Then Field handed out the bounties to the guards with his own hands, and the slaves wept with excitement, one and all.
How could they not? The slave with the most kills, Hammer, received seventeen silver coins — a fortune many never accumulate in a lifetime.
Even Field's maids were jealous.
The rest looked on with red-eyed envy at the money in their hands.
"Had I known, I'd have joined the guard when it was formed."
"Damn it, they didn't pick me back then. What a waste."
Men once timid now stamped their feet in frustration.
"Listen, my people. I now announce the Nightfall Territory's development plan. It concerns the future of every one of you."
With the lure of money, the slaves all but pricked up their ears, listening more intently than to a priest's prayers.
"First: to shed your slave status, earn me a single gold coin. Don't despair just yet. I daresay that under any other lord, it would be flat impossible — but in the Nightfall Territory, it's simple. Look at the valiant Hammer! One day! Seventeen silver!"
Hearing Field's praise, Hammer threw out his chest proudly, even rising onto his toes. It was the first time in his life he'd been praised by anyone, rather than cursed as a dumb ass or a blockhead.
What he found hardest to believe was that the praise came from the lord himself.
"Goddess — I must be dreaming. Today's surely my lucky day." Feeling the eyes of the crowd, some envious, some admiring, Hammer was on top of the world.
The corner of Field's mouth lifted. "Same rule as before: kill a rotting corpse, earn a silver coin. Beyond that, I'll post a series of non-combat tasks — farming, building walls, repairs, and so on — and I'll pay bounties for all of them."
Slaves had no drive; what Field urgently needed was free folk. Free folk not only saw to their own food, clothing, and lodging, they could also be taxed — and only free folk had any motivation to learn a trade.
The crowd erupted into heated discussion. Field went straight to the second point.
"Second: the matter of race. I won't meddle in it — just don't break the basic law. I may not be a demi-human, but my dear Chosen is, so put away your prejudices. Lift your heads and look at the death-fog all around you, and don't get everyone killed over some senseless reason." Field paused. "Personally, I quite like demi-humans. Be diligent and honest, don't make trouble for me, and you're good people of mine."
These past days of contact had shown Field that demi-humans weren't like certain races — all idle gluttony and wanton wrecking — so he was glad to take them in.
Besides, beast-eared girls really were adorable.
Ashina's eyes reddened; she felt respected, treated as an equal.
"Third: from now on, when you pray, include Ashina's name."
This point Field had wrestled with for a long while; he wanted to build a more scientific domain.
But the books said a Chosen's power flowed from faith and from a city's prosperity. Ashina was a first-rank Chosen now; to advance to second rank, she'd need a great deal of belief-force from his people.
Field harbored doubts about this. If power rose with faith, then the Papal State, with believers across the continent, ought to be the mightiest of all — yet that wasn't the case.
The present Holy Griffin Empire, in top-tier combat strength, had already surpassed the Papal State, never mind the continent's other great powers.
"Pity there's no control group, and no margin to test by trial and error. Let's try the predecessors' methods first."
After that, Field again recruited slave-soldiers — no wages, but three meals provided, the only income being from killing enemies.
Utterly unlike the last time, when no one was willing, a black mass of people now jostled to sign up.
Field didn't take all comers. He pointed at the edge of his domain. "Anyone who wants to be a soldier, run five laps around my territory. I'll select the best by performance. And I'm very democratic — you may withdraw at any time."
That offhand line made six men give up on the spot — lazybones, the lot, satisfied with one black bread loaf a day.
"Can't even manage basic obedience. Plainly just here for a free meal." Field shook his head; he had no use for soldiers like that.
The rest gritted their teeth and began to run.
The newly joined slaves were far poorer stock than the first batch — mostly weak and frail, every one of them thin as a skeleton-soldier. It was noon before the last man finished.
Watching that final, stumbling figure, Field's reaction was delight rather than anger. "Physique can be built up, but a stubborn will is hard to come by."
After cutting two who'd played clever and skipped a few laps, Field had twenty-three recruits.
From the original thirty-man guard he pulled out all the wolf demi-humans and mixed them with the new recruits to form a twenty-man raiding cavalry; the rest made up a thirty-three-man escort guard.
Any noble or knight who came here would be dumbstruck by Field's doings. Training commoners into an army was already insane, never mind slaves. Foolish and ignorant, timid and craven, they weren't even fit to be cannon fodder — passable, at best, for filling an enemy's moat.
Yet Field actually organized them in earnest, and issued armor and gear besides.
The steward eyed the recruited "skeleton-soldiers," his mouth gaping wide enough to swallow an ostrich egg, stunned by his lord's conduct. He sought Field out and said bluntly, "My lord, the thirty-man guard before was already absurd. Why expand it further — and hand precious warhorses to lowly slaves? They'll turn around and eat the prized horses!"
"Don't get worked up, Kao. Look how well Wildcat, Hammer, and the others have done. We made it this far and carved out a foothold thanks to them."
"That — that was only desperation in a crisis. Faced with a true test, they'll scatter in a stampede." Kao pointed at the sky and vowed earnestly, "A true soldier is born into a martial household, masters every military skill and weapon, and must have noble character besides!"
Field rubbed his brow. This fellow had surely been brainwashed by bards and novelists.
"Then what should I use? We're surrounded by monsters."
"Hire mercenaries and adventurers with money, of course," Kao answered as if it were obvious.
Mercenaries? Field worried those unreliable types would sell him out the moment they turned around. History had proven countless times that only warriors drawn from the people could form an army with real potential.
"Thanks for the advice, but I'm going to give them a chance." Field rolled his eyes and said in a tone that brooked no argument, "Kao, give the soldiers extra rations — an extra egg each. This afternoon I'll take them out to clear monsters. They'll prove their worth."
Hands were scarce in the domain; Field didn't dare take everyone, or it'd be a disaster if the base were overrun.