Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 508 - 508 240 Triumph

508: Chapter 240: Triumph 508: Chapter 240: Triumph When they set out, there were one hundred and twenty-one men.

When they returned, there were one hundred and six men, along with fifteen bodies of fallen warriors.

Yet the losses did not dampen the morale of the Knights’ soldiers, not only because of the honor brought by victory but also due to the substantial rewards they received.

Leon understood clearly that building a disciplined and elite army couldn’t rely solely on empty rhetoric to constrain soldiers—it would be nothing but a pipe dream.

Without tangible benefits as positive reinforcement, relying solely on strict military rules would only backfire over time.

Moral education and a sense of honor aren’t useless, but trying to instill such ideas in the mostly illiterate soldiers at this time is premature.

Warriors step onto the battlefield in this era, risking their lives fighting with swords and spears for wealth, power, and the chance to propagate…

Soldiers pillage, plunder, and burn villages, but their motives are no different.

If that’s the case, one must address the root cause—ensuring that the warriors under one’s command receive full pay and rations, and that rewards and punishments are clear.

Only then can compliance with military discipline become a proactive behavior that enhances personal interests, while indulgent acts of pillage and killing become detrimental to those same interests.

This time, after achieving a glorious victory, there was no chance Leon would keep the glory solely for himself.

Though the distribution of spoils of war and rewards by Lords to soldiers had no fixed rules, only vague proportions, how much the soldiers received depended largely on whether the Lord and commanders were generous or stingy.

However, when the Avalon Knights were first established, the six-member inner council had already set up a military merit and reward system within the order.

For a major victory like the Battle of Ustato, every warrior receives a victory bonus equal to their entire annual salary.

Additionally, for each knight who bravely fell in combat, their family will receive three years’ worth of the deceased’s salary as consolation, along with certain tax reductions and educational privileges.

Such benefits within the Knights’ order were detailed and straightforward; for instance, 2,652 gold crowns were quickly and decisively distributed into the hands of the soldiers.

But these were simply rewards for victory and not part of the military promotion system.

Financial incentives could boost morale and loyalty but still failed to forge the core spirit of why one fights.

Why do knights and vassals serve their monarch until death?

Country, nation, race, justice?

For most commoners of this era, such concepts are too distant and abstract.

The simplest and most direct motive for combat is, in fact, land.

To fight for one’s own land.

Within the Knights’ order, there is a basic system of military merit-based land grants being trialed.

Roughly speaking, a common freeman soldier who kills an armored enemy on the battlefield will be promoted to the rank of “Sergeant” within the Knights’ order and awarded an amount of land equivalent to twenty mu from Leon’s past life, one mu of residential land, and corresponding prize money.

A soldier who kills five armored enemies will be promoted to “Senior Sergeant,” with the land grant increased to fifty mu and residential land to two mu.

A soldier who kills ten armored enemies will be knighted by Leon as a “Knight” within the order, akin to an Inner Court Knight in family estates, like Zabron and others, completing a leap in social class.

Their land grant increases to one hundred mu, residential land to four mu, their diet standards improve, and they gain various other benefits.

If a soldier demonstrates extraordinary bravery on the battlefield and kills more than twenty armored enemies,

unlike the previous three levels where the land grants resemble those held by freemen,

Leon will directly confer upon them the rank of “Feudal Knight,” awarding them a territory of no less than 800 mu, making them true minor Lords.

Leon wasn’t worried about having insufficient land to distribute—he worried more about not being able to give it all away.

Presently, he held vast tracts of uninhabited frontier lands, with 90% of them being untapped and unmanaged.

They lacked populations and talent to transform them.

Even if, in the future, the Knights’ force reached its full complement of 500 soldiers, and every one of them achieved the merits required for promotion to Feudal Knight, it would only divide half of Leon’s territories.

Besides, with this battle, his dominion expanded by another forty percent…

Leon mused, his gaze landing on the leather scroll hanging beside the luggage on the wagon.

Lord Eriv seemed to have received some news and feared Leon might be taken away by the King.

Granting a new territory should logically be finalized after returning, but Eriv had hurriedly drafted it within Ustato Territory and handed it to Azeryan for safekeeping instead.

It was worth noting that Leon was still bedridden and unconscious at the time—there was even some probability of his death.

However, Leon was curious.

If he truly had perished earlier, how would his lands be handled?

Without any blood relatives or heirs, under his understanding of the Orland Kingdom’s noble laws, there were two possibilities.

One, the Sealing Lord reclaims the land.

Two, someone like Olivia, recognized as his legitimate betrothed, might have some chance to inherit his noble title and land.

The former possibility was certainly higher, but it wasn’t excluded that Count Eriv, considering their bond and Leon’s merits, might choose the latter approach.

Especially since Olivia wasn’t just his fiancée, but also a knight who held a legitimate title.

But this was Eriv.

If it were the Thorny Flower Young Master, who inexplicably harbored significant prejudice against him?

Leon raised his hand, channeling magic power into the box preserving the severed arm to maintain its low temperature, deep in thought.

This time, he didn’t die, but what if both he and Count Eriv perished in a future war?

The successor, Feao’s Young Master, was unlikely to make decisions like his father.

Even if he didn’t reclaim everything, he’d seize the chance to take most of the land.

Unless Olivia was his “legal wife” in the true sense, rather than merely his “fiancée” by engagement.

No wonder the issue of heirs was so critical to ancient ruling groups.

He shook his head, sighing that the lack of experience among his brothers had left them indifferent to his current lack of heirs or a family.

If he had seasoned political advisors, they’d likely be on the verge of panic over Leon not yet setting a date to marry Olivia.

A monarch without heirs often meant a military-political power teetering on the brink of collapse.

“Marriage…”

Closing his eyes, he couldn’t help but envision Olivia gracefully dressing him in her wedding gown…

A smile of happiness touched Leon’s lips—it was indeed time to consider the date.

Previously, he hadn’t felt urgency, primarily because he hadn’t expected to encounter life-threatening danger so soon.

Now, reflecting on it, the fear lingered.

If he had died before marrying her, it would’ve truly haunted him in the grave.

Raising his gaze, Leon looked toward Avalon with yearning in his eyes.

He glanced sideways at Azeryan, the chief steward by the wagon, who was humming a Seryan folksong and gazing far into the River Valley, seemingly lost in thoughts of his beloved as well.

This lad’s wedding date with Miss Raya was set to coincide with the Illaril Ascension Festival, just over a month away.

…

The procession returning to Avalon Castle moved slowly.

The injured griffin, along with other wounded knights—including Leon—greatly slowed their march.

Fortunately, by the time the sun had fully set, they had crossed the town area and reached the castle’s gates.

Using the carriage frame to rise, Leon spotted the gathering of people outside the fortress who had come to welcome them after receiving the Scout Riders’ notifications.

Amid them, his gaze quickly found Olivia, whom he had been longing for.

Without her armor, Olivia knew Leon preferred seeing her in a dress.

Her carefully groomed golden hair cascaded as she donned her rarely worn white blouse and blue skirt, leaving her sword entrusted to Treya at her side.

“…Leon.” Upon seeing his familiar figure in the carriage, the lingering worry in her heart vanished.

Before the carriage came to a full stop, Leon leaped down and walked toward the young woman who was dashing to meet him.

“I’m back.” Embracing the girl tightly in his arms, Leon lowered his head to inhale her familiar fragrance.

However, the moment Olivia clung to him, her body stiffened.

She leaned back slightly, raising her hand in a frantic motion to touch the empty fabric of Leon’s cloak.

Pain filled her emerald eyes, impossible to suppress.