"But it isn't tax season yet, my lord," one farmer pleaded miserably.
Wildcat said flatly, "Because rotting corpses invaded, and protecting you lot is hard work. We need more supplies. If you've got objections, we can help you down to hell."
Field's task for him was to collect taxes — and if they were found out, no matter; he'd just plunder instead.
They weren't Nightfall folk anyway. Who'd recognize whom?
Still, tax collection was safest. The slaves' fighting strength was weak; if a clash with the militia broke out, accidents could happen.
"We'll pay! Pay in full!" The village head gritted his teeth and at once had everyone lead out the livestock and hand over grain. With a fawning look, he added, "And the maidens the baron wants — I'll offer them up as well."
Maidens?
Wildcat frowned. Baron Field hadn't mentioned anything about this; clearly it was something Baron Bull wanted.
The slave-guard beside him was about to refuse — and was instantly stopped by Wildcat. Refuse, and wouldn't that give the game away?
"Fine. Bring them all back."
Soon Oxhorn Village was in an uproar, like boiling water poured onto an anthill.
Two cattle, four sheep, sundry chickens and ducks, five wagonloads of grain, and currency totaling seven gold coins, twenty-three silver, and fifty copper — the whole village was as if scraped raw by a bone-scraping knife, weeping and pleading everywhere. A year's hoarded wealth, more than half gone in a single night.
"Nobles are terrifying." Wildcat clicked his tongue inwardly. He himself had ended up a slave for failing to pay his taxes.
Whether the villagers had dodged or underpaid their taxes didn't matter; it was all found money anyway.
"Damn — this many livestock?"
Field was still directing the slaves in hauling out weapons and magic implements. In another bunker, he'd found the very mist-dispelling lamps the bearded officer had been pining for — three of them — plus a great store of magic potions, mostly wound-healing ones. Their total worth was impossible to tally, but it certainly wasn't under 200 gold.
With a haul this large already, even Field couldn't help crying out when he saw the taxes Wildcat brought back.
He hadn't expected one small village to yield so much tax — the rate must have been frightful. Wildcat had only scoured a single village, and twenty men couldn't even carry it all.
There were even cattle and sheep. It seemed that in the cursed land, at least, he wouldn't be short of meat for a while.
The one thing that gave Field a pang was that he'd, in effect, plundered a village.
"Don't go all saintly. Survive." Field rapped his own head. Huaguo's enlightened moral notions didn't work well in a medieval world where the strong ate the weak.
He could barely keep himself alive — why fuss over so much? Only by surviving could he accomplish anything. Besides, the Nightfall Territory sat in front of Bull territory as a buffer zone; this "support" was his by right.
Feeding his own people came first!
"Good. Every man gets a silver coin." Field smiled and encouraged Wildcat, generous with someone else's goods. "Pull together a single gold coin and hand it to me, and I'll grant you your freedom — citizens of the Nightfall Territory."
The slaves let out a tsunami of cheers; they could feel hope, real and tangible.
"My lord, let's go collect taxes from the other villages too!" Having received Field's "incentive pay," Wildcat's enthusiasm shot up, his eyes ablaze. He'd decisively planted himself on Field's side; his earlier flickers of pity had gone straight into the trash.
The Bull-territory villagers got fleeced — why should we Nightfall folk feel sorry for them?
Field pumped a fist. "Of course — squeeze every last gold coin out of them! Try to finish by tomorrow morning; we're a bit pressed for time. Go on — keep playing Bull-territory guards collecting taxes, and I'll see you rewarded."
But they had to be quick. The Empire's other cities weren't run by cravens like Richard; they'd soon notice the crisis in Bull territory and dispatch a great army to wipe out the corruption — and Field couldn't get caught red-handed.
"Er, my lord — there's also this little girl." Wildcat tugged forward a girl in a plain robe, perhaps twelve years old.
Do I look like some creepy uncle?! Bringing me a little girl!
Field's brain stalled for a second. He wanted to curse, but seeing Wildcat's cringing look, he swallowed his temper and asked, "What's this? Why bring back a child?"
"The villagers offered her up to Baron Bull. I figured it wasn't anything good, and I didn't want trouble — but to keep the villagers from getting suspicious, I brought her back on my own. Please punish me, my lord."
"Nothing to punish. You used your head, Wildcat. From now on you'll lead the guard." Field was grateful he'd had patience enough.
The girl was nothing special, just a touch more delicate-featured. Field asked her a couple of questions and took her in. She already knew the truth about Field; sending her back was out of the question — and back there, she'd hardly have an easy time of it anyway.
The next morning, gentle sunlight spilled down. Listening to the great chorus of chickens, ducks, and cattle outside, Ashina's lashes quivered faintly and she gave a languid yawn.
The fatigue of yesterday's battle had melted away; Ashina felt she'd slept sweetly indeed. The mattress beneath her was soft, with a faint gardenia fragrance — nothing a cold, damp iron cage could ever offer.
"Ah, lucky the lord chose me to become a Chosen. Lord Field really is the finest of men."
Her two long, slender legs rubbed against each other with a soft, tempting whisper. She truly wanted another hour's sleep — but Ashina got up quickly all the same, because Field had said they'd be entering the gray mist this very morning.
"Sleep well last night?" Watching this softly mature beauty come bounding toward him, the little bunnies bobbing mischievously, Field nearly lost his composure. "No need to run so hard. I'm still mapping out our route."
"I slept very well. You're busy, my lord." Ashina nodded, half-understanding, and stood obediently to one side to wait.
The Northern Province was vast. The Nightfall Territory included, it had once held prosperous cities and villages; now all of it was corrupted, swarming with monsters. The heart of the Nightfall Territory was a once-flourishing grand manor, belonging to a female baron: Sofia Starnight. Her Starnight City sat within sight of the manor.
"With the strength I have now, building my own castle from nothing is pure fantasy. The best plan is to gnaw down the grand manor, then use it as a base to slowly retake Starnight City."
The map in Field's hand was still a version from seven years ago.
Back then, many pioneer knights had dreamed of reclaiming the Northern Province and set out full of ambition, servants and retainers in tow. Few ever crawled back — and those who stayed in the North forever had, without doubt, all become monsters.
"Probably some of them are bosses or the like. Just adding to my troubles." Field grumbled to himself. "So — the strategic plan is lovely, but the risks tucked inside it are enough to make your scalp crawl."