The Lord: Raising a Maiden in the World of Torment

Field personally handed out the rewards to the members of the guard, one by one. The former slaves were overwhelmed with emotion, many of them sobbing uncontrollably.

And why wouldn't they be? The top performer, a slave named Ironhammer, had earned 17 silver coins—a fortune that most people wouldn't accumulate in a lifetime.

Even Field's maids couldn't help but feel a pang of envy.

The rest of the crowd stared at the guards with jealousy, their eyes glued to the jingling coins in their hands.

"If I'd known, I would've joined the guard when it was formed!"

"Damn it! They didn't pick me back then. What a shame!"

Even the timid ones were stomping their feet in regret.

"Listen up, everyone," Field said, his voice cutting through the chatter. "I'm about to announce the development plan for Nightveil. It's tied directly to your future."

Enticed by the promise of money, the slaves' ears practically stood on end. They listened more attentively than they ever had to a priest's sermon.

"First: anyone who wants to leave slavery can do so by earning one gold coin. Don't despair just yet—I'll say this clearly: this would be impossible under any other lord. But in Nightveil, it's simple. Just look at the brave Ironhammer! One day—17 silver coins!"

Ironhammer stood tall and proud, even rising onto his tiptoes as he soaked in Field's praise. It was the first time in his life that anyone had complimented him instead of calling him a "stupid mule" or an "idiot."

What made it even more unbelievable was that the praise came from his lord.

"Goddess, I must be crazy—this has to be my lucky day," Ironhammer thought, basking in the envious and admiring gazes of the crowd. He felt like he was on top of the world.

Field's smile widened. "The rules remain the same: kill one undead, and you earn one silver coin. Beyond that, I'll be issuing a series of non-combat tasks, like farming, building walls, repairing structures, and other projects. All of these will come with rewards."

Slaves had no incentive to work hard, but Field urgently needed freemen. Freemen not only took care of their own food and clothing but could also be taxed. Plus, only freemen had the motivation to learn skills and trades.

The crowd erupted into spirited discussion, but Field silenced them with a raise of his hand as he moved on to the second rule.

"Second: about race. I don't care about your prejudices, as long as you don't violate basic laws. While I'm not a demi-human, my dear Chosen One happens to be one. So, keep your biases to yourselves. Look around you at the Death Mist—don't let petty nonsense lead to everyone's doom."

Field paused, letting his words sink in before adding, "Personally, I quite like demi-humans. As long as you're hardworking and don't cause trouble, you're good citizens in my eyes."

From his interactions over the past few days, Field had noticed that demi-humans weren't like certain other races that indulged in laziness and destruction. They were perfectly capable of being productive members of society, and he was happy to welcome them.

Besides, he couldn't deny one more thing: beast-eared girls were undeniably adorable.

Ashina's eyes reddened, and she felt a warmth she hadn't experienced before—respect and equality.

"Third," Field announced, "from now on, include Ashina's name in your prayers."

This was a decision that had troubled Field for a long time. He wanted to build a territory grounded in science and progress.

However, the records indicated that the power of a Chosen One stemmed from faith and the prosperity of their city. Ashina, as a first-tier Chosen, would need a significant amount of faith from the people to advance to the second tier.

Field was skeptical of this concept. If faith alone strengthened individuals, then the Papal States, with their followers spread across the continent, should be the most powerful force in existence. But that wasn't the case.

The Holy Gryphon Empire had already surpassed the Papal States in terms of elite combat strength, not to mention other strong nations on the continent.

"Unfortunately, I don't have a control group or the leeway to experiment. For now, I'll follow conventional wisdom and see how it goes," Field muttered to himself.

Next, Field issued another call for slave recruits to join his militia. There would be no wages, but they would be provided with three meals a day. Their only source of income would be from killing enemies.

Unlike the previous time, when no one wanted to volunteer, a large crowd of people jostled to sign up.

Field wasn't about to accept everyone. He pointed toward the edge of the territory and said, "Anyone who wants to be a soldier, run five laps around my land. I'll choose the best based on your performance. Also, I'm very democratic—you can withdraw anytime."

That single, light remark caused six people to drop out immediately. These were the lazy ones, content with nothing more than a single loaf of black bread a day.

"If you can't even manage basic discipline, you're just here for free meals," Field muttered, shaking his head. He had no use for such soldiers.

The remaining volunteers gritted their teeth and began to run.

The new batch of slave recruits was far inferior to the first group. Most of them were frail, with bodies as thin as skeletons. By noon, the final runner staggered across the finish line.

Watching that unsteady figure, Field felt no anger, but rather delight. "Physical strength can be trained, but tenacity is far harder to come by," he remarked.

After weeding out two recruits who had tried to cut corners by running fewer laps, Field ended up with 23 new soldiers.

He then reorganised his forces. From the original 30-member guard, he reassigned all wolf demi-humans to form a new 20-member raiding cavalry unit by mixing them with the new recruits. The remaining 33 soldiers became the core of the guard unit.

If a noble or knight were to witness this, they would be utterly flabbergasted. Training commoners to form an army was already unheard of. But training slaves? It was unthinkable. Slaves were viewed as ignorant, cowardly, and unfit even to serve as cannon fodder—barely good enough to fill a moat with their corpses.

Yet here was Field, not only organising them into proper units but even issuing them armour and equipment.

Kael, the steward, glanced at the newly recruited "skeleton soldiers," his jaw practically hitting the floor. His mouth hung open so wide it could've swallowed an ostrich egg. Unable to contain himself, he sought out Field and spoke bluntly: "My lord, the 30-man guard you raised earlier was already absurd. But now you've expanded it, and you're giving precious warhorses to lowly slaves? They'll turn on you and devour those valuable horses!"

"Calm down, Kael," Field said with a wave of his hand. "Look at Lynx and Ironhammer. Their performance has been outstanding. We wouldn't have made it here or cleared a safe foothold without their efforts."

"This… this is just a temporary fluke! When faced with a real test, they'll scatter like scared rats," Kael declared, pointing to the heavens with absolute conviction. "A true soldier must be born into a military family, trained from a young age in the art of war, proficient in weaponry, and possess noble character!"

Field rubbed his temples, feeling an impending headache. Clearly, this guy had been brainwashed by bards and storytellers.

"So, what's the alternative? We're surrounded by monsters," Field countered.

"Hire mercenaries and adventurers, of course," Kael replied, as if it were the most obvious solution.

Mercenaries? Those unreliable rogues? Field had no illusions about their loyalty. He knew all too well from history that mercenaries often turned on their employers. Only soldiers drawn from the people had the potential to form a truly dependable army.

"Thank you for your suggestion, but I'm giving them a chance," Field said, rolling his eyes. His tone left no room for argument. "Kael, make sure the soldiers get an extra ration for their meal—each of them gets an additional egg. This afternoon, I'm taking them out to clear some monsters. They'll prove their worth."

Manpower was scarce in the territory, so Field couldn't afford to take everyone with him. If the base were attacked in their absence, it would be catastrophic.