Starting the Strategy from Frieren

Ivan's original plan had been straightforward: retrieve the shell of the hero sword and use the Village of the Sword as a base for future expansion. However, the King's promise of a direct title made him rethink his strategy.

Granting him prime land seemed improbable—those territories had been divided ages ago. At best, he might receive a dilapidated domain or an active warzone, leaving little room or time for development. More realistically, they'd offer him an honorary title without land, excusing it with, "The land is already distributed."

If Ivan wanted to rise higher, he would need to make room at the top by creating a vacancy—starting with Viscount Hicks.

"Winry, what do you think of Viscount Hicks?" Ivan asked casually.

The village chief flinched, her face turning pale. "Why the sudden question?"

"Just tell me your honest opinion."

Winry hesitated, glancing around nervously before leaning in to whisper, "He's awful. His taxes are oppressive, but that's not the worst of it. He's notorious for his treatment of women—especially young, pretty commoners. Some were never seen again. Thankfully, we're remote, so he's never visited, but this time... I'm terrified he will."

Her small frame trembled as she spoke, her voice barely audible.

Ivan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Say no more. I get the picture. I'll be sure to prepare the largest bullet for him."

Winry gave him a weak smile, though it was clear his words only offered partial comfort. Ivan admired her resolve—despite her young age, she had run the village efficiently, a rare talent for leadership.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "Nothing will happen."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Ivan realized how empty they sounded. Words alone wouldn't calm her. Actions and a clear plan would.

"For now, let's focus on the immediate tasks. Leave the village as it is and concentrate on the roads. Widen them for carriages and patch up the potholes. Start as soon as you're done eating."

Winry nodded, but her half-hearted response showed her mind was elsewhere.

After lunch, Ivan left the chief's office and headed back to his lodging. Along the way, he greeted villagers and adventurers out for a stroll, exchanging polite nods.

Near the edge of the village, he ran into Martina, carrying a lunchbox. She froze when she saw him, looking visibly flustered.

"A-about last night," she stammered. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just wanted to thank you…"

Ivan smirked. "The way you're explaining it hurts, you know. Are you saying I don't have even a little charm? Do I look that bad?"

"N-no, that's not it!" Martina panicked, waving her hands. "I didn't mean to offend—ah, I'm sorry, I said something wrong again…"

"I'm kidding," Ivan said with a chuckle. "Don't take it so seriously. Where are you headed?"

"To the woods east of the village," Martina replied, lowering her head. "My father is chopping wood, so I'm bringing him lunch."

"I'm heading back to my room. Mind if we walk together? I have a question for you."

"Sure."

Martina followed a half-step behind him, more reserved than usual.

"Martina," Ivan began, "what do you know about Viscount Hicks?"

Her face instantly went pale, and she shook her head furiously. "I… I can't say."

Her reaction spoke volumes. Ivan didn't press further, instead steering the conversation toward lighter topics to ease her tension.

The calm didn't last long. As they neared Ivan's lodging, they found Felo, the plump herald, barking orders at a group of slaves to throw Ivan's belongings outside. Among them were gifts from the villagers and adventurers.

"Are you the one staying here?" Felo asked, looking down his nose at Ivan. "This room must be prepared for Viscount Hicks. We can't have trash cluttering it up."

Ivan's expression didn't waver. "Oh? Is the Viscount arriving early? It's my honor to give up my room for him."

"At least you're sensible," Felo said smugly. "His Majesty's carriage will bypass Leaf City and come straight here. Naturally, our noble Viscount Hicks will need to rest for two days to prepare for his audience with the King."

"I see," Ivan said smoothly. "When should we expect him? I'd like the chance to admire him in person."

"If he travels at his usual pace, he'll be here by evening," Felo replied, distracted. His attention had shifted to Martina.

"To think such beauty exists in this backwater village…" Felo sneered. "You, girl with the lunchbox. You'll serve as a maid for Viscount Hicks. There will be plenty of benefits for you."

Martina froze, her face draining of color. She knew exactly what "serving" meant. Trembling, she looked to Ivan, her eyes pleading.

"Why are you looking at me?" Ivan said nonchalantly. "Quick, hand the lunchbox to the herald. Let him taste whether it suits the Viscount's palate."

When Martina didn't move, Ivan gently took the lunchbox from her and handed it to Felo.

"If she can cook, she'd be better off in charge of meals," Ivan said with a smile. "That's a cushy job."

Felo opened the box, scooped up a spoonful, and shoved it into his mouth.

Thud!

The two-hundred-pound herald dropped like a stone, his body hitting the ground with a dull thump.

"Tsk," Ivan muttered, looking at the unconscious man. "Youth is such a blessing—falling asleep so easily."

Turning to Martina, who was still frozen in shock, he said, "Go home and stay with your father. Don't leave until I say it's safe."

"But…" Martina hesitated. "Won't this bring trouble? He's the Viscount's herald!"

"Don't worry," Ivan said, his lips curving into a warm smile. "I'll make sure Viscount Hicks has his mind opened—nice and wide."