Volume Two: The Iron-Blooded Baron Chapter 112: Punishing the Two of You

“How much money can we really make from this? Training elite warriors for the arena only costs five denars a day, and one elite warrior can train about twenty to thirty caravan guards. Usually, a week of training is enough,” Gamji said, still unconvinced that this would be very profitable.

Berian smiled. “Brother Gamji, listen to me. If it’s just simple martial training, then yes, the earnings won’t be much. But what I’m offering is a complete training program for a small army. They won’t just learn fighting skills—they’ll develop discipline and teamwork. Don’t you think I can charge a higher price for that?”

“True,” Gamji replied. “But if it’s just individual martial skills, that’s no different from what Lohsil and his men have. If they run into your elite guards, they’ll get beaten badly.”

“That’s just the first point, and yes, there’s some profit in that. But the second point is also about making money, and it’s a steady income. Can you guess what it is?” Berian asked.

Gamji shrugged. “I have no idea. Come on, tell me.”

Berian chuckled. “The second point is selling armor and weapons. You saw our cloth armor and swords in Norlandburg—they’re no worse than those made in the workshops of Yangvik’s fortress city. In fact, our materials and quality are even better. We can sell these armors and weapons to them, but right now, I don’t have enough stock, and our armory workshop is too small to supply them yet.

“But if a few hundred people come here for training, they’ll pay for food, clothing, accommodation, and transportation while in Norlandburg. That’s another source of income. Over time, a stable cash flow like this is quite valuable.”

“Hmm, that makes sense,” Gamji nodded.

“As for the third point,” Berian continued, “this is my deeper purpose: to cultivate a pro-Norlandburg faction.

“The trainees are carefully selected by lords and wealthy merchants. When they return, they’ll bear significant responsibilities. If conflicts arise between Norlandburg and their lords, although I wouldn’t expect them to side with us outright, there will at least be goodwill, making negotiations easier.

“Besides, these trainees will spend at least three months training here. During that time, they’ll learn some habits, like washing with soap. When they leave, we can have them sell painted pottery as souvenirs. This way, they’ll carry Norlandburg’s specialties out, helping to open up markets for our goods,” Berian explained.

Gamji slapped his forehead, impressed. “I knew you weren’t just after money. You have deeper plans. I was right to suspect you. You’re terrifying—less than twenty years old, yet so scheming. Should I be wary of you? What if one day you take a disliking to me and sell me out, and I end up counting money for you?”

Riding alongside Gamji, Berian playfully punched him and teased, “You really have a suspicious mind. I, Berian, would never betray a friend like that. Stop doubting good people.”

“Ha! My good brother, I know you well enough. Enough teasing—I like your idea. On our way back, we can discuss the details. I’m in for this business!”

“Great! It’s a deal,” Berian laughed, sealing a formal agreement with his close friend Gamji.

That night, Berian and his personal guards drank heavily with Lohsil, Grimbor, Olomi, and the others. Berian didn’t wake until nearly noon the next day. Rubbing his aching head, he opened his eyes and almost thought he had been kidnapped after getting drunk the night before.

The small courtyard was littered with people lying in all directions, with cups and plates scattered everywhere. As he tried to step out, he noticed a puddle of vomit near his foot and wasn’t sure if it was his or someone else’s.

Waking to the sight of the sour, foul mess, Berian felt sick and rushed outside to a clean patch of grass where he vomited thoroughly.

Though painful and making him feel near death, after rinsing his mouth and washing his face with cool well water, he felt much better.

After a simple wash, Berian took out the handkerchief Jesse had given him to wipe his face. While searching the courtyard, he found Bran and Huck fast asleep in a haystack beside the stable.

Seeing the large wooden cup nearby, Berian guessed that the two boys had sneaked some drinks while he was passed out. They were both under eighteen—how daring! Clearly, he hadn’t been strict enough with them.

Thinking this, Berian returned to the well, filled a cup with cool water, then walked over and lightly sprayed some water onto their heads.

“Hmm… is it raining?” Huck mumbled, eyes still closed, wiping his face.

Bran rolled over but fell off the haystack. The fall instantly woke him up. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, he looked up and saw Berian grinning mischievously at them.

Bran quickly kicked Huck to wake him, but Huck was still too sleepy to understand and instead pushed Bran’s foot away, complaining, “If you keep bothering me, I’ll be mad! Let me sleep a little longer!”

Embarrassed, Bran glanced at Berian and sheepishly smiled, showing his neat white teeth.

Berian slowly sat down beside Huck and sighed, then splashed water from his cup onto Huck’s face.

“Bran! I’m going to kill you!” Huck leapt up, eyes wide with anger. But when he saw who it was, his fury instantly cooled.

He looked up timidly at Berian. His lord regarded him with an amused expression, making Huck even more nervous. He quickly explained, “Lord, we hadn’t planned to drink last night, but they pressured us so hard we couldn’t refuse and only had a little.”

Berian smiled and kept watching him, which made Huck’s heart race. He hurriedly confessed, “Lord, it’s all my fault. I dragged Bran into this mistake. We shouldn’t have drunk at all. We forgot our duties as guards. Please forgive us.”

Looking at Bran, he added, “I’m willing to accept any punishment alone.”

Bran, seeing Huck’s loyalty, quickly said, “Lord, it’s my fault. If you punish, please punish me. It was I who forced Huck to drink.”

Touched by their camaraderie, Berian’s irritation vanished, but he put on a stern expression. After all, abandoning the lord to go drinking with friends was a grave mistake that could not be overlooked.

Looking at the two bowed heads, Berian said, “You’re only fourteen or fifteen years old, so I won’t demand too much. After all, you’re still children.”

He had no idea that he was only four or five years older than them himself, yet his tone was like that of a middle-aged man.

“But since you’ve become my attendants and sworn allegiance to the God of Fire, you must stand guard. That is your duty.

“Last night you were with Uncle Lohsil and his friends, so having some wine wasn’t a problem. But did you consider what would have happened if it had been a trap set by our enemies?

“If I got drunk and was slaughtered in the banquet hall while you two hid off to drink, and then got caught and butchered like pigs, what then?

“Don’t think I’m exaggerating. These things can really happen. In chaotic times, caution is the only way to survive.”

Hearing this, Huck and Bran lowered their heads even further and said together, “Lord, we were wrong. We won’t make this mistake again.”

Berian smiled and nodded. “Admitting your faults means there’s hope for you. But if it happens again, not only will you be stripped of your duties, I’ll also banish you from Norlandburg. Understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

“We understand!” they shouted in unison.

Berian believed they would remember this lesson. He knew that when subordinates err, the punishment should be firm but fair, not harsh and heavy-handed, or else they’d develop a reckless sense of impunity and repeat the same mistakes.

Still, Berian had to discipline them for abandoning their posts and sneaking off to drink while their lord was getting drunk.

After some thought, he looked at them and said, “Achievements deserve rewards; mistakes deserve punishment. That’s true anywhere on the continent of Verlin.

“You two dared to leave your posts, so you must face the consequences. Are you willing to accept punishment? It will be severe.”

Huck and Bran exchanged a glance, and Huck answered firmly, “Lord, we accept any punishment, as long as you don’t send us away. Whatever it is, we’ll bear it.”

Berian stood and patted their shoulders, smiling. “I sentence you two to wash the guards’ smelly socks for a week. Also, on the way back, you must learn to write—at least enough to compose a note of three sentences or more. Can you do that?”

“Ah!” Huck and Bran almost cried. Washing stinky socks for a week would be bad enough, but having to learn writing too? This was a death sentence to their youthful spirits, as boys rarely enjoy serious study.

Huck mustered courage to bargain, “Lord, can we wash socks for two weeks and not learn to write?”

Berian gave him a disappointed look and slowly said, “You’ll wash socks for three weeks and learn to write a letter over a hundred words long.”

“Ahhh!” Huck hadn’t expected this outcome. Trying to bargain only made things worse. He deeply regretted it but had no choice now.

Berian ruffled their hair and said, “When will you two understand that this is for your own good?

“No matter how skilled in martial arts you become, how many people can you beat? But if you can read and write and think for yourselves, you can defeat thousands of enemies without setting foot on the battlefield. That’s truly useful.

“You two young rascals, study hard with me. Learning has no end.”

Though they didn’t understand why their lord called them “young rascals,” since he said it was for their benefit, they were willing to believe him. After all, Berian was truly kind and selfless toward them.