Chapter 134: True Authority at the "Regimental Commander" Level

Xia Ya was ecstatic—beyond ecstatic.

Clutching the imperial decree that conferred his new title, his mouth hadn't closed for a full quarter of an hour. He chuckled heartily now and then, his expression alight with pride and glee—a perfect portrait of a petty man who had finally tasted success.

“Hmph, you scoundrel…” Rour couldn't stand it any longer and tried to retort, but before he could speak, Xia Ya shot him a glare. “Scoundrel? Hey! From now on, you should call me Baron! Ha ha ha, Baron! Lord Baron…”

A baron, indeed! With this decree, Lord Xia Ya was no longer a mere hillbilly, no longer a penniless hunter. He had transformed overnight into a nobleman.

Rour stared at him speechlessly, a murderous impulse stirring within him.

Damn it! I’ve fought tooth and nail for years—through gunfire, arrows, and death itself—only to earn the rank of viscount. This kid, not even twenty, had his first battle, got lucky by ambushing that Hastings fellow, and snagged a barony! His rank was just one step below mine?

No—actually, it wasn’t even just one step below.

What gnawed at Rour was this: though a viscount outranks a baron in theory, in practice it was far more complicated. There were two types of noble titles: life titles and hereditary titles.

Life titles were largely honorary—like Rour’s own viscountcy, which was for life only and could not be inherited. Such titles came with nominal land grants, but real control over those lands remained with the imperial government. Rour was technically the lord of his land, but he wielded no real authority there—he merely received a portion of the annual tax revenue. He had no say in governance or military matters.

Hereditary nobles, however, were entirely different. Some conservative factions in the empire even insisted that only hereditary nobles were the “true” aristocracy.

Hereditary titles passed down through generations, granting real control over their lands, including appointing officials, managing governance, levying taxes beyond those imposed by the empire, enacting local laws, and even maintaining private armies, which were considered personal property immune to imperial interference.

Simply put, a hereditary noble governed a state within a state.

And what made Rour envious was that his viscountcy was a life title, while Xia Ya’s barony was hereditary. In practical terms, the barony far surpassed his own title.

After Rour explained the distinctions between these noble titles, Xia Ya grew even more excited.

“So… that means in my own land, I’m like a little emperor? Lawless, tyrannical, no one dares to challenge me?”

Rour gave several examples of power-hungry nobles abusing their authority, such as a lustful lord who decreed the “right of the first night”—where every bride in his lands was to spend her first night with him. Xia Ya’s eyes widened, his pupils reddened.

“Hmph!”

Seeing Xia Ya’s dazed, longing expression, Rour gritted his teeth and decided to burst his bubble.

“You little hillbilly, don’t celebrate too soon! Though the emperor’s decree grants your title, it must still pass scrutiny. You think conferring a noble title is easy? There’s a lot of red tape. First, they verify your ancestors up to three generations, checking names, lineage, and bloodlines. Then they assess your own eligibility, examine your family history, and have court scholars and heraldry experts authenticate everything. Finally, they design your family crest. Don’t think you’re a noble just yet—you need a family emblem to prove it. Every step can be a deal-breaker. Even with the emperor’s decree, if the nobility council objects strongly, the emperor might rescind it.”

Xia Ya was dumbfounded.

“Check my ancestors? I’m an orphan! The old man found me in the wild! I don’t know who my real parents were.”

“And bloodlines? My family name was just made up by that old guy on a whim. Xia Ya Thunderbolt—like thunder on a rainy day?”

Seeing Xia Ya’s enthusiasm wane, Rour felt a small satisfaction. These verifications were once rigorous, but with the empire’s current political climate, the nobility council was largely symbolic. The emperor’s word was law, and these checks were mostly a formality.

Still, Rour didn’t want Xia Ya to get too comfortable.

“The emperor’s decree isn’t just about your barony,” Rour continued, “There are three parts, and the last two are more valuable!”

The decree contained three grants:

First, Xia Ya Thunderbolt was granted the barony, pending approval by the imperial noble council.

Second, due to his outstanding battlefield performance, Xia Ya was appointed Military Commander of Mor County and concurrently Governor of Danzel City.

Mor County lay on the northern border of the empire, a fertile area with bustling border trade. Danzel City, not far from the border, was the site of the temporary military headquarters during the recent war against the Odin.

Xia Ya was pleased that this place was close to his “hometown,” Wildfire Plain, and Danzel was only two days’ ride from Wildfire Town.

Rour elaborated, “Mor County is an important frontier region, rich in grain and border trade. It’s a good post few covet because it’s always the first to feel the brunt when the Odins attack.

“Under the Byzantine imperial system, local governance separates civil and military powers. The highest civil official is the county governor, while the military leader is the county’s Military Commander. Generally, these two roles operate independently.

“Military Commanders usually hold the rank equivalent to a regiment commander. Based on your battlefield achievements—especially wounding Hastings and killing an Odin prince—you’ve jumped from a cavalry captain (a junior officer) directly to a regiment commander, skipping multiple ranks. That’s a huge leap!

“Normally, even if you got promoted to this rank, you’d only hold a titular post with no real command, maybe assigned to logistics or support. If you wanted to lead troops, you’d only get a battalion command at best.

“But the emperor appointed you as Military Commander of the county, a rank with real power! This post commands more influence than leading a regiment in a regular standing army.

“Mor County’s local defense consists of about two to three thousand troops, not as well trained or equipped as the central army—more like militia. But as Military Commander, you also oversee local patrols, security forces, tax inspectors, and logistics. Altogether, you control roughly seven to eight thousand personnel!

“Wait, there’s more!

“You know the empire’s militia system has been in place for over a century. In many regions, including Mor County, farmers also serve as part-time soldiers—farming in peace, fighting in war.

“Once mobilized, Mor County can call up over twenty thousand of these militia troops! Though their combat skills aren’t top-tier, their numbers and morale on home turf compensate.

“So, theoretically, your command of local forces numbers over thirty thousand—more than a full division! I’m a general commanding a division of twenty thousand, but you, at a regimental rank, command three times that.

“Moreover, you have control over all county-level logistics—manpower, materials, finances—far exceeding mine as a purely military officer.

“You’ve become a powerful regional lord with real authority.

“Plus, the emperor appointed you Governor of Danzel City as well. You have both military and civil authority there—a sign of imperial favor or a test. Danzel is part of Mor County, so your military command extends there, and now you have political power too. In Danzel, you’re the king.”

After Rour’s explanation, Xia Ya finally grasped the gravity of his new position.

Though the rank was technically regimental, the actual power was immense. This was a meteoric rise!

Compared to the hereditary barony, this military command was far more valuable. A barony might only cover a small town, but this command practically handed him an entire county’s military power.

Seeing Xia Ya’s joy, Rour smiled and said, “But if you think that’s the most valuable, wait till you hear the third grant!”

“…Huh?” Xia Ya was stunned.

More valuable than barony and county command?

The third grant was simple, almost perfunctory:

“Confer upon Xia Ya Thunderbolt the title of ‘Court Warrior.’”

“The key is the ‘Court’ part,” Rour sighed and frowned. “Kid, you really need to learn how the empire’s systems work. The ‘Court’ title isn’t just a meaningless honor—it’s highly regarded among nobility. Even if you weren’t a noble, having a court title would make many nobles treat you as an esteemed guest.

“Traditionally, possessing a court title grants a privilege—one that’s highly coveted.”

“What privilege?” Xia Ya asked.

“Permission to petition an audience with His Majesty,” Rour said solemnly. If not for his serious tone, Xia Ya might have thought he was joking.

“Petition the emperor? What kind of privilege is that?”

“Hmph. Those closest to the emperor wield the most power. Being frequently seen by His Majesty draws his attention and opens doors for favor. But think: with thousands of nobles—from knights to dukes—if everyone rushed to petition the emperor, even if he never ate or slept, he couldn’t see them all.

“So, the right to petition the emperor is a privilege. Except for palace guards and court officials, most nobles and officials can only see the emperor if summoned. Otherwise, they can’t even request an audience.”

Rour pointed to himself. “Even I, a viscount and a general, can’t request to see the emperor. Only when His Majesty calls me do I appear. Understand?”

“But holders of court titles can petition at will.”

Xia Ya scoffed, “Hmph. It’s just permission to apply. If the emperor doesn’t want to see you, you’re out of luck. So what kind of privilege is that?”

Rour smiled, looked Xia Ya in the eye, and said earnestly, “You’re smart, but too young and ignorant of imperial systems. You should find a teacher soon. You’re right—the emperor can refuse your petition. But the very right to petition marks you as ‘His Majesty’s person.’ Got it? That’s the true meaning of a court title. Others will see you as ‘His Majesty’s man.’”

Xia Ya was silent, lowering his head to ponder, then sighed.

“You nobles are so complicated. I can’t imagine how you live your lives with all these convoluted rules. Doesn’t it tire you out?”

Rour shook his head quietly. “Kid, that’s why these three grants—each more important than the last—surprised me so much. The emperor’s trust and favor in you are unprecedented. But I worry that such favor isn’t easy. He gave you the military command of Mor County to test you. If you perform well, you’ll rise far beyond me. If not, this command can be revoked with a simple decree.”

Xia Ya tucked away his laughter, grew serious, and after a long pause, smiled lightly.

“Why fear it? I had nothing before. If I mess up, I’ll just go back to being a demon hunter. No… wait, I still have a baron’s title and land. At worst, I’ll live off that and be a country lord.”

Rour sighed, looking at Xia Ya’s clear, open eyes.

This strange boy—was he truly calm, or simply without ambition? Anyone else given such imperial favor would be raring to prove themselves.

They had discussed for some time, unaware that night had fallen.

Rour perked up to explain more about the Military Commander’s authority when a hearty laugh came from outside.

“You fat rabbit! We agreed to eat together tonight, but you made me search high and low! Rour, where are you hiding? Come out!”

A few of Rour’s guards pushed open the door, leading in a man—none other than Green.

Green froze upon seeing Rour and Xia Ya, then laughed and scolded, “Rour! You said we’d drink tonight; I waited for you at the academy for ages. When you didn’t show, I came looking for you. Your guards told me you were here, so I tracked you down!”

Rour slapped his forehead and laughed. “Ah! I nearly forgot! Sorry, sorry. This kid was suddenly struck by a blessing from the heavens. I was busy coaching him and completely forgot our plans.”

Green and Xia Ya had met briefly at the military headquarters a few days before, so they recognized each other. Green nodded at Xia Ya and took a chair without hesitation.

“Oh? What blessing from the heavens?” Green asked.

Xia Ya liked Green, having heard Rour recount the mad dog general’s exploits—especially the tale of holding a small town with two thousand ragged troops against the eastern border for a month. Xia Ya smiled warmly at him.

Rour held Green in high regard, believing him truly gifted but unlucky. He handed over the emperor’s handwritten decree to Green.

Green glanced over the document, inhaled sharply, and looked at Xia Ya with wide eyes.

After a quick scan, shock registered on Green’s face. He set down the decree and stared at Xia Ya. “You… you…”

Rour laughed. “I had the same expression when I first saw it.” He patted Green on the shoulder to bring him back to his senses.

Green stared at Xia Ya and blurted, “You’re not the emperor’s illegitimate son, are you?”

Xia Ya felt vexed. Did he really look like someone’s bastard?

Green studied Xia Ya for a long moment, then his eyes lit up with excitement. He jumped up and grabbed Xia Ya’s arm.

“Ah! You command a county’s military! Excellent! Excellent! A regimental local defense force, though lacking a bit… but better than nothing! Ha ha ha! Excellent! Excellent!”

Xia Ya was baffled by his laughter, but Rour immediately guessed Green’s intentions.

“Hmph. You mad dog, are you scheming to find a way to place your students under his command?”

Green laughed heartily again, then glanced oddly at Rour. “About placing my students… you promised me ten slots, Rabbit. That’s almost enough. As for Xia Ya, if you do me a favor, I have a few more good students to recommend—all qualified officers. If they graduate and get sidelined or corrupted by warlords, it’d be a waste of my efforts. Since Xia Ya commands a county’s military and has your favor, he must be capable. I trust him. My men in his hands will have a chance to shine.”

Rour nodded thoughtfully. “Right… Getting assigned to central standing armies is tough. Warlord factions have long seen the Academy’s graduates as nuisances. The military is controlled by those factions and won’t easily give real command positions to Academy graduates. But placing them in local defense forces is less of a concern; the military might be more lenient.”

Green seemed pleased and looked Xia Ya over several times. Suddenly, a strange expression crossed his face.

“Uh… I have an idea,” Green said, his gaze oddly intense. “Military Commander Xia Ya… do you happen to need a Deputy Regimental Commander? To wield real power, you’ll need an experienced assistant to help you.”

Rour slapped his thigh. “Right! Almost forgot this. This kid’s promising but inexperienced. Taking on such a big responsibility alone isn’t wise. He needs a seasoned deputy to support him properly.”

Rour looked at Green. “Do you have someone in mind? One of your prized graduates sidelined somewhere? Or an old friend?”

Green grinned and pointed to himself. “How about me?”

(To be continued)