Over the past few days, Barnett's domain did not see the arrival of the fabled dwarves; instead, a missionary appeared—claiming to have been sent by the Pope of Rome, though the truth of his claim remained in question.
"Great Lord, your territory is lacking," the missionary said to Barnett with sincere concern.
"Mm? Lacking in what way?" Barnett asked, his tone laced with mockery. He truly held no high opinion of these missionaries.
Looking around at his city—neat and attractive, its streets entirely paved with bluestone slabs; every essential public facility well in place; the buildings themselves handsome and complete with a fully functional underground drainage system; reliable wells and water-supply installations; daily removal of both refuse and human waste to guarantee the city's sanitation… Barnett could not imagine what was "lacking."
Could it be that he was expected to build an epic metropolis like Rome or Constantinople?
The missionary shook his head helplessly, adopting a "fool beyond instruction" expression, and then said, "Your domain does not even have a single church. How can that be acceptable?"
…
All right, that truly was an oversight. Barnett had seen in the system's building options the possibility of constructing a monastery—"Enables the populace gradually to embrace Catholicism; Catholic worshippers' happiness +5%." Although building it would take only five days and cost 500 gold coins, Barnett—educated in 21st-century science—believed neither in faith nor in gods, and had therefore dismissed the idea of erecting a monastery outright.
But now someone had come to carp.
"Tch, what a pack of rubbish—they'll be wiped out sooner or later," Barnett thought to himself. Still, he feigned deference to the Church, tapped his forehead, and said, "Ah, this truly was my oversight. But in fact, there is a reason: our little town simply hasn't had any trustworthy clerics of late. Though in my heart I worship the Lord, as you know, this lord is very busy—extremely busy—and I confess my grasp of Catholic matters is only half-formed. So… heh heh heh heh…"
"So, if you had a cleric you could trust, you would build a church here?" the missionary asked.
"Of course—without question."
The missionary, inwardly reflecting, saw that this upstart town of Biard brimmed with vitality and boasted formidable defenses, already deserving of countship. Its municipal amenities reminded him of the good old days in Rome. Ah… the tragedy! He had preached across this continent for so long, only to find other places lacking even a proper bathing facility. Such a shame, given he had other missions—otherwise he would certainly have tricked this lord into appointing him as the town's pastor.
What a pity, truly a pity, he thought. Then, realizing he had no close clerical contacts nearby, he resolved to train his own clergy so they would serve him in turn.
Since that was the case, he decided to recommend some capable candidates.
"If Your Excellency would not object, I can introduce a batch of reliable ecclesiastical personnel. I believe you will be very satisfied," he offered.
"Oh… is that so? I appreciate your trouble," Barnett said, then treated the missionary to a lavish feast—roast suckling pig, crispy chicken, steak, and more, all salted, no less! The missionary was nearly moved to tears. Thanks to the system's livestock-breeding boost, the animals grew as if on steroids, and Biard's food quality soared. Coupled with the Nordic climate—nature's own refrigerator—there was no need, as elsewhere, for spices to preserve meat. Even serfs, used to nothing but black bread, now enjoyed a strip or two of meat with every meal, so moved they wept.
Thus, in Biard and its dependent villages, the improvement in food quality boosted the people's loyalty to Barnett by a further 15%!
he system sure gave me a lot of "People's Support Value." As expected, food is the god of the people—so long as the ruler can ensure the people are well-fed, the people will definitely support the ruler. This is absolutely, unquestionably a universal truth.
Barnett handed the departing missionary two bags of smoked chicken and white bread, saw him off, and then turned to consult the system sprite.
"By the way, in the legendary Middle Ages, is this whole belief thing a must-have?"
"That's right! It's spiritual sustenance for humans, after all. I mean, just look at Europe right now—it's basically one giant coffee table loaded with tragedy. If people didn't even have a sliver of spiritual support, wouldn't they all have offed themselves by now?"
"Fair enough. But look at my current territory—it's developing quite nicely, right? Even the serfs can fill their stomachs. So, do we still need religion?"
"Religion gives a morale bonus, you know."
"Huh?"
"Also, the legendary Crusade quests come with extremely generous rewards."
"Really?"
"And priests have incredibly strong morale-boosting abilities. Judging by the way you're acting now, chances are you'll be picking up some morale-decreasing traits in the future. So having a priest around means you won't have to worry about morale-boosting for your army anymore."
"...Hmm, makes sense."
With so many good reasons, Barnett agreed to the request to build a small monastery. After all, it only cost 500 gold coins. That translated to just eight or nine minutes of his lifespan—basically the amount of time it takes to zone out for a bit.
That's right—Barnett still had to exchange his remaining lifespan for money.
Fifteen days later, once the lord's manor, the large town center, and the stone walls were all completed, the town of Biyade officially upgraded into Biyade City. At the same time, Barnett received his first payout from the system.
"Due to your outstanding performance during the early stages of the game, the system has decided to issue you a reward," the system sprite announced solemnly.
"This really is a freakin' game?!"
"If you don't want the reward, I won't give it to you."
"I want it—how could I not?!" Barnett quickly gave in.
So while Barnett sometimes thought this system sprite was a bit unreliable, when it came to generosity—it really was generous.
A command saber: A legendary saber used by generals. Slightly more advanced than what this era should allow, making it exceptionally sharp. Barnett's Attack Power +1.
A white fox fur cloak: A stylish cloak used for looking cool and for ambushes in snowy terrain. Ambush Combat Ability +1.
A signet ring: Don't expect any magical ring-like abilities, but it can be used to stamp documents and approve paperwork. Legitimacy +1.
"But what exactly does 'legitimacy' mean?" Barnett asked the system sprite.
"You already have the strength of a count's domain. But do you consider yourself a count yet?"
"...Not quite?"
"Of course not. Are you planning to self-declare as a count? You need to understand that in this world, to receive a noble title, you have to swear fealty to a lord stronger than yourself. So if you want to become a count, you'll have to pledge allegiance to at least a duke, grand duke, or a king. Only then will you be granted the title. A title is only legitimate if it's granted by someone in power. Understand?"
"Then what if I declare myself king or emperor?"
"If you're looking to die early, then by all means. Even if you want to proclaim yourself king, you at least need to have a country first. As for emperor—there are only three emperor titles in this world: Emperor of the Roman Empire, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, and Emperor of the Frankish Empire. That's it.
For the first—Emperor of the Roman Empire—if you want to become Caesar, since you're neither Greek nor Roman, you'll need a nation-level power. Then you'd have to use military force to pressure the Byzantine Emperor into bestowing the title upon you.
If you want to become Augustus, well, you'll have to destroy Byzantium first.
For the Holy Roman Emperor—you'll need to use military force, power, or political maneuvering to subdue all the feudal lords within the Holy Roman Empire's territory. Then gain the support of the Pope, and be crowned in Rome.
As for the Frankish Emperor—if you have the skills, go ahead and unify all of Western and Central Europe, plus the Italian Peninsula. Once you've done that, you can call yourself whatever you want."
...Alright, maybe I should be a little more grounded. First, unify Norway. Then grease the palms of the Papacy a little and get myself crowned as the King of Norway. Barnett thought to himself.
"So how many small tribes are still left in the Norwegian Black Forest?" Barnett asked the system sprite.
"You really think you're gonna keep stumbling into free treasure like this?" the sprite scoffed. "Sure, the Grand Duke of Norway is dead, but there are still plenty of people stronger than you in Norway. Especially the legendary Count of Oslo, Felix von Luckner, widely considered the best candidate to inherit the title of Grand Duke of Norway. During the last expedition to England, he played it smart and held back his forces—he didn't send many of his own troops. After the Norwegian army got wiped out by England, he emerged as the most powerful force within Norway. He quickly conquered a huge number of tribes around Oslo and now commands a population of over 300,000. He can raise an army of 10,000 troops, has nearly 200 knights sworn to him, and is on excellent terms with the King of Scotland. There are even rumors that they've formed an alliance, and that King Kenneth I of Scotland is just waiting for him to become the Grand Duke of Norway so they can team up to destroy England."
"—Wait a sec. Did you say an army of 10,000, nearly 200 knights, and a population of 300,000…? Is that really the kind of army you can scrape together in medieval Scandinavia?"
"That's why I told you—it's another world. It's not the same as the real historical setting you knew in your past life."
"Wow, the 'another world' excuse really is a catch-all. Anything you can't explain? Just blame it on being in another world. Hey, does this world have Newton's three laws of motion?"
"Who knows."
"Alright then. Sounds like this Count of Oslo, Felix von Luckner, really is a force to be reckoned with. What about the others?" Barnett asked again.
"Besides him, there's the former Grand Duke's son—Count Olaf III of Bergen. While his military strength is a bit weaker, he's considered legitimate, so he's supported by many smaller Norwegian tribes. Rumor has it he also has some kind of… murky relationship with the Queen of Denmark."
"Pull up the map."
Barnett pulled up the map of Norway. The entire Arctic Circle region was essentially unusable permafrost. South of the Arctic Circle, Oslo sat to the south, Bergen to the north. Both factions claimed roughly equal territory.
The most critical detail? Biyade City's territory sat right in the middle—sandwiched directly between the domains of Felix von Luckner and Olaf III of Bergen…
Barnett was speechless. At least for now, he had no geographic advantage. In terms of city size, army strength, economic income—he had no advantage in any category. He was by far the weakest faction.
This was going to be tough!