The knight promotion trials kept Sardinson Castle lively for quite some time. Every knight squire was given the chance to participate, and all performed admirably—the final results were more than satisfactory.
They were quite lucky, too. Under normal circumstances, in such a competition, only the top few would earn promotions. But due to Felix's current shortage of manpower, things were different this time: out of 120 knight squires, 60 were successfully promoted to full knights.
Of course, this didn't mean the remaining squires performed poorly. On the contrary, they were all quite good, just not as outstanding as those who got selected. Overall, the quality was impressive and praiseworthy.
Felix's main reason for holding this round of promotions was to bolster the defenses of Slot County. However, considering Slot's current sparse population, promoting all 120 squires and sending them there would leave Sardinson severely undermanned, potentially disrupting its operations. Therefore, he selected only a portion of the squires for promotion. Once the knighting ceremony was complete, these individuals would be transferred to Slot.
Those chosen were overjoyed. Official promotion not only meant they had become independent, full-fledged knights, but also that they would now be granted their fiefs.
Those who weren't selected were certainly disappointed, but not disheartened. They resolved to train even harder in preparation for the next opportunity. It was obvious to all that their lord needed more subordinates. Right now, only part of Slot was ready to receive new appointments—once the rest was built up, more knights would surely be needed.
And who's to say the remaining half of Slot couldn't be acquired too?
Many began looking toward Slot with ambition in their eyes.
Among nobles, wars over land, resources, and population were quite common, especially between neighboring territories. Often, there wasn't even a need for an official justification. If one noble wanted to fight another, they simply did. Even if the king found out and one side ended up swallowing the other whole, the most they'd face would be a mild scolding letter. Actual consequences were rare.
Of course, if either party had powerful backers, things could get complicated.
But in this case, the neighboring baron, the former Earl of Slot, had been demoted precisely because he offended a major noble. He had no influential connections. Attacking him wouldn't cause any ripples.
That's why the baron had been so cautious ever since Felix took over the other half of Slot. Trapped between Princia and Sardinson, with both neighboring lords being friends, it would be far too easy for them to crush him.
He had tried currying favor with Felix, but to no avail. Felix rarely attended gatherings hosted by other nobles—in fact, he rarely did. He seldom held banquets himself either. And on the rare occasion he did, as a mere baron, it was nearly impossible to get close to him. Trying to approach the countess was even harder. Wei Wei disliked social gatherings just as much. If she didn't, the most powerful noble lady in all of eastern Pradi would already be surrounded by flocks of flattering noblewomen. But even the wives of Felix's barons and the families of his knights had never been invited to her estate—others didn't stand a chance.
What's more, both Felix and Wei Wei had a very poor impression of that baron. When they first took control of Slot, they heard plenty of horror stories from the serfs about his abuses. They had even used those stories to intimidate him once.
To say Felix had no ambitions for the rest of Slot would be a lie. He simply hadn't had the time to act yet.
But just because he lacked time didn't mean his knights did. It was common practice among nobles for their knights to disguise themselves as bandits and "raid" targeted regions. Many of Felix's knights were beginning to think: if they weren't currently assigned to anything urgent, why not take a "stroll" through the other half of Slot? Naturally, this would require their lord's approval.
Felix's response: not yet.
They were too busy right now—no need to waste time on minor affairs.
The knights nodded, signaling their understanding. So basically, they could go cause trouble once they weren't busy?
Winter, for example, seemed like a perfect time—cold weather calls for some vigorous exercise to stay warm.
While the men were dreaming up their winter "workouts," Wei Wei was busy organizing the upcoming knighting ceremony.
Because multiple knights were being honored at once, the ceremony would be somewhat streamlined. Each knight would kneel on one knee before Felix and swear fealty. Felix would then touch their shoulders three times with the flat of his sword and recite a few words of guidance or admonishment. That would complete the ritual.
But Felix had to repeat this process sixty times. Even if each took less than a minute, the entire ceremony would still take close to an hour.
Generously, Felix handed half the knighting duties to Wei Wei. No one objected. As the Countess and a member of the Williams family, she had just as much authority and status as Felix. It was only natural that she, too, could confer knighthood. Some recipients were even more honored to be knighted by her.
After the ceremony, a grand celebration banquet would follow. To suit the knights' tastes, the menu featured hearty dishes perfect for pairing with alcohol. The newly brewed beer was plentiful enough to keep them drinking until dawn.
These days, everyone in Sardinson knew how to brew beer with hops, and the method had spread quickly to other regions. The result was improved flavor and a longer shelf life. The castle maintained large reserves at all times. Even the maids drank beer daily. After all, in an age where beer was consumed like water, even women were expected to drink.
And everyone agreed: the Countess's beer was the best.
At the banquet, Kingsley's face was flushed from drinking. He usually had excellent self-control, never allowing himself to get drunk. But tonight was different. He was ecstatic and determined to drink to his heart's content, just like everyone else.
Among the newly promoted knights was his squire, who was both his student and his son.
It wasn't uncommon for knights to train their sons as squires. Knight titles could be inherited by sons if they proved capable enough. So most knights took teaching their children very seriously—better to train them personally than entrust them to someone else.
Kingsley had originally assumed his son would only succeed him after his retirement. And since he was only forty this year, he expected to serve the count for at least another decade or two—maybe more. That meant his son likely wouldn't become a knight until reaching Kingsley's current age.
But fortune smiled on his eldest. Not only did he not have to wait so long, but thanks to his outstanding performance, he had graduated early and officially earned knighthood. At just twenty, he had already brought a new fief to the Hall family—what a joyous occasion!
And since the son now had his title, Kingsley could pass his title to another son.
That said, he now faced a minor but sweet dilemma: he had only planned for his eldest to inherit the knight title. His younger son had never undergone knight training. Now seventeen, the boy already held a respectable management position in the Count's factory and was soon due for a promotion. It was no longer practical to train him as a knight.
"Then, who should I pass my title to?" Kingsley mumbled, slightly tipsy. His tone was light, but the question was real.
He was truly happy—but also genuinely troubled. If no heir was named, both his title and fief would be reclaimed. Knight titles couldn't be held jointly; he needed to find a successor.
"What's there to be troubled about? Just have another kid!" his already half-drunk companion clapped him hard on the back.
It wasn't impossible. Kingsley was only forty, still in his prime. His wife was seven or eight years younger. While not young for childbearing, she wasn't too old either.
Still, childbirth at an older age carried risks.
And Kingsley loved his wife dearly—he wouldn't ask her to take such a risk.
"Then give it to your grandson," another chimed in. "I plan to pass my title to my youngest grandson. He's three now. Soon he'll be old enough to start training."
Kingsley looked over. Like himself, this man's squire was his son, also newly promoted. They were both facing the same issue: needing a new heir.
Unlike Kingsley, though, the man only had one son, who was long overdue for promotion but hadn't had the chance until now. He had two sons of his own—one would inherit his father's title, the other, his grandfather's. Perfect.
The idea sparked something in Kingsley too. Though he didn't have another suitable son, he could wait for a grandson!
His eldest had just become a knight and wasn't yet married. But once he was, his firstborn would naturally inherit his title. As for his younger son, knowing he would need to forge his path, he had married young. The couple didn't have children yet, but surely that would change soon.
Of course, Kingsley would need to discuss it with his eldest. He didn't want a rift between his sons over inheritance.
Plenty of others at the banquet shared the same dilemma. Sardinson had once been a poor place. Outsiders weren't likely to send their sons here to study under local knights. And locals were often too poor to afford knight training or lacked noble blood altogether, making social mobility almost impossible. So most of Sardinson's squires were related by blood to their knight mentors.
Cases like Chimi's—born a serf—were rare indeed. Without Felix's special favor, they never would have had a chance.