No money. No food.
So what now?
Starving was out of the question. The only option was to go borrow from the neighbors.
Strictly speaking, Frostholm Barony had no real "neighbors." To the north lay nothing but endless winter. To the south, you'd have to pass through forests and swamps before reaching the other nobles of Northwindshire.
But as things stood, they were the only neighbors within reach.
"Send Darren and Arnold to see me."
Soon, Captain Darren and the carpenter Arnold appeared before Ronan. He looked first to Darren.
"I'll give you twenty men. Take them and the other trainee knights and hunt in the area. Try to bring in as much meat as you can before the cold fully sets in."
Then he turned to Arnold.
"I know your people have a knack for planting. I'm not asking for miracles—just try to grow any fast-maturing crops. I don't care what they are, as long as they're edible and filling."
"As you command."
Both men left, visibly excited.
This was their first taste of real authority in the barony.
Lastly, Ronan's eyes fell on Brandon.
"Brandon, gather all the knight squires. You and I are going to visit our neighbors in Northwindshire."
Brandon moved quickly. By the time Ronan descended from Rhinestone Peak, Brandon and thirty squires were already assembled and waiting.
Looking at the disorganized group, Ronan frowned.
He turned around, climbed up onto a large rock, and roared:
With the voice of a true knight—loud and commanding—Ronan shouted:
"Look at you! Do you think this looks like a proper army? You look like a bunch of mud-legged peasants!"
"Now! Immediately! Five rows, six columns—form up!"
As he began a countdown from ten, Ronan drew Roland's iron sword and moved to the side of the formation.
"I only want to see straight lines before my eyes!"
When he reached the third row, he pointed the sword at a youth whose head stuck out of formation.
"Ray, Simon…"
He named six individuals in total.
"You trying to make it look like we have more people than we actually do?"
Then Ronan turned to the rest.
"If you can beat them in combat, each of you gets a gold coin."
"If you can't… when we get back, every last one of you will be hauling stones!"
For knight squires to be sent to do slave labor was not just a physical punishment—it was a humiliation of their dignity.
The six named flushed red with anger.
Currently, Frostholm Barony had no slaves.
Losing face in front of commoners was unthinkable.
Unsurprisingly, six versus twenty-four ended in a swift defeat.
"Five… Four…"
Ronan's chilling countdown echoed like the devil's whisper.
No one dared waste another second.
When the ranks were finally straight and clean, Ronan nodded in satisfaction.
In the army, nothing is more important than discipline.
"One person makes a mistake—the whole team pays the price.
Remember, you'll be marching into battle. If you can't even work together now, you'll all die out there."
"I don't want you dying in battle—especially not as my personal guard. That would mean dying right in front of me."
His voice was cold, but beside him, Bernard's eyes burned with admiration.
A noble who spent his days indulging and exploiting peasants was common.
A noble who knew how to delegate, recognize talent, and finish what he started—that was rare.
But a noble who could do all that and understand military command?
That was a noble worthy of eternal legacy—a star in Solar Empire history.
In that moment, Bernard seemed to glimpse the future rise of Frostholm Barony… and the birth of a glorious House Reed.
Looking at the now-properly formed knight squires, Ronan nodded once again.
"Move out!"
The decision had been made just moments ago. The plan was rushed—but Ronan wasn't concerned.
The reason was simple: this was Northwindshire, a land annexed by the Solar Empire only decades ago, and one that remained in a state of constant chaos.
How chaotic?
Well, imperial law strictly prohibited nobles from attacking each other's territories.
And yet, Northwindshire had seen no fewer than ten open, large-scale clashes between noble armies.
Every time things got too intense, other nobles would step in to stir the waters and force things to settle—but the fact these battles even occurred showed how fierce the region was.
And that was just on the surface.
Behind the scenes, it was even more lawless.
And yet, strangely, in all those years, not a single noble had ever been killed.
Even barons who lost everything were always allowed to return home, alive and intact—so they could continue lording over their serfs.
In addition to noble rivalries, the region also housed indigenous aristocrats—those from the old Duchy of Northern Wind, which existed before the Empire's conquest.
After Duke Morgans took the province, the former ruling family was relocated to Aurelia, never again allowed to take a single step outside.
The remaining minor nobles had scattered—some pledging loyalty to the Solar Empire early, others becoming wandering nobles seeking new fiefdoms in the southern kingdoms.
Some died in war.
But others became rebels, turning into bandits in a bid to reclaim their old lands.
Ronan suspected the assassins who once tried to kill him came from this last group—remnants of Northern Wind.
Worse, someone within the Empire may have contacted them, offering to restore their titles in exchange for killing him.
Otherwise, why attempt to assassinate an imperial noble, personally granted a barony by the royal family?
Such a risk made no sense—unless the reward was immense.
To the Empire's southern provinces, Northwindshire was seen as poor and cold.
But those who lived there knew better: it wasn't poor—it was cold and chaotic.
Nobles were never poor.
They'd find every way imaginable to squeeze wealth from their people and slaves.
And Northwindshire was rich in mineral resources—only its lawlessness made mining inefficient.
To extract more from the land, many nobles drove their slaves to death in the mines.
When slaves ran out, they forced freemen to dig.
This was why so many escaped slaves ended up in the swamps and forests near Frostholm Barony.
And even then, those who escaped were a minority.
Most never dared flee.
Even if their lords forced them to mine day and night with barely any food, they would not dare run.