.
The “teamsters” this overseer and manager was complaining about were none other than the cavalrymen of Pentos.
They might have been useless in battle, but they knew horses inside and out.
As far as driving wagons or working as teamsters and stablehands was concerned, they were more than capable.
The cavalrymen were also happy to earn a little extra money on the side.
As time went on, nobody even regarded them as soldiers anymore.
They were simply seen as slightly more skilled horsemen and teamsters.
“I already asked around.
They said they have to train.”
“Train?
Train for what?
Look at the state they’re in.
What’s there even worth training?”
The man gave a contemptuous snort, as though he had just heard the funniest joke in the world.
“Apparently it’s the new commander who’s demanding it.”
“The new commander?
Who?”
“Seems to be Illyrio’s son.”
The answer left the manager somewhat puzzled.
The Pentoshi army had long since become an empty shell, thoroughly hollowed out by the governors.
Every governor who purchased a military position was thinking about one thing: how to make money from it.
Yet this inexperienced young nobleman actually wanted to make the soldiers train?
Was he seriously planning to turn them into a real army?
“Training?
Don’t those soldiers need to work so they can pay off their debts?”
“That I’m not sure about.
If you’re interested, I can go ask.”
No one had ever expected the cavalry regiment to actually charge into battle.
“I heard Illyrio spoiled this son of his rotten.
Back when he wanted to marry the boy’s mother, Illyrio even turned down a marriage alliance with the Prince.”
“Haha, the Prince?” The manager shook his head.
“Good that he refused.
Who would want to associate with a prince who could drop dead at any moment?”
In Pentos, the title of Prince sounded far more impressive than it actually was.
Although the Prince was chosen from among the city’s noble and ancient bloodlines, the reality was that whenever disaster struck—famine, drought, or some other calamity—the governors could simply have the Prince killed to appease the gods.
Put bluntly, the Prince was a convenient tool for calming the anger of the common people.
And natural disasters weren’t the only excuse.
If Pentos lost a war, the governors could simply blame the defeat on the Prince and have him killed as a sacrifice.
Among the many sellsword companies active throughout the Free Cities, there was one known as the Windblown.
Its captain was called the Tattered Prince.
He had once been chosen as the Prince of Pentos, but fearing that he would eventually be sacrificed, he fled the city that very night.
Years later, he founded the Windblown.
It was said that his ambition was to one day seize Pentos and become a Prince with genuine power.
The problem was that he was supposedly approaching seventy years of age by now.
Forget conquering Pentos.
Even returning to Pentos alive would be quite a challenge.
“I don’t care whether they train or not.
Our cargo needs to reach the warehouses on time.
Don’t let this happen again.”
The manager’s face turned cold, a sinister edge creeping into his voice.
For a few moments, his icy tone seemed capable of overpowering even the oppressive heat of the sun.
“Yes, my lord.”
…
…
The immediate problem of training had been temporarily resolved, but the issues of equipment and manpower remained.
And solving those problems would require an enormous amount of money.
The cavalry regiment’s full establishment was three hundred men.
They were still short by more than two hundred.
They were also short by more than two hundred horses.
Purchasing equipment and recruiting additional men was something Aegon simply couldn’t accomplish on his own.
The soldiers’ pay in the Pentoshi army was siphoned away at every level.
Even if Aegon, as their commander, refused to take a cut for himself, the legitimate share available to him would allow him to expand the force by only another twenty or thirty men at most.
At this scale, that was nothing more than a drop in the ocean.
The sons and relatives of the governors who profited from the army had long since formed an enormous web of shared interests.
Take the commander-in-chief of the army, for example.
He was one of the worst offenders when it came to drawing pay for nonexistent soldiers.
For all Aegon knew, out of more than ten thousand nonexistent soldiers, the commander-in-chief alone might be pocketing the wages of two or three thousand.
Aegon understood perfectly well that if he rashly tried to begin reforming the army by attacking the system of military pay, every one of those people would immediately join forces against him.
He wasn’t foolish enough to charge headfirst into a wall.
Doing so wouldn’t accomplish his goal.
It would only get him crushed.
When picking a persimmon, you squeeze the softest one first.
For now, there was only one practical solution.
Go to Illyrio and squeeze some gold out of him.