Chapter 81: Army

Raymond understood immediately because he had lived the Bronze version of the same lesson.

Becoming an 8-Star Bronze had increased his strength, speed, endurance, and mana enormously compared with the poisoned young noble whose body he originally inherited, but none of that had taught him when to move, how to read an opponent, or how to use those abilities correctly.

Gold Rank was that difference layered on top of an already massive physical transformation.

Silver mana was not merely less plentiful than Gold mana; it was qualitatively inferior in how the body handled it.

Raymond glanced toward Bram. "And Silas is only 3-Star Gold."

Bram nodded. "Correct."

Raymond then looked at Cassian. "While you are seven."

"Yes, Family Head."

Raymond was silent for a long while.

Jonathan finally changed tactics. Instead of continuing the rapid exchanges, he drew his sword back and concentrated mana along the blade until the pressure around him sharpened noticeably.

Silas’s expression changed for the first time, becoming more attentive.

Jonathan stepped forward and delivered a heavy descending cut, not a killing technique but close enough to one that the ground beneath him split under the force. Silas raised his blade and met it directly.

The collision produced a burst of displaced air that kicked dust and melting snow away from their feet. Jonathan’s arms visibly tightened. Silas’s did not.

For a heartbeat they remained locked, Silver mana pressing against Gold, and then Silas turned his wrist, shifted one foot, and broke Jonathan’s balance.

His shoulder struck Jonathan’s chest immediately afterward, not hard enough to injure him but powerful enough to send the Silver Knight sliding several meters backward.

Jonathan stopped himself, looked up, and found Silas’s blade already pointed toward his throat from a distance Silas should not have been able to cross that quickly.

"Enough," Raymond called.

Silas lowered his weapon at once. Jonathan remained still for a second, breathing harder than before, then sheathed his sword and walked back toward the group.

There was no anger on his face, only concentration and a certain reluctant respect.

Tristan immediately asked, "How bad?"

Jonathan glanced at him. "Worse from inside the fight."

That earned a quiet laugh from Garret.

Jonathan looked toward Silas again and continued, "He was reading my movements before I completed them. When I increased my mana, he increased just enough to stay ahead. I don’t think I forced him past half."

Silas answered from several steps away, "A little above half during your final strike."

Jonathan sighed. "That does not improve my mood."

Raymond looked toward the distant settlement while thinking about the Blackstone Ursar.

Eighteen Silver Knights had needed coordination, repeated injuries, environmental damage, and the creature already being worn down before they finally killed it.

At the time, Raymond had thought of the Ursar as terrifying because it was a Gold Rank beast. Now he understood the description was almosttoo simple.

Gold was not another rung on a smooth ladder. It was a wall. Bronze to Silver had already been enormous. Silver to Gold was another transformation, and the Ursar had possessed a Gold-ranked body combined with the natural durability and strength of a massive Magic Beast.

The fact that Althoff’s Silvers had brought it down at all suddenly felt less like something expected and more like an achievement he had underestimated.

On the return journey, Raymond began assigning roles. Cassian would serve as the primary strategic commander among the three Gold Knights and act as an adviser on large-scale warfare, but he would not replace Boris.

Boris remained responsible for Althoff’s conventional soldiers, guards, recruits, patrol organization, and territorial defense. Jonathan would continue coordinating the summoned Knight forces, with the Gold Knights placed under Raymond’s direct authority and cooperating with Jonathan depending on deployment.

Bram would serve as Althoff’s principal heavy-response asset, while Silas would focus on reconnaissance, pursuit, counter-infiltration, and elimination of high-priority threats when necessary.

Boris raised an eyebrow when Raymond explained the structure. "You could simply put Cassian above everyone. He is stronger than all of us."

Raymond shook his head. "Strength didn’t teach me how to fight when I became Bronze, and it doesn’t automatically teach someone how Althoff works. You and Jonathan built the defense through winter. You know the people, routes, walls, weak points, schedules, and everyone under you. I’m not throwing that away because someone with a higher rank walked through the gate."

Cassian gave a slight nod at that, while Boris studied Raymond for a moment before looking ahead again. "That may be the first sensible thing you have said all week."

Raymond frowned. "I promoted you emotionally five seconds ago."

"And now you have ruined it."

Back at the castle, Raymond led Boris and Jonathan toward one of the secured storage buildings that had previously held emergency grain.

The grain had already been moved to larger facilities, leaving enough empty space for what Raymond intended. Once the doors were locked and the guards outside dismissed and Boris and the others were left outside, he opened the Winter Vanguard Package and began withdrawing portions of it.

Crates and equipment racks appeared across the warehouse in orderly rows until the previously empty floor became crowded with armor, weapons, shields, packs, reinforced clothing, crossbows, and military supplies.

Boris stopped walking halfway inside.

Raymond checked the inventory. "Five hundred standard infantry equipment sets, two hundred heavy infantry sets, three hundred hunting and scout sets, one hundred military crossbows, twenty thousand bolts, ten Mana Signal Beacons, five mobile field medical stations, plus the barracks and training-ground blueprints."

Boris turned very slowly toward him. "How many men are you planning to equip?"

"Around a thousand, if we use everything."

Boris stared at the warehouse, then at Raymond, then back at the warehouse as though expecting the equipment to disappearif he ignored it long enough. "My Lord, we do not have an army of one thousand men."

"Correct."

"We barely had a proper army at all before winter."

"Also correct."

"And you are saying this like it is somehow my problem."

Raymond smiled.

Boris closed his eyes. "I hate that expression."

Raymond walked farther into the warehouse and rested one hand on a crate filled with identical helmets.

During winter, every able fighter had been whatever Althoff needed at that moment: guards became soldiers, hunters became scouts, refugees became militia, and summoned Knights filled every gap their strength allowed.

It had worked because survival did not leave room for elegance. Spring was different. Five thousand people now lived under House Althoff.

Fifteen hundred square kilometers belonged to the territory.

Roads, farms, merchant routes, new settlements, warehouses, and eventually an entire city would need protection.

An improvised militia had saved Althoff.

It could not defend what Althoff was becoming.

Raymond looked at Boris and Jonathan.

"We need an army."