Taking the initiative to request command of the troops was a move Hudson felt forced to make. War was imminent, and there was no way he could avoid it.

  If he tried to flee at this critical moment, he would likely be intercepted halfway and forcibly conscripted into the army as cannon fodder.

  Although they hadn’t spent much time together, Hudson had a decent understanding of Baron Redman. His political skills were barely passable, but his military acumen was a disaster.

  Analyzing his past battles, Hudson concluded that the baron was a "knight" who had survived purely by luck. His longevity wasn’t just due to personal strength but also because his enemies were of a simir caliber. They would agree on a time, set up their formations, and then charge headlong into battle with their followers.

  Strategy and tactics? Those concepts seemed entirely foreign to the baron.

  Still, Hudson couldn’t afford to look down on him. This was simply how warfare was conducted in these times—raw strength over strategy, brute force over cunning.

  This was bad news for Hudson. If he followed his father onto the battlefield, he would inevitably be thrust into brutal, close-quarters combat.

  As an inexperienced knight, Hudson wasn’t eager to face life-and-death struggles. Noble honor meant nothing to him—only survival mattered.

  If he had to fight, he wanted his subordinates to go first. As long as they were slightly better than the rebels, that would suffice.

  The burden of crushing the rebellion could fall to their allies. He would step in once the battle was going well, and if it turned against them, he simply needed to outrun his comrades.

  Making a name for himself among the nobility and familiarizing himself with the battlefield would be enough. Any military achievements along the way would be a welcome bonus.

  Crisis and opportunity went hand in hand. A meteoric rise was too risky, and Hudson, knowing his limits, wasn’t ready for such a gamble.

  However, he had underestimated the complexity of the situation. If Baron Redman were so easily maniputed, he would have been outmaneuvered long ago.

  There were certainly fools among the noble offspring, but unless they belonged to exceptionally powerful families, most didn’t survive long.

  The apparent simplicity of the battlefield was a reflection of the broader social structure. In such an environment, even the most foolish had to develop some level of cunning to survive.

  In the end, Baron Redman praised Hudson’s initiative but neither accepted nor rejected his request to lead the troops.

  Returning to his room, Hudson felt a sense of despair. Words could be deceiving, but body nguage often revealed the truth. While Baron Redman had spoken kindly, the look in his eyes held deep distrust.

  It was understandable. A sixteen-year-old suddenly volunteering to lead men into battle? No father would be at ease with such a request.

  Especially when it involved taking five hundred able-bodied men to war. The Coslow family wasn’t wealthy enough to afford such an expensive lesson.

  More importantly, this enemy was different—a rebel force that sughtered nobles without hesitation. The usual rules of noble warfare meant nothing to them. Expecting them to py fair was naive.

  Late at night, Baron Redman y awake in bed. The conversation with Hudson weighed heavily on him.

  Having spent half his life navigating noble circles, he knew the darkness that lurked beneath their gmorous facade. For the sake of power and profit, there was little nobles wouldn’t do.

  But if Hudson’s deductions were correct, what stance should he take?

  Ultimately, the Coslow family was still too weak. Their numbers and influence might intimidate minor nobles, but they were no match for the great houses.

  "Should I really just go through the motions?"

  That went against the spirit of knighthood.

  After all, in every war he had fought, he had always led from the front. His bravery was well known within a hundred miles.

  He didn’t want to tarnish his reputation, but neither did he want to become cannon fodder. Torn between these two conflicting thoughts, Baron Redman spent the night sleepless.

  By morning, news of the conscription had spread throughout the castle. Servants whispered in the corridors, and the guards murmured among themselves. Everyone was talking about it—except for Lesuer.

  Since his failed attempt to obtain the life essence, Lesuer had been in a terrible state, much to the baroness’s concern.

  "Lesuer, try to look on the bright side," she coaxed. "Your father is in a difficult position. This incident has caused too much of a stir. He has to make a gesture, otherwise—"

  "Enough!" Lesuer snapped, cutting her off. "This is just to appease those bastards, isn’t it? Wasn’t the previous punishment enough? Does he have to kill me too?"

  His voice trembled with frustration. "We’re all part of the Coslow family. Why am I treated as less than the others? Just because I was born ter?

  Not only do I have to wait in line for inheritance, but even resources are prioritized for them! It’s so unfair! It’s—"

  The baroness had heard this compint countless times, but the rules were absolute. There was nothing she could do to change them.

  She knew Baron Redman treated all his sons equally. In fact, her own children had received more care due to her influence. Even so, she couldn’t fully accept the unfairness of the system.

  No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t change the order of inheritance. It meant the family estate would never belong to her sons.

  She had once come to terms with this reality, but seeing Lesuer so distraught reignited her resentment.

  Perhaps out of frustration, she suddenly spped him across the face. "Enough, Lesuer!"

  Her voice was sharp. "How many times have I told you? You can’t just say whatever you want! If your father hears this, he might expel you from the family!

  You’re not even a knight yet. If you’re disowned, you won’t even be a noble anymore. Do you want to be cast out among the commoners, struggling just to survive?"

  Though she resented the situation, the baroness knew how difficult it was to attain noble status. No matter how much she doted on her son, she understood that some words were too dangerous to speak aloud.

  Lesuer scoffed. "Even if... what difference does it make now?"

  His eyes burned with frustration. "He’d rather give the life essence to an outsider than his own son. Can I really expect him to get another one for me? Even if he wanted to, he probably doesn’t have the means.

  That bastard Hudson was deyed for a year. What chance do we have? You know the rules—after fulfilling the empire’s obligations, the barony can only exchange for one life essence every ten years."

  The moment the words left his mouth, he saw his mother’s expression darken.

  He had made another foolish mistake.

  He wasn’t her only child. He had two younger brothers. Now that Hudson was about to establish himself, the competition for resources would shift to the three of them.

  And no matter how much she loved him, could the baroness still afford to unconditionally support him?