"My lord, why the troubled face?" Ashina sidled up, bow in arms, a smile in her eyes. "The hardest stretch was before we got here. Why look worried only now?"
Field waved a hand; he had no wish to spread anxiety and dent the already shaky morale of his people. He put on a teasing look and reached out to pinch Ashina's wolf ear. "Not worried. I'm only torn over whether to give my hardworking, meritorious heroine a massage with my own hands."
"H-huh?" Color rushed to Ashina's pretty face at once, her red eyes quaking like an earthquake. She stammered for a reply — then, catching Field's child-teasing expression, realized she'd been had, and huffed up indignantly. "The lord goes too far. And here I was, worried about you. I'm not speaking to you anymore."
Field patted his aching neck. "Thanks for the concern. But it's time we found a place to stay. I don't want to sleep in that wagon one more second — the creak-creak grinds at my head until it aches."
He had to claim a building. Somewhere to keep off the wind and rain would help enormously, even if the houses here were corrupted beyond recognition.
After studying the map carefully, Field said, "Let's take the Grand Winery, Ashina. Its main structure is brick and stone — it won't rot into a pile of rubble so easily."
The Grand Winery lay to the southeast of the main building, with broad swaths of fertile farmland for growing the Black Pearl grapes used in winemaking. The sweeping vineyards were a thing of the past, of course; now the fields held only great writhing masses of black tentacles and rotting corpses.
Faintly, the vines and trellises could still be seen among the fields. In its day, this land had produced the Empire's most famous Black Pearl wine.
"Women, clear the fields out — don't leave a speck of filth. These writhing tentacles and lumps of flesh look terrifying, but they're no real threat." Field kicked aside a corrupted lump of flesh studded with seven or eight eyes. "Before the gray mist came, these disgusting things were all cute little animals."
"Yes, my lord." The slaves dawdled.
"Finish within two days and I'll pay you ten copper coins in wages. This land will be our food source one day." Field played his trump card — letting slaves own money.
The slaves' eyes lit up; they set to killing the corrupted creatures with their tools, hands and feet suddenly nimble, work efficiency leaping tenfold.
Watching them, the steward, Kao, rolled his eyes. "Only a master as benevolent and generous as you. If these dirt-legs won't work, it's simpler just to hang them."
At this point one of the free folk Field had press-ganged came over.
"My lord, you're letting your imagination run away with you. The soil's already poisoned. Even if you clear out every monster, you can't farm it." The villagers voiced their doubts; one stamped hard, and the soft, rotted earth caved in at once, leaving a footprint pooled with purple water. "See — it's like a swamp full of toxin. Ugh! This damned smell is worse than a widow's crotch unwashed for three years."
Hearing this, the slaves cast over doubtful looks.
My kindness seems to be making certain people overstep.
Field's eyelids drooped; his tone betrayed no flicker of feeling. "This is my order, not a discussion."
The villager's mind was still loyal to Baron Bull; he didn't catch on. "But there's no point in doing this, my lord."
"Hm?" Field's brow knit, his eyes turning unfriendly.
Wildcat and the other guards drew their blades at once, a chorus of steel rasping free. Though Connor's men had done the heavy fighting the whole way, the slave-guards had been tempered too, and now carried a faint soldier's edge of menace.
Eyes stung by the flash of blades, the villagers snapped to: they were actually questioning their new lord! Suddenly drenched in sweat, they threw themselves to the ground.
The air went cold for half a minute.
Only then did Field wave a hand. It wasn't that he meant to flaunt power or play the feudal tyrant. But he had no foundation, and in this lawless, order-forsaken land, if he couldn't keep this lot in line, he might as well give up being a lord and go find somewhere to hang himself.
"You'll clear the land too. The eastern fields are all yours. And the fool who called me a dreamer — go take five lashes." Field meted out a light punishment to teach the lesson; he'd need them all for pioneering and farming.
The villagers were already soaked in sweat; hearing Field's words, they felt as if pardoned. "Yes, yes, yes."
Everyone began rooting out the corruption, startling the corrupted creatures into a fit of shrill, freakish cries.
"So damned Lovecraftian." Field sucked in several sharp breaths, then a wave of nausea. Stay too long in this cursed land and a man might go mad. "We have to light the fire of civilization fast. Let's start with the winery."
Two torch-bearing farmers pulled open the winery's great doors, and a dark, rotten stench rolled out. Field nearly brought up last night's dinner; he covered his nose and mouth and turned his face aside.
"Careful — plenty of footsteps on the second floor." Ashina had no abnormal reaction to the stench; as a slave she'd lived in far worse.
"We're taking this big building, and it might hold flammables, so no fire."
Ashina nodded obediently. "Leave it to me!"
Holding an iron-banded shield to his chest, Field drew his sword. "Halberds up! Brace for the charge."
They'd had no systematic training, but the days of fighting had taught the guards a few tricks; a small square formed up fast. Field drew a deep breath and rapped his sword-hilt hard against a shield. "Oi, oi! Neighbors — your community's here to spread some warmth!"
"Roooar!" The dark was full of howling, wailing cries.
A dense drum-roll of footsteps broke out; misshapen, twisted monsters charged from the inky black, and the clash of flesh against iron rose all at once.
Ashina alone, with her wolf, held off the bulk of the corpse-swarm. The long spear in her hand reaped corpses with ease, and the giant wolf was a very tank — buried under a smothering ball of corpses, its defenses still unbroken. Had Field not forbidden the dragonkin wolf from breathing fire, the fight would already be over.
"Aagh! Goddess above!"
A guard in the front rank skewered a corpse, was knocked into a stagger, and before he could steady himself was tackled flat by the corpses surging in behind. Armor and all, he crashed to the ground in a graceless heap.
With a low grunt, Field stepped half a pace forward and brought his sword down hard on the corpse's skull. This was no anime where going dark made you three times stronger; a rotting corpse was just a monster wearing human skin. With no armor to protect it, the keen blade sheared through sinew and bone, and the whole head came off.
"Th-thank you, my lord!"
The guard's eyes were wide with terror, his trousers warm and wet — he'd nearly shared a passionate kiss with a monster just now.
From his look — wishing he could drop to his knees and call Field Daddy — it was plain he'd never so revered or thanked a noble in his life.