“Regarding updates: I only had 5-chapter as backlog which was fully posted!
Moving forward, all chapters are written daily .
I just want to ensure readers know that I am able to upload daily as these are fresh ideas and new chapter is written daily.
I can’t say anything about a schedule as I write daily check the chapter for mistake or If something can be added and then upload the chapter.
Thanks for reading and following along—your comments and feedback on each chapter directly motivate the daily grind!”
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The grease from the roast fish had congealed on the wooden platters, and the flagon of dark beer sat three-quarters empty between them.
The initial haze of gluttony had faded, replaced by the heavy, flickering warmth of Miller Peshek’s hearth fire.
Fritz leaned back against the rough bench, picking his teeth with a splinter of pine, while Matthew stared into his ale cup, his expression hovering between disbelief and unease.
Across from them, Johanka held her warm hands cupped around a bowl of clean water, her eyes fixed entirely on Henry.
“Henry leaned forward, planting his forearms heavy on the oak table.
The green wool of his new doublet strained across his shoulders, the brass badge of House Kobyla glinting in the low candlelight.”
“Listen to me,” Henry said quietly.
His voice carried a weight—a steady, sharp authority—that had been entirely missing back when they were throwing dung at Deutsch’s house.
“I told you what we’re going to be.
Now I’m telling you how we get there.
Like you said, Matthew, thinking is easy, but working is difficult.”
He looked around at their expectant faces.
“I’m going to start my training with Captain Bernard tommorow because I’m a squire.
Sir Radzig and Captain Bernard will ensure I receive the best training possible for someone who is going to be knighted.
After that, I will also be joining the Rattay city watch.
Sir Hanush arranged this so the Skalitz refugees would feel safe seeing one of their own in the guard, but it’s also an opportunity.
“I trust every one of you with my life.
But right now, none of us know a damn thing about leading men, keeping books, or winning a real battle.”
Henry turned his gaze toward Johanka.
“Johanka, tomorrow I am going to speak with Sir Radzig and convince him to approach the Rattay apothecary on your behalf, so he takes you on as his apprentice.
I want you to learn everything from him—how to mix salves, brew potion tinctures, treat deep wounds, and identify every medicinal herb in Bohemia.
You will be our physician.”
He then looked back at Matthew, Fritz, and Matthias.
“While I learn how to fight as a knight from Captain Bernard, I am also paying a scribe to teach me how to read and write.
And every single thing I learn—I am going to teach to you.”
Silence fell over the table.
Fritz’s mouth hung open, and Matthew just stared at Henry like he’d lost his mind.
“You…
you would teach us those things?” Matthew stammered, his voice hushed.
“Henry, reading, writing, numbers…
those are things for noble children, wealthy merchants, and burgesses!
We are peasants!”
“You’re right, we were peasants,” Henry said, his voice ringing with quiet conviction.
“But we won’t be peasants forever.
Look at me—I became a squire because Sir Radzig recognized my skill and saw that I was able to survive the fall of Skalitz and return alive.
I am going to pass those same skills on to you.
Every evening, we will meet right here at the mill.
I will teach you letters, numbers, reading, and writing.
And I will teach you how to properly wield a sword, how to kill our enemies, and how not to die.”
A spark lit up in Fritz’s and Matthew’s eyes.
The thought of learning to read and write, of wielding real steel and becoming something far greater than dirt-stained villagers—things none of them had ever dreamed possible in their lifetime—sent a wave of quiet thrill through the room.
However, Johanka frowned slightly, raising a valid point.
“Hell, Henry…
all of this requires money.
You can’t just convince the apothecary to take an uneducated refugee girl as an apprentice based on Sir Radzig’s name alone.
It takes silver to pay for apprenticeships, books, and supplies.”
“She’s right, Hal,” Fritz chimed in, leaning over the table.
“You gave all the loot you gathered from Skalitz to Sir Radzig, didn’t you?
Where are you going to get the silver to pay the apothecary or buy us gear?”
Henry let out a slow, knowing smirk.
“I gave Sir Radzig what he needed to see.
I brought him the scavengers’ tribute and goods to prove my strength, loyalty, and ability to survive.
But do you really think that was all the loot?”
Matthew’s eyes narrowed sharply.
“What do you mean?”
“When I ambushed those scavengers in Rovna,” Henry whispered, leaning closer, “I hid a good portion of the heavy loot and silver groschen in a secure spot nearby.
It’s still sitting there, completely untouched.
I can go back and retrieve it whenever we need.
That silver will be our initial fund—the foundation of our mercenary company.”
A subtle silence fell as they digested the fact that Henry had held back loot right under the noses of the lords, but any doubts vanished quickly.
This wasn’t greed; this was the lifeline that would save them from starvation and turn them into men of standing.
“Within that hidden stash,” Henry explained, laying out his vision on the table, ” there are proper weapons—swords, warhammers, polearms, crossbows, and arrows.
We’ll have enough to arm the five of us fully.
“There’s enough steel back there to outfit the lot of us.
Hauberks, brigandines, iron caps, and greaves.
Three of us will fight in heavy iron on the front line, while two stay light on their feet with hunting bows and crossbows.”
Fritz slammed his fist onto the table with a grin that split his face from ear to ear.
“Chainmail, bows, and reading books by night!
God’s blood, Henry, you really have thought of everything!”
As their wooden cups clinked together, a faint golden light twitched in the corner of Henry’s eye.
It flashed once—sharp enough to make him squint—then vanished back into the warm glow of the hearth.
Henry rubbed his eyes, wondering if it was just the fatigue from the road or a trick of the hearth fire, but he brushed the thought aside to focus on his friends.
There would be time to worry about it later.
“All of that equipment will be retrieved later,” Henry continued, leaning over the table.
“Once you all have the basic training down, I’ll take you along to recover it.
It’ll be good real-world experience for you.”
At the mention of coin and armors, Fritz’s eyes glinted with curiosity.
“Speaking of coin… how much silver are we actually talking about, Henry?”
“Around three hundred silver Groschen,” Henry replied smoothly, keeping his voice steady.
“It was my father saving that he hid under the floorbed .”
He deliberately kept quiet about the extra four hundred Groschen he had taken off the Cumans and scavengers.
That was his own hidden fund—a personal reserve for emergencies.
Using his father’s savings to secure a future for himself and his friends was justification enough; the rest would stay safely out of sight.
“Matthew, you need to keep this strictly between us.
But beyond just training you three, we need a way to place our own people inside the Rattay guard.”
Theresa frowned, shaking her head slightly.
“And how do you plan to do that, Henry?
The Rattay guard is already at full capacity.
You only got in as an exception because you’re Sir Radzig’s squire.”
“You’re right,” Henry acknowledged.
“But most of those guards have been sitting on their posts for ten years or more.
Over a decade in the same position breeds corruption.
They’ve likely been taking bribes from merchants who want to bypass the Bailiff’s registry to avoid product taxes.
Some of them might even be shaking down local shopkeepers for protection money.”
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
“If we track down those corrupt guards and identify the merchants skimming on their taxes, I can gather solid evidence and present it directly to Sir Hanush and Sir Radzig.
Corrupt guards will be stripped of their posts, creating vacancies—vacancies I can fill with people loyal to us.
On top of that, any hidden stashes those guards have stowed away become fair game for us to seize.”
Fritz grinned, leaning in closer.
“Now that sounds like a plan.”
“Here is what I need from you, Matthew,” Henry instructed.
“Recruit some trustworthy men and boys from among the Skalitz refugees—preferably orphans or those with nothing left to lose who are willing to act as our eyes and ears.
“Find out which guards take bribes at the gate, who drinks on duty, and which merchants are dodging taxes.
Watch who comes and goes at night, and listen to what the tavern cooks drop when they’re drunk.
Every bit of filth they’re hiding is something we can use.”
He then turned to Johanka.
“Johanka, you can help from your side too.
Gather some of the Skalitz women and widows to harvest wild herbs around Rattay.
You can practice brewing remedies and medicine.
We can use the medicine to treat our own refugees and sell the surplus back to the townspeople for extra coin.”
Johanka’s face lit up with approval.
“That…
is actually a brilliant idea, Henry.
It gives the women something productive to do and helps keep everyone healthy.”
Henry reached into his pouch, pulled out a handful of silver coins, and passed five to six Groschen to each of them.
“Starting tomorrow, we meet back here in the evening to pool our information and plan our next move.” Henry raised his wine cup high, a confident smile touching his lips.
“To our future—and to getting rich.”
They raised their cups together, clinking them in agreement.
After Johanka, Matthew, Matthias, and Fritz vanished into the cool night air, the heavy timber door shut with a solid latch.
The mill grew quiet again, save for the crackle of pine logs on the hearth and the steady thrum of the river outside.
Theresa stood by the oak table, slowly gathering the greasy platters and wooden trenchers into a stack.
She didn’t head straight for the washbasin, though.
Instead, she set the wooden dishes down and turned to Henry, her hands folded over her apron, her eyes fixed on him with quiet determination.
“We should get ready for bed,” Theresa said softly.
“You need to wake up early tomorrow for training with Captain Bernard, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Henry sighed, a smirk playing on his face despite the fatigue setting into his shoulders.
“Captain Bernard doesn’t accept excuses.
If I’m late, he’ll have me running laps around the upper bailiwick in full harness.”
Theresa didn’t laugh.
She took a step closer, looking up into his eyes.
“Teach me too, Henry.”
Henry blinked, caught off guard.
“Teach you what?”
“Everything,” she said firmly.
“Letters, numbers, reading, writing…
and how to hold a blade.”
Henry stared at her for a moment before letting out a soft laugh, waving his hand dismissively.
“Theresa, come on.
You have Uncle Peshek here.
The mill is safe, and one day you’ll likely inherit the whole place.
You don’t need to learn how to swing a sword or read merchant ledgers.”
“I don’t *want* to inherit the mill!” Theresa snapped, her voice sharp enough to make Mutt lift his head from the hearth.
She took another step toward him, her chest heaving slightly.
“Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life measuring sacks of rye and listening to my uncle gripe about the Rattay bailiff?
I survived Skalitz, Henry.
I ran through the woods with Cuman arrows flying past my ears.
I am not going to sit in this kitchen every day waiting to hear if you died in a ditch!”
Henry opened his mouth to protest, but the fierce resolve in her eyes cut him short.
“You said it yourself,” Theresa continued, her tone softening slightly, though her gaze remained locked onto his.
“You need people you can trust completely.
Matthew is sharp, but he’s cautious.
Fritz is a hothead who thinks with his fists.
Who is going to manage your coin?
Who is going to keep track of the weapons, the food, and the equipment you buy?
Who is going to go through all the rumors and gossip spies bring back and figure out what’s real and what’s a lie?”
She reached out, her fingers lightly catching the edge of his wool doublet, right beside the bronze badge of Sir Radzig.
“Let me be your quartermaster, Henry.
Let me keep your books and filter your information.
I can keep our accounts right here under Peshek’s roof where no guard or bailiff will ever think to look.
But if I’m going to do that…
I need to know how to read and write.
And if war comes again, I want to be strong enough to protect myself—and protect you if I have to.”
Henry looked down at her hand on his doublet, then up at her face.
The stubborn, fiery spirit that had kept her alive in the ruins of Skalitz was shining bright.
He knew there was no arguing with her when she made up her mind.
A slow, genuine smile spread across Henry’s face.
He reached over and wrapped his hand around hers.
“Master Quartermaster, is it?” Henry teased gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.
“Uncle Peshek is going to lose his mind when he finds out his niece is running a mercenary treasury behind his back.”
“So…
do we have a deal, Sir Squire?”
“We have a deal,” Henry said quietly.
“Tomorrow night, after Bernard is done beating me with wooden swords, your first lesson begins.”
=
After Theresa blew out the main hearth candles and retired to her loft, silence settled completely over the mill.
Only the steady ticking of the waterwheel outside broke the quiet.
Remembering the odd golden flicker that had flashed across his eyes when the others swore to join him, Henry closed his eyes and open his player menu.
Normally, he checked it just to inspect his stamina, sword skills, or the durability of his coat of mail.
*PLAYER…
CRAFTING…
INVENTORY…
CODEX…
*
Henry focused his thoughts, looking to see if something had actually changed or if his tired eyes had simply played tricks on him.
Beside the CODEX tab, where there had usually been blank parchment tone, a brand new golden script pulsed gently:
**[ LEDGER ]**
*What in God’s name…?* Henry thought, his brow furrowing.
He focused his attention on the icon, expecting the UI to glitch or fade away.
Instead, with the crisp sound of turning parchment, a detailed record unrolled across his vision:
== COMPANY LEDGER ===
Commander: Henry of Skalitz (Squire to Sir Radzig Kobyla)
Base of Operations: Miller Peshek’s Mill (Rattay – Unofficial)
Loyalty Status: Established (5 Core Members)
RETINUE & PERSONNEL
Core Officers (5/5):
• Matthew – [Role: Intelligence / Scouting]
• Fritz – [Role: Vanguard / Enforcer]
• Matthias – [Role: Logistics / Infantry]
• Johanka – [Role: Physician / Apothecary Apprentice]
• Theresa – [Role: Quartermaster / Treasurer]
Recruits / Informants: 0
Total Men-at-Arms: 1 (Henry)
TREASURY & ASSETS
Personal Reserve: 5125 Groschen
Company Treasury: 300 Groschen (Father’s Savings )
Pocket Coin: 15 Groschen (Distributed 25 Groschen to core group)
STORES & EQUIPMENT
Weapons & Armor:
• Heavy Armor Sets (Hauberks, Brigandines, Helmets): 3
• Light Armor Sets: 2
• Sidearms / Ranged: 5 Sets (Swords, Bows, Crossbows )
Provisions & Livestock:
• Rations: 3 Days
• Mounts: 3 (olena and two mare)
Henry stared at the glowing parchment, his breath catching in his throat.
*Where in God’s name did this come from?*
He blinked hard, rubbing his eyes, but the golden script remained firmly suspended in his vision.
Up until now, the System had been straightforward—it tracked his personal stats, sword mastery, crafting progress, and stored items in his inventory.
It was a tool for a lone survivor.
But this?
This was entirely different.
*Wait a second…* Henry’s eyes narrowed as he parsed the layout of the UI.
*The Ledger.
This is from the Prybislavitz DLC!*
He remembered it clearly.
When Henry became the bailiff of Prybislavitz, he was given a ledger book to track the settlement’s progress—what buildings needed to be constructed, the raw materials required, supply costs, daily income, and population counts.
This new tab was an adapted, automated version of that exact mechanic.
Except here, because he didn’t own Prybislavitz yet, the System had adapted itself to his current reality: **A Mercenary Company.**
A slow, scheming grin spread across Henry’s face as the full strategic weight of this revelation hit him.
In real life, managing a mercenary company—or a fiefdom—was an absolute nightmare of logistics.
Commanders were routinely scammed by their own quartermasters, supply sergeants embezzled coin, soldiers hoarded rations, and desertion rates were impossible to track without a massive administrative apparatus.
You never truly knew if your men were lying to your face about remaining arrows, spoiled meat, or missing armor.
Now?
Henry had an uncheatable, real-time diagnostic tool floating right before his eyes.
He noticed the line under Base of Operations: `Rattay Mill (Unofficial)`.
*If it registers an ‘unofficial’ base now,* Henry realized, *that means when I eventually acquire real land of my own, this ledger will track my entire domain.
It will monitor crop yields, tenant populations, local production, tax revenue, and exact resource stores automatically.*
Then his thoughts pivoted to the trigger.
*Why did it unlock right now?*
He had talked about building a company for days, but the system hadn’t budged.
The golden flicker only flashed the exact second Fritz, Matthew, Matthias, Johanka, and Theresa swore their loyalty and accepted their roles.
*The System didn’t register a plan,* Henry thought, his pulse quickening.
*It registered when action was completed .*
Henry leaned back against the timber wall, staring at the ceiling as his mind raced through the implications.
If the Prybislavitz settlement ledger could manifest because he formed a retinue…
what about the other mechanics?
.
He didn’t know the exact requirements for every hidden sub-system yet, but he had just stumbled onto the blueprint.
Forming the company unlocked the Ledger.
“If I remember correctly, there was one of the functions of the players menu, and I think I know how to unlock it.”