Before the Celebration (Reborn as the First Boss #12)
Prologue – Highfrost
Baron Aymon Highfrost was an ambitious man. However, he was also a patient and cautious one. Those were traits he had inherited from his father, the previous Baron Highfrost, and they had served him well over the years, as he led his barony.
The geography of Highfrost Barony was both blessing and curse. The Irontooth Mountains ran through eastern Bikar, along the northern parts of Shadescar Barony, and eventually to Coldpeak and the Crownlands of Dascora, separating most of the country from the Northern Reaches. However, three valleys joined together near the headwaters of the Livingbrook River to form the Highfrost Barony. This made the barony incredibly easy to defend, and rich in ores and gems of all sorts. However, there were limits to how much farming one could do in such a land, which meant that three-quarters of the food they ate came from the fertile fields in Windwater Barony.
In the time of the old Baron Windwater, greedy bastard that he was, that dependency had caused some considerable distress, as the old baron had always been grasping for more and more. It had taken a great deal of skill to keep the baron from choking Highfrost’s prosperity and bleeding it dry. Fortunately, the only thing worse than the old baron’s lust for gold had been his lust for flesh, so Highfrost had managed to subvert and distract him. He was not proud of all the things he had done to ensure Highfrost remained healthy and strong, but he would not apologize for them, either, and, if put in the same position, he would do them again.
Thankfully, the old Baron Windwater had apparently slipped at the top of the stairs, and fell upon a knife a dozen times on the way down. Better still, Windwater’s Seneschal had died in bed, with signs that his heart gave out, unable to keep up with the prostitute who had been riding him. He had his suspicions on the timing of the two events, of course, as did everyone who did more than glance at them, but the aftermath made it hard to care about such things. The new Baroness Pureheart had immediately started to rebuild Windwater Barony’s tattered reputation, and tensions had eased greatly. Better still, Windwater’s prosperity aided Highfrost’s. So, no, Aymon would not look too closely into how the change had come about.
His seneschal, Cristina Snowbrace, walked into his study without announcing herself. She never did. Her family had served his as seneschals since before Highfrost had joined Dascora, back when it was a minor kingdom, and they were fast friends. In fact, if it weren’t for matters of inheritance and duty, they probably would have been more than friends. But a Baron was ‘strongly encouraged’ to marry for reasons other than pleasure or love, and Cristina could not be Seneschal if she was Baroness.
“Aymon, I just heard from Dane at the Merchant’s Guild. Pureheart has returned to Windwater at last.”
Aymon did not react to her use of his given name. When it was just family, he permitted that familiarity, because it helped keep the families close. The news, though, did get his attention. Dane was the local Guildmaster for the Merchants Guild here in Highfrost. His people were the closest thing Aymon had to spies in the rest of Dascora, since merchants went everywhere and heard all kinds of things.
Naturally, he had heard about Baroness Pureheart traveling west to Crystalshield as a common adventurer with a minimum number of guards, in order to get a trainer to help build a militia in Windwater. And he had certainly heard the rumors of what had happened in Shadescar. But his attention had been on ensuring that the mines kept producing, and making sure that the patrols in the mountains were maintained, so he had not looked into it further.
The militia idea was interesting, but not something he would implement, right away, if it worked out. Highfrost was relatively safe from invasion, but there were monsters who lived in the mountains, and sometimes they grew too bold for comfort. That was why it had been law in Highfrost Barony since the time it was a kingdom that every resident, from the lowest peasant to the Baron and any clergy of the churches devote at least one of the skill points granted to them by the Voice of the World to a weapon skill. Every man, woman, and child old enough to have unlocked their Status had some training in wielding weapons, no matter their class or profession. Still, the idea of having an organized militia to call up, just in case, was not a bad one. He would need to pay attention to how things worked out to the south.
“So, young Pureheart is back, then. How did she fare on her trip?”
Cristina laughed, and said, “Better than one could possibly imagine. According to Dane’s contact, the Baroness is now Level 10 in Tier 2, along with her core retinue, which has expanded to include a High Elf, an Angel, a Dire Hellhound, and a Lesser Frost Dragon. And, besides the centaur she hired on as a trainer, there are eight more in her train, all marked with [Slave Brands], including a Tier 2 Succubus. Apparently, the succubus was the only survivor of a group of assassins who tried to kill her.”
Aymon frowned. “And she was under level 10 in Tier 1 when the Goblin Hero attacked Stonebreak. That kind of leveling speed is unnatural. Plus, a Lesser Frost Dragon as part of her party? And now she’ll be training a militia in Windwater? That changes the balance of power in the kingdom quite a lot.”
“Yes, it does,” Cristina agreed. “Moreso as time goes on. I know you were wanting to wait and see how the militia concept plays out in Windwater before deciding one way or the other, but we may need to start making plans now. Not that I think Pureheart will turn on us, but despite her rumored demon heritage, she can’t reign forever. And whoever comes after her may not be as amicable.”
“You’re right, of course. Fortunately, the law requiring all those who live in Highfrost, even the slaves, to have a weapon skill means that our people aren’t completely helpless. They just need a bit of training on formation fighting and some combat experience and they would be better than untrained levies already.”
“Actually, I had an idea for that,” Cristina said. “We can’t do the formation training without committing to the militia concept, but our people already have a reputation in Dascora of being a martial sort, second only to the Northern Reaches. We can organize a tourney, to be held every Markday save First Day. Using training weapons enchanted to be incapable of killing, but to make sure anyone on the other side of it feels the hits like they were real. Open it to all residents, and have a small purse for the winners.”
“Encouraging them to train and get some combat experience, without actually forming a militia or doing anything that would cause the Shadowed Eyes to take an unhealthy interest in us,” Aymon nodded. “I like it. We’ll have the first tourney at Halfmark. Spread word through the barony, and we’ll announce it to the kingdom while I attend the King’s Anniversary next month. And, at the same time, I’ll get to meet young Pureheart in person for the first time, and take her measure.”