Maple tried to stay mad at that human, but couldn't.
If Konrad didn't send her on a survey, she might've forgotten she could take to the skies.
It had been some time.
She spent a century locked in a cave in the dark, unable to move or talk to anyone with more brain capacity than a worm. Now, she was the undisputed queen of the skies.
An empress, even.
Nothing could come close to touching her—but the world changed quite a bit.
It mattered little; it was hers to explore again.
Once she started flying in her dragon form, she refused to land. Ever.
The cold air was refreshing, the view amazing, and she glided high to avoid drawing attention.
No set destination, no hurry. If anything, Konrad wanted her gone for as long as possible.
It should have upset her, but since it meant this freedom—
She loved every second of it.
How did that kid draw a map this accurate from witness accounts alone? He had no wings, and while some forests shifted or areas had flooded, he was right on his money.
Her new master knew his shit.
Ugh. Master. She shook her head, letting the cold currents caress her face.
She was a dragon, not a servant. Nobody could boss her around.
Unlike the purple-eyed puppy girl, she was powerful. Not as a greater demon or an angel, but—
"Get your head out of the gutter, Maple," she scolded herself, flapping her wings.
They generated enough lift to glide for minutes at a time—and for the spirits, she missed it.
"Why even go back?"
A valid question, until she remembered how it felt when Konrad's mana poured into her.
The bliss of the freedom that he had brought for her.
It was not supposed to work that way. Mana transfers were pleasant, sure, but that boy spiced it up somehow. She was willing to bet he had no idea how, either.
The mad necromancer girl must've felt it too, and it made Maple a bit jealous.
That poor soul was so confused—but it also explained why even semi-deities fawned over him.
She didn't know Konrad's full story yet, but she wanted to stick around to find out.
Plus, if her hunch were right—she'd get her revenge, too.
For now, she was alone in the sky, flying high.
She started south, as opposed to what he asked of her, working her way north at a steady pace.
No sleep was necessary; her eyes worked fine at night anyway, and she felt no exhaustion while flying. The silver mine he told her about should have been nearby now.
She couldn't see it yet, but noticed an enormous nest on one of the higher peaks instead.
Whatever made it didn't bother to hide.
"Ballsy," she noted. "It's too big for eagles, and too careless for anything weaker."
Her curiosity tingled, and she took a steep dive to check it out.
The air rushing against her scales felt great, and she closed her eyes for a long moment.
Again, she was the ultimate bird of prey. There was nothing that could threaten her while she had her fun. But the sharp pain when talons scraped her back brought her to her senses fast.
***
"This is how the fiefs look now," Konrad announced, projecting an illusion above his head.
This time, he used vivid colors to demarcate borders and important roads in the duchy.
It was disgusting.
An inconsistent mess of enclaves, exclaves, disputed territories, and no logic whatsoever.
"What I propose is closer to this," he said, and the colors shifted.
His fragmented territories consolidated into one piece between Halaima and the northern mountains. Dozens of colorful individual fiefs became larger and more centralized as well.
The mountain range that shielded the entire country lost its color, marked as tribal land.
Neat, orderly, efficient—but the crowd's murmurs didn't sound encouraging at all.
"Why would we agree to this?" a noble asked, whom Konrad hadn't met before. "This would take away my best quality lands and who knows what kind of swamp I'd get in return."
If the merchants who filled half the temple were a tough crowd, his vassals were way worse.
The peddlers sent smart people to represent themselves.
Now, every noble family had to attend, and they all came with their retainers.
Well, at least they did show up, filling the main hall to the brim.
They didn't care about the same logic that motivated Konrad, though.
"I made sure that every land-swap is of comparable quality," he said, having come prepared. He spent countless hours reading through land surveys and documents proving ownership.
He even included them in the floating illusions.
"The Church culled many families, and the king transferred their lands to me. But with the population halving under the Inquisitor, I can't cultivate them. It's pointless to keep everything."
"Sounds like a problem for you, my lord. Has nothing to do with us," a noble complained.
"On that map, I'd lose my seat of power for a backwater village," another noted.
"Who even came up with this nonsense?"
They didn't like change, that was for sure.
Luckily, he invited Helena this time, too, and the princess intervened.
"I provided Lord Halstadt with the documents from the king and the Church's archives. I can assure you all that each of you would gain more land than you own now. Closer together, too."
While this still didn't seem to convince them, they couldn't exactly boo a royalty.
Konrad took the opportunity to explain his point.
"More than two-thirds of the lands lay empty now, for the lack of labor. They are all scattered and hard to reach—and some hold dangerous beasts or tribes outside my control."
He changed the illusion to show land in current use and what hasn't seen harvests in years.
Most of the exclaves were in the latter category, and not even the nobles could argue with that.
"I don't mind compensating you from my own lands. I want strong vassals, not dependent ones. But the borders I propose will shield you from the nomads, too," he argued.
"And why would the tribes even get that much territory? Why not move them into our towns?"
A valid question, and Konrad considered it, too, but knew Nimrod better than to pitch it.
The tribesmen loved their freedom, and if they wanted to become feudal, they would've done so long ago. But answering the question was at least easy.
"When the Church took over and the nobles became hostages, they alone resisted."
The map changed once again, comparing old tribal lands with their current extent.
And the amount he proposed—more or less the same as what they had in his father's era.
"Most of these lands are either under my control or are worthless. It has mountains and forests. No good arable lands. The one thing valuable there is a silver mine, and it's my own."
"Lord Erwin loved their kind, too, and look where it got us," a noble spoke up, arguing.
"Lord Erwin lost to the Church, and as I said, only the tribes resisted them until now," he snapped back. "Besides, if we squeezed them like the Inquisitor did, they'd go out of control."
In his father's time, there was no banditry on the highways.
The tribes had their land to live off, and didn't have to steal.
But it wasn't that simple to convince everyone, while his mind started to wander, too.
He thought of that silver mine. With that back in his hand, he wouldn't have to bother with lands and pacifying nobles. It was a literal money mine. But did Maple find it yet?!