The Imperial servants assigned to him were certainly skilled, leagues above Hans in terms of experience.
But William had never intended to select his retainers based on how well they could perform a servant's duties.
"Hans, remember this. You are my confidant. You are a vassal I trust and keep at my side. If someone mocks your capabilities, they're mocking me."
Hans remained silent.
"Your dignity is my dignity. If anyone dares to insult you, do not hesitate. Cut them down where they stand—I will forgive you."
A lump formed in Hans's throat, and he nodded, blinking rapidly to keep his eyes from watering.
A lord's unwavering trust—it was both a heavy burden and an indescribable warmth.
"Ian, you're appointed as the court alchemist. You might not have a proper lab yet, but I'll arrange for a workshop soon."
"A… a workshop?!"
Ian's entire body tensed with excitement.
This wasn't some secret hideout for makeshift experiments.
This was a fully equipped alchemy workshop, personally prepared by the Duke himself.
How far could he push the limits of potion refinement with such an environment?
Just imagining it made his heart race.
"And as for you, Sir Aizen—"
"I'll pass."
Aizen waved him off before he could finish.
"What could an old man like me possibly contribute? I plan to spend the rest of my days training Felicia."
William's lips curled slightly.
"Then at least take the title of military advisor. It's mostly honorary, so it won't be much trouble for you."
At William's insistence, Aizen sighed and relented with a faint smile.
To be honest, he had considered retiring completely, but refusing every kindness his benefactor offered wasn't exactly honorable either.
"I'd like Raymond to lead the Royal Guard. The guard doesn't exist yet, so it's a meaningless title for now."
"A more than generous title," Raymond admitted, a rare grin tugging at his lips.
He could already picture it—an elite force, each warrior clad in the armor stored beneath the throne room.
An entire guard unit outfitted in those weapons and armor…
Just imagining it sent a thrill through him.
"I'd appoint Felicia as a knight commander as well," William continued, "but forming another empty knightly order seems pointless. For now, you'll remain my personal bodyguard."
"That is exactly what I wanted."
Felicia gave a small nod, her expression calm.
As long as she could stay by William's side, the rest was irrelevant.
"And finally, Hugo."
"Y-Yes?!"
Hugo's voice cracked as he straightened up, tension stiffening his shoulders.
Gone was the usual carefree attitude—he looked as if he had been called to the gallows.
William chuckled.
"It's time to fulfill my promise."
Hugo's breath caught.
William's next words were clear and unwavering.
"As the rightful Duke of Asagrim, I hereby appoint Hugo as a knight. Your noble house shall bear the name Maien. From this moment forth, you are a noble and the head of House Maien."
The moment William finished speaking—Hugo's legs gave out, and he collapsed to the floor.
A knight.
The words were so intoxicating that Hugo felt lightheaded.
He, who had once been nothing more than a back-alley thug, had become a true knight and founded a new noble house.
It was difficult to tell whether this was reality or just a dream.
Hugo Maien.
Every time he repeated his new surname in his mind, his body trembled as if struck by lightning.
Never once had he doubted his lord.
Yet, he had far too many flaws of his own.
Even if his lord had failed to keep his promise, he would not have resented him—he had already come to terms with such an outcome.
"What are you doing?"
William's voice snapped Hugo out of his thoughts.
Realizing his lapse in etiquette, he hurriedly scrambled to his feet.
"M-My apologies! My legs gave out for a moment…"
"No, that's not what I meant."
William studied him with amusement.
"Why do you look like a man with no regrets? Are you satisfied just because you achieved an old dream? Are you planning to stop here?"
"...What?"
Hugo stared at him, dazed.
A rank above a knight… that meant nobility with a proper domain, did it not?
The other retainers, too, were taken aback by William's words.
"My lord, aiming higher is fine, but seeking a title right now is impossible."
"Why?"
"Why? Because we've lost contact with the Imperial Court."
Raymond's expression twisted in discomfort.
Regardless of rank, no noble could grant land to another without imperial approval.
Even if the land belonged to him, distributing it without permission was considered an act of treason.
After all, any lord who received land that way would owe their allegiance to their benefactor, not the Emperor.
"My lord, you hold two titles—the Duke of Asagrim and the Border Count—but even you would be committing a grave crime by granting land without imperial authorization."
William smirked.
"Then I simply need to reach a position where I can grant land however I please."
"I… don't believe such a position exists."
"There is one. A king."
Silence fell.
Every retainer in the room looked at him in utter shock.
And rightly so—since the founding of the Empire, no noble had ever been elevated to the rank of king.
The closest precedent was the vassal kings of conquered territories, who had been allowed to keep their thrones.
And now, William was openly declaring his ambition to become one.
"M-My lord, are you saying—"
"I'm not talking about rebellion, nor am I planning to threaten the Empire into submission. I'm simply saying that if the opportunity presents itself, I won't hesitate to take it."
William met each of his retainers' eyes with a piercing gaze.
"Remember this: times of chaos are the rarest opportunities to rise. This is the only time in history when centuries-old traditions can be overturned."
"..."
"When peace returns, everything will solidify once more. And when that happens, when will another opportunity like this arise? A hundred years from now? Two hundred?"
Perhaps by then, his house would have long since been destroyed, his name forgotten to history.
And he was supposed to be satisfied with what he had already achieved? To stop and be content?
The thought was laughable.
"I will climb as high as I can, until the day peace returns and locks everything in place once more. What about you?"
His retainers felt their hearts blaze with renewed determination.
They had always believed that history was shaped by giants, that they were merely those who followed in their wake.