I reincarnated as the Duke from the North.

I stepped out of my carriage, the Viscount trembling behind me, looking as if he had been brought to his own funeral.

“Why so scared? I ain't goin' to hurt you. We are just going to have a little chat.” That scared him even more. Funny.

I walked to the courtyard surrounded by dozens of my Osberg guards at attention. Three poor souls shiver in the cold. Roughened up, they glace at me and I see their world crash down with their teary eyes.

“Waited outside? For me little old me? How considerate of you.” I turn to my guard. “Well done. You managed to do this very simple task. But your debt is not fully paid. Not even fucking close. Seven a.m. on the eastern road. Come suited for monster extermination. I will be there. Understood?”

“Yes, your Grace.” They said in unison.

“And Private Kurt.”

I heard his uniform shuffle as he straightened. “You are promoted to Captain and immediately assigned as my bodyguard.” Mumbles and chatter spread amongst the men.

“I don’t remember asking you a lot for your opinion. Is that clear?”

“YES YOUR GRACE!”

“Good. Everyone but the mayor group is dismissed. Bring my guests to my office. Back to your posts! ” As the Officers moved to do as I ordered, Charles stood beside me.

“Bath?”

I smell myself. A fly came my way. “Instantly. But not you. Your job is to order the people whose job it is.”

Frightened maids curtsy to the entering guards before coming to me. Four lined up to bow to me. Their discipline returned as if they hadn't been ignoring me for years, chastising me behind my back. Maybe new maids should be the next on the list of things to get.

“Maids meet your new Bulter.” I gestured to my big friend. They side-eye each other under their bow. “Yes, I do mean new.” I looked at Charles.

“A bath for His grace. A-a-and arrange the master bedroom for his arrival, quickly!” Bows and curtsies and they fly-off to complete their order.

“Not bad. But sound a bit less whiney.” Charles blushed as I chuckled my way into my manor.

After handing over my great sword to be cleaned and polished, I took the blood-soaked cloak and garments off the ungodly smell of sweat fumed from me as I pulled off my shirt. Giving the drenched shirt to an unfortunate young maid to be washed with my other garments, I entered the Bathroom. Three maids await me. Bath steaming in the middle of the room, Maid stand by with soap and towels.

I kick off my muddy boots expecting them to leave. Not one move from their spot.

Ah. Fuck it. We ball.

Then I showed them my balls. Into the scathing water, I go. Instantly felt the aches in my back lessen, and my muscles relax. A maid washes my hair of gunk and the other washes my legs and body. Stress leaving my body through the warm water, I take the chance to check my status.

I click on Mobile Mediation. Although there are no exp points shone the bar increases whenever I work on a particular skill. In the case of Mobile Meditation, flowing my mana around my body while on the move is enough to increase my skill level. I exit and click on the Greystone Great Sword skill. Nearly there. I should practice before rest.

A knock on the door and I recognised the heavy sound.

“Grace. The ‘guests’ are asking when you will be coming.”

I exit the skill box. “Whenever the fuck I want.”

“Yes, you grace.” Then I hear footsteps walk away from behind the door.

Fucking ingrates. The fucking gall. They are lucky that I have treated them this kindly in my home. But that confidence, they got it from somewhere. The duchess. Growing her roots in my institutions so deeply has people mistaking her as the real authority In this duchy. But a weed cannot grow healthy on its own. The crown. The God-ordained sun of Friedland. Meddling around when trouble is afoot in their borders.

I sigh. One step at a time. I will figure this out.

I hope.

Cleaning and dressed in black breeches and a dark blouse, I forced the door open, startling the three kneeling visitors. A maid handed me a cleaned sword of Osberg and I levelled it at the mayor.

Letting a moment of silence pass, I decided what I must do.

“Embezzling. Misuse of city funds. Corruption.”

“Lies. ALL OF IT!” The silver-haired count shouted, kneeling on my office carpet.

“Charles?” I asked.

He gave me a piece of parchment.

“I did a bit of digging.” I looked through the ledger. “Eighty per cent hike on rations. Fifty on coal and wood.”

The old man's temper lessened. “The winter…”

“The rations are to be free to all. These are trying times.”

“Trying times make for desperate measures! We have the coming war to fund!”

“There’s a war in Hamber?”

The sliver hair count paled.

“I am aware of your various enterprises.” I bring my sword up.

“I saw a corpse on the way back here. A boy, not ready to hunt or fend for himself. Face gaunt, chest as bony as I once was.”

“I am not responsible for that boy's death!”

“Mmm. No Count Trak. You are responsible for thousands more.” My sword blurred. Steel cut from collarbone to the wood floor. A count flopped to the ground, huffing as blood oozed out onto the carpet.

My first kill. In this world.

I turn to the other guests, splattered with the count’s blood.

“Your turn.”

3 days untill Vanessa Arrives.