115: Chapter 115 Every brain drain is a business promotion opportunity.

A flash of realization crossed Evelyn's ice-blue eyes. She bowed slightly and responded in a flat, emotionless voice, "Understood. I will adjust production priority to the highest level."

She was like a precision machine, receiving instructions and then executing them faithfully without ever asking why.

Levi appreciated this efficiency; it saved him a significant amount of time in explanations.

Watching Sir Kaelan's imposing back merge completely into the group of black-clad guards and hearing his first deafening roar, Levi withdrew his gaze and turned to walk toward the castle.

The early autumn wind carried a hint of chill, swirling fallen leaves on the ground and catching the hem of his robe.

This forest clearing would soon be transformed into a highly efficient soldier manufacturing factory.

And he needed to handle the follow-up procedures after this "raw material" was checked into the warehouse—turning a successful talent defection into a highly profitable marketing campaign.

Three days later, in the study on the second floor of the castle.

THUD!

With a heavy, muffled sound, an iron-gauntleted fist slammed heavily onto Levi's desk, which was crafted from high-quality ironwood.

The sturdy surface let out a groan, and fine dust jumped from the gap between the fist and the table from the impact.

Sir Kaelan's face was flushed red, his chest heaving violently like a bull trapped in a cage.

His gray eyes burned with fury as he glared fixedly at Evelyn, who sat opposite him.

"The third time! This is already the third time!" His voice was somewhat hoarse with rage. "My training plan has been rejected three whole times by you for bullshit reasons like 'budget exceeds by three percent' and 'table format does not comply with the fifth edition financial standards'!"

Evelyn sat there expressionless, not even lifting an eyelid.

She merely used her slender fingers to gently push back the somewhat crumpled parchment application, her cold voice sounding like the surface of a frozen winter lake.

"Director Kaelan, please watch your language. Every regulation in the Blackstone Territory exists for a reason. A budget overrun, whether by three percent or zero point three percent, represents a disorderly waste of resources. As for the formatting standards, they are to ensure every document can be quickly archived, retrieved, and audited; this is the foundation of process management. If you cannot even complete a standard budget application, I find it hard to believe you can manage the logistics of a squad."

"I am managing an army! Not a group of damn bookkeepers!" Kaelan's roar nearly took the roof off. "What I need is the best training equipment, the highest food standards, and the most efficient training grounds! These can all be converted into combat power! You merchants simply don't understand!"

Having spent half his life in the military, he was used to the absolute authority of the barracks.

As long as he believed it was right, one command was all it took for the quartermaster to find a way to make it happen.

When had he ever suffered the humiliation of being choked by financial figures?

From beginning to end, Levi had acted like an outsider. He sat quietly in the main seat, holding a cup of warm black tea, the curling steam blurring his expression.

He took his time blowing on it and then took a gentle sip.

The temperature of the tea was just right, carrying a hint of sweet fruity aroma.

Only when Kaelan's fury seemed to have reached its peak did he set down the teacup with a crisp clink, drawing the attention of both individuals.

"Director Kaelan," Levi's voice was calm, yet it possessed an unquestionable power. "Everything you said is correct. Better equipment and better food do indeed improve combat power. But, by how much? For this three percent budget overrun, what percentage of combat power increase do we gain? Can this increase cover our costs? Are there alternative solutions that are lower cost but have similar effects? None of this was reflected in your proposal."

He looked up, his gaze gentle as he watched the enraged captain of the guard.

"In the Blackstone Territory, we are not against investment; we welcome any investment that can bring a higher return. What we oppose are decisions made without quantification, based solely on 'I think' or 'I feel.' You need to use data to tell me that every single copper coin is being spent where it counts. That is what it means to be professional."

Kaelan was stunned by these words, the fire in his chest feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over it, instantly extinguishing most of it.

Data... data again.

These past few days, he felt as if he had fallen into an abyss composed of numbers and tables.

The military intuition and rich experience he took pride in were worthless in this system if they weren't converted into quantifiable indicators.

This gave him an unprecedented sense of frustration.

It was a feeling of powerlessness, like having immense strength but not knowing where to apply it.

"Go now," Levi waved his hand. "Go back and revise your plan. I'll give you a hint: change the procurement of training equipment to a leasing model, or have the guards make some of it themselves. Link the food standards to the results of the daily training assessments. I believe that with your professional ability, you will soon be able to produce a report that meets the requirements."

Kaelan gritted his teeth tightly, the muscles in his jaw bunching up.

He stared at Levi for a long time, but in the end, he said nothing. He only gave a heavy huff, grabbed the proposal on the table, and turned to stride out of the study.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, full of resentment and suppression.

Silence returned to the study.

Levi picked up his teacup, took another sip, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

Very good. An untamed lion was being slowly domesticated by the cage of rules.

Once he grew accustomed to thinking and hunting within the cage, he would become the most loyal defender of this system.

"Evelyn."

"Yes, My Lord."

"Prepare a 'Talent Acquisition Case Analysis Report' regarding Sir Kaelan." Levi's gaze drifted toward the window, in the direction of Silvermoon City. "Divide the report into two versions. For the full version, we need to record the entire defection process in detail, analyzing his personality weaknesses, professional demands, and the solutions we provided. This report will serve as internal training material for our Human Resources Department."

He paused, his fingers gently stroking the smooth surface of the cup.

"For the abridged version, remove the sensitive parts of the defection process. Focus on two points: first, how excellent Sir Kaelan's professional abilities are as a well-known military expert in the Northern Province. Second, how generous the treatment we in the Blackstone Territory provided for him out of 'respect for talent' is, including but not limited to 'an annual salary five times that of Silvermoon City,' 'profit-sharing rights of up to ten percent for projects,' and a 'broad platform where he can fully display his talents.' The wording should be earnest, the posture humble; it should convey a sense of being desperate for talent."

Evelyn's pen flew across the parchment as she recorded his words; she didn't even need to ask what the report was for.

"Once it's written," the corner of Levi's mouth curled into a playful arc, "find a few reliable channels and find a way to have this abridged 'Talent Wanted' letter 'accidentally' circulate into Silvermoon City. Especially in the mercenary guilds, caravan guards, and... the taverns frequented by the city guards."

Evelyn stopped her pen and looked up at Levi, a hint of mixed admiration and wariness appearing in her ice-blue eyes for the first time.

Every talent drain was an excellent opportunity for business promotion.

His Lordship intended to squeeze every last drop of personal value out of Sir Kaelan.

This wasn't just poaching the enemy's general; it was meant to dismantle the enemy's military and civilian morale from the very foundation.

A week later, Silvermoon City, Weeping Widow Tavern.

Under the dim lights, the air was thick with the sour smell of cheap ale and the stench of sweat.

Several guards who had just finished their shifts were sitting around a greasy wooden table, cursing loudly about something.

"Dammit, this month's pay is three days late again! That fat pig of a quartermaster said the City Lord's Manor is short on funds and told us to weather the hard times together!" A burly man with a bushy beard took a fierce gulp of ale and slammed his wooden mug heavily onto the table.

"Tell me about it. The soles of my leather boots are almost worn through. I applied for a new pair and was rejected eight times! They said I have to wait until next spring for a new budget!" another tall, thin guard complained.

"Shh... keep it down!" A slightly older guard looked around warily and lowered his voice. "Haven't you heard? The rumor about Sir Kaelan."

"What rumor?" the bearded man asked, interested. "Didn't they say he was kidnapped by that pretty-boy lord of the Blackstone Territory? The City Lord is preparing to send troops to rescue him."

"Kidnapped my ass!" The older guard pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his tunic and carefully spread it out on the table. "See for yourselves! I copied this from a caravan guard; supposedly it leaked out from the Blackstone Territory side."

Several heads immediately crowded in.

On the parchment, in an exaggerated yet earnest tone, Sir Kaelan's military talents were highly praised, calling him the "Lion buried in Silvermoon City."

But what made them even more envious was the description of the compensation package below.

"An annual salary of two hundred and fifty gold coins... My god, we only make ten gold coins a year!"

"And... ten percent project dividends! How much money would that be? Thousands? Tens of thousands?"

"The most critical thing is this: 'a broad platform for career development'! Look at them; as long as you have the ability, money and status aren't an issue. Not like us, working ourselves to death and unable to even afford a new pair of boots!"

Silence. A deathly silence.

The guards who were just complaining about their pay now had nothing but envy, jealousy, and a hint of indescribable humiliation on their faces.

Silvermoon City, for which they risked their lives, viewed them as tools that could be discarded at will.

While that legendary barren and dilapidated Blackstone Territory was willing to spend a fortune on one person's talent.

This sharp contrast was like a poison thorn, stabbing deep into the heart of every low-level soldier.

Similar scenes were constantly playing out in every corner of Silvermoon City.

The news seemed to have grown wings, fermenting rapidly and soon becoming known to everyone.

Morale within the guard began to waver; they were listless during training and whispered to each other during patrols.

The merchants and nobles in the city also began to look at their City Lord with strange eyes.

If he couldn't even keep his most capable general, was City Lord Valerius's ability worth their continued following and investment?

Inside the City Lord's Manor, Valerius tore the secret report in his hand to shreds in a fit of rage.

"Useless! A bunch of useless fools!" He pointed at the trembling captain of the guard in front of him and cursed loudly. "What do I feed you for? Something this big has caused a storm throughout the city, and you only come to tell me now!"

The captain of the guard was so frightened he knelt on the ground, not daring to raise his head.

Valerius paced back and forth in the room, the fat on his face trembling with anger.

What he was facing now was no longer as simple as losing one Kaelan.

Unstable military morale and wavering merchant confidence were digging at the foundations of his rule!

He finally stopped his steps, a look of deep fatigue appearing on his face.

He knew that the best time to solve the problem with force had already passed.

Now, he could only choose to negotiate.

He grabbed a pen, hastily wrote a letter, sealed it with wax, and handed it to the captain of the guard: "Immediately, right now! Send the fastest messenger to the Blackstone Territory! Deliver it to Levi!"

The letter was sent quickly, and Levi's reply came even faster.

When Valerius opened the elegantly phrased and polite reply with trembling hands, he nearly spat out a mouthful of blood.

In the letter, Levi first expressed "regret" over Sir Kaelan's "resignation" and emphasized that Kaelan was a "valuable talent in free flow." As a lord who "respects talent," he had no right to interfere with Kaelan's "personal choice to pursue higher career development."

After expressing a bunch of high-sounding nonsense, at the end of the letter, Levi "friendly" proposed a solution.

"...Given the long-standing friendly neighborly relationship between our two parties, and my deep sympathy for the management difficulties currently faced by Your Excellency, our side is willing, based on the principle of win-win cooperation, to provide Silvermoon City with a complete set of 'Guard Compensation Reform and Talent Incentive System' consulting services. Our professional team will help Your Excellency redesign the compensation structure, establish KPI assessment standards, and improve management efficiency, fundamentally solving the problem of core talent drain. Of course, as a professional business service, we will only charge a symbolic 'reasonable' consulting fee..."

Pfft—

Valerius could no longer hold it back; a mouthful of fresh blood sprayed onto the letter, staining those polite words a bright crimson.

This was too much!

This wasn't just poaching; this was digging out his wall and then wanting to sell him an expensive "anti-theft system"!

He felt his dignity being pressed into the ground by that young man, rubbed and ground back and forth with boots covered in gold coins!

Just as Valerius was shaking with rage and nearly fainting, the door to Levi's study was suddenly knocked upon with a "thud-thud-thud."

The sound was urgent and forceful, completely unlike Evelyn's usual calm and composed style.

Levi put down the latest training budget report regarding Kaelan—which was finally barely acceptable—and frowned slightly.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open, and Evelyn walked in quickly.

Her face still lacked expression, but a rare look of gravity appeared in her ice-blue eyes.

She didn't waste any words and directly placed an intelligence report, urgently sealed with wax, onto Levi's desk.

On the seal of the report was the emblem of a burning sun.

"My Lord, urgent intelligence from the Northern Province."

Levi's gaze fell on that emblem, his pupils contracting imperceptibly.

It was the Royal Crest of the Radiant Empire.

He broke the wax seal and pulled out the letter inside.

The handwriting on the letter was scrawled and hurried, clearly written in a very short amount of time.

His gaze swept rapidly over the paper, his expression shifting from calm to surprise, and then to a hint of playfulness.

The content of the intelligence was simple:

A massive caravan, escorted by an entire regiment of the Royal Knights, had entered the borders of the Northern Province.

The caravan's goal was clear, heading straight for the most barren and remote corner of the North—the Blackstone Territory.

And sitting inside the extremely luxurious gilded carriage at the head of the caravan was none other than the Seventh Princess of the Radiant Empire, his fiancée whom he had never met and who existed only in fragments of memory—Ella Radiance.