Instead of seeking out his new recruits, Robson rushed toward the logistics department of Sunset Fortress.
"Sir Robson, we've been waiting for you."
The moment he arrived at the logistics department, Robson was stopped by an old man in a nobleman's robe.
"Viscount Fuman, I didn't expect you to come see me in person," Robson said, slightly surprised.
Fuman was from the south of the kingdom. The Caucasus family he represented had shops in dozens of southern cities, making them a semi-capitalist family.
One shouldn't think this world was backward. Due to the existence of Magic, productivity wasn't actually low. At least, its benefits were confined to the upper class, which had led to the formation of many semi-capitalist, semi-feudal families.
This wasn't as apparent in the Frank Kingdom, but in the southeastern human territories, which were mostly coastal, wealthy merchant families were everywhere. Some Kings even openly auctioned off titles of nobility.
"I just came from seeing the Earl. I've heard of your deeds, Sir. You are quite accomplished for your age," Viscount Fuman said with a chuckle.
Robson understood immediately. This man had been introduced by Count Offman and wanted to invest in him.
In this world, the truly enduring noble families were often happy to invest in newcomers. Some families had even institutionalized the practice.
No one could guarantee their own perpetual prosperity. The connections they invested in now were insurance policies for the future.
This could be considered the nobles' way of survival.
This was especially true for the Caucasus family. Robson not only had an impressive track record but was also backed by the Deriman Family. He was, without a doubt, a blue-chip stock with low risk and high returns.
After figuring this all out, Robson gave a relaxed smile. With Count Offman's favor, there were surely plenty of people who wanted to invest in him.
"I merely did my small part. It was my seniors who gave me the opportunity," Robson replied.
Negotiation was a skill. Robson wasn't sure how highly the Caucasus family valued him, so he prepared to let the other party make the first offer.
Viscount Fuman's smile became a bit more sincere. As a bona fide wily old fox of the nobility, he naturally understood what Robson meant. In fact, it was because he understood that he appreciated him all the more. He was an investor, after all.
"I heard from the Earl earlier that he's assigning you another 500 men. It seems your talents have earned the Earl's recognition," Viscount Fuman said with a smile.
Robson more or less understood. The support from Viscount Fuman would be focused on these 500 new troops, or rather, it would be support in the form of military supplies.
'Just as I thought, this is what a noble is.' Robson didn't know whether to be happy or sad.
Viscount Fuman's actions were a clear case of using public authority for private gain. After all, the bulk of the supplies he provided would surely be siphoned from the army's own stores.
The happy part was that as long as Robson agreed, he would basically get whatever he wanted in the future.
The sad part was, having to associate with these vermin...
"Yes, and to be honest, my lord, I've been worrying about this very matter recently," Robson said with a sigh and a frown.
"Oh? Please, feel free to speak your mind, Sir. Let's see if I can lend a humble hand," Viscount Fuman said with a beaming smile.
"To be frank, my lord, everyone says I have a knack for commanding soldiers, but as they say, you know your own business best. How could I possibly have such great ability?"
"The truth is, those soldiers were trained up bit by bit because my father sold off family property for Magical Beast Meat, wheat, fine leather armor, and countless arrows. Now, everyone attributes this to my talent, and I find it quite vexing." Robson sighed, looking genuinely troubled by the matter.
This was actually what Robson needed. After all, the Mount & Blade system could only change a soldier's experience, not their physical constitution.
Previously, he had to rely on going out to buy military rations just to make sure his boys were well-fed, which was how they slowly transformed into a truly formidable army.
Viscount Fuman's eye twitched. 'Magical Beast Meat? Why don't you just say you used dragon meat? Could your own father even afford to eat Magical Beast Meat?'
"I can figure something out for the other things, but as for this Magical Beast Meat... to be honest, I haven't tasted it in a long time myself," Viscount Fuman countered.
His claim of not having tasted it was a lie, of course. In a state of war, even ordinary Knights were allocated Magical Beast Meat. But supplying it for 500 men was a difficult proposition, even for him.
Robson shrugged.
'So he's just a cheapskate. You should have just said you were broke from the start.'
Aside from the Magical Beast Meat, Ed could take care of everything else Robson had just mentioned. Since Viscount Fuman didn't want to bleed, there was no need for him to waste time with the man.
"Alas, if that's the case, I'll have to think of another way," Robson said, preparing to take his leave with a bow. It wasn't as if he was desperate for support.
"Ah, it may be difficult, but there are always ways," Viscount Fuman said urgently.
Robson was a blue-chip stock the Earl Clan had bet on. Fuman didn't want to let a surefire, profitable deal like this slip away so easily.
"While I don't have that much Magical Beast Meat, I do have quite a few beef cattle with magical beast bloodlines. It's just that..." Viscount Fuman trailed off, suddenly hesitant.
Robson knew these beef cattle would definitely come with strings attached.
"Is there some difficulty? If there's any way I can help, I will certainly do my best," Robson said.
'Dealing with these merchants is such a hassle. It was like this in my past life, and it's the same in this one.'
"To tell you the truth, I have a good-for-nothing son. He's only nineteen this year, but he keeps insisting on coming to the front lines. Alas, as you know, Sir, this place is full of flashing swords and flying arrows. It's no place to just get by," Viscount Fuman said, looking vexed.
Viscount Fuman's son had reached the age of military service this year, but he doted on his only son and wanted Robson to take him under his wing and protect him.
After all, the survival rate in an elite unit is always a little higher.
It wasn't just on this continent; it was the same in Robson's past life.
"You don't need to worry about that, my lord. Have him follow me, and I guarantee not a single hair on his head will be harmed," Robson readily agreed. 'Exchanging a deadweight for a viscount's friendship plus abundant supplies... no matter how you look at it, this deal is a win.'
"Then I thank you, Sir. Let's not waste any more time. Let's go in and get equipment for the lads," Viscount Fuman said with a chuckle.
Robson returned the smile and followed Viscount Fuman into the warehouse.
The moment he stepped into the warehouse, Robson's eyes lit up like searchlights.
Since he had the support of both Viscount Fuman and Count Offman, Robson certainly wasn't going to be polite with the logistics department.
Fine leather armor was a must. As for swords and blades, they naturally had to be the finest products from Shirek, the famous city of iron forging.
The shields had to be the Noah's Golden Tree Shield, made from gold, silver, iron, and hardwood, with a surface covered in Refined Iron.
He wouldn't ask for elven imports for the bows and arrows, but they had to be, at the very least, the Half-Enchanted Bow and Arrow produced by the bowyers of the Southern Vya Province, right?
As for wheat?
'Sorry, my men—Lord Robson's men—are a bit high-maintenance. They can only eat whole wheat bread. As for that black bread mixed with sawdust and wild grass? That's just horse feed.'
If Viscount Fuman's expression hadn't looked so grim, Robson would have actually asked for a few dozen horses as well.
But for the sake of Viscount Fuman's health, Robson gave up the idea. He, Lord Robson, had always been very concerned about his friends.
"A daily supply of 500 jin of the crossbreed beef will be sufficient, my lord Viscount. If possible, I'll also need the bones and offal. Of course, this is all for the sake of the kingdom," Robson couldn't help but add at the end. He was genuinely a little afraid Viscount Fuman would go back on his word.
Viscount Fuman's face was as black as the bottom of a pot.
"I will arrange it. You just rest assured," Viscount Fuman replied.
"Then I'll have to trouble you, my lord," Robson said with a smile, then turned and walked away.
A true gentleman knows how to grant a poor soul drowning in sorrow a graceful exit.