HTLCCBFT Chapter 175

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 175

At the tail end of summer, after a full day’s labor, the slaves of Gregor city gathered in the square under the stewards’ orders.

The vast square, usually reserved for the comings and goings of freemen, was now unprecedentedly crowded. Slaves stood clustered together with bewildered expressions, unaware of what was to come.

Many among them were stepping onto the clean, neat stone pavement of the town district for the very first time.

Their arrival clearly astonished the freemen as well.

Numerous individuals even abandoned their ongoing business, flocking to the streets out of curiosity just to observe them.

They didn’t have to wait long. That knight who always followed behind the new Lord with great authority—Sir Noel, was it?—ascended the platform ahead and made an announcement to them.

Of course, no matter how resonant Noel’s voice was, it couldn’t ensure everyone heard, especially those in the back rows.

So after his announcement, it fell to the supervisors stationed around the square to step forward and explain, with complex expressions, to these slaves who had no idea how fortunate they were.

The slaves arrived at the square with vacant looks and left just as dazed.

Only when they reached the familiar farmland did they begin to regain their senses, glancing at each other in disbelief, trying to confirm what they had heard: “Hey, friend, did you hear that?”

“Is it about the conscription?”

Someone with sharper ears had heard more clearly and knew more: “That noble said the conscription order for freemen was announced this morning, but since His Highness needs more men, even we slaves are eligible…”

“God,” a young slave murmured, his face full of disbelief. “Can we really be conscripted too?”

Everyone found this profoundly incredible.

Everyone knew that although slaves were under the Lord’s control, their true allegiance wasn’t to the noble ruling the territory, but to the land beneath their feet.

Lords could fall ill, grow old, die, and often change, but the land remained.

From the moment of their birth, slaves were tightly bound to this land.

Just as a departing Lord would never take the livestock from the pens, neither would they take the slaves from the fields.

They had never enjoyed a single day of freemen’s rights, so of course, they had no obligation to participate in war.

But this certainly didn’t mean they didn’t envy those guards who could wear neat, handsome uniforms, strutting proudly through the streets or riding magnificent horses, looking imposing and formidable—many slaves had thought that if they could wear such clothes and bask in so many envious gazes, they would willingly give their lives.

“Yes!”

The young slave answering him was named Siger[mfn]斯杰尔(sī jié ěr)[/mfn], his face flushed with excitement, clearly already tempted: “As long as we pass the training and meet the basic physical and swordsmanship requirements in three months, we can become guard squires! After another three months, those who pass the second selection can become official guards…”

Slaves who passed the first selection would not only be exempted from other labor duties and receive full meals daily like when working in the fields, but also get paid! Five silver coins every month!

If they managed to pass the second selection as well, the treatment would be even better—as reserve soldiers, they would not only wear the handsome uniforms exclusive to guards, but also receive one gold coin monthly!

One gold coin! God, that’s one gold coin!

Since birth, Siger had been struggling at subsistence level and had never laid eyes on that highest-value, golden currency.

At this thought, he couldn’t help swallowing hard, growing more determined to pass the training.

For freemen, one gold coin might represent profits from half a month of small business.

But for slaves, it was an enormous sum.

After being exploited by taxes heavier than many could imagine, even in the wealthiest Gregor city in the south, a slave household working themselves to death all year might not save up five silver coins. Yet during the coldest winters, this emergency fund might not even buy enough firewood for winter survival amid soaring prices.

Of course, benefits came with dangers.

Once on the battlefield, they would lose the protection of their “slave” status like other freemen, facing the constant threat of death.

Even slaves completely ignorant of politics vaguely sensed that war would likely break out again in the near future—otherwise why would the Lord spend so much money and food raising so many soldiers?

“Actually, being slaves isn’t so bad.”

Someone shuddered fearfully at the imagined scene of bloodshed.

He whispered: “Anyway, the new Lord is very kind—we get full meals every day now.”

Previously, they had to endure intermittent hunger while performing heavy labor. Only when tormented most severely by hunger and exhaustion would their minds become abnormally active like fish dropped into boiling water, yearning for change.

After the new Lord’s arrival, their lives had transformed as if in a beautiful dream, making many fear the dangers guards would face and prefer to honestly remain slaves.

Slaves only needed to farm and could eat their fill—why would they go to such dangerous battlefields?

“We’d still be serfs even if we go.” More people began wavering: “It’s not real glory either… For true glory, don’t they say we need to serve five years?”

If war truly broke out, even well-trained professional soldiers would face grave dangers in brutal combat, let alone temporarily trained recruits like them.

Perhaps specifically conscripting serf soldiers meant throwing them to the front lines as cannon fodder.

Such voices multiplied, making more initially tempted slaves hesitate and reconsider.

“Take your time thinking it over.”

While some slaves remained indecisive, Siger had already made up his mind, declaring firmly: “I’m going to enlist anyway. When dawn breaks tomorrow and the recruitment point opens, I’ll be there.”

“Oh, and…” Before returning to his small hut, he hesitated briefly, then offered a reminder to his still-confused companions: “You all should think clearly—if this benevolent Lord truly fails and is driven out of Gregor city… don’t be naive! Those three satisfying meals you get every day will vanish too!”

Unless a second generous lord like the Angel Duke, willing to show mercy to slaves, were to appear in this world.

After hearing Siger’s words, the slaves exchanged awkward glances.

Some changed their minds because of it, some still hesitated, while others felt irritated, even hoping to see him rejected the next day and slinking back in defeat.

“Ah, the optimism of youth,” someone finally remarked sourly. “He only has two younger brothers, both old enough to support themselves, right? No wonder he speaks so lightly.”

Though Oliver was unaware of these conversations happening in the fields, Fosse had tactfully reminded him when he first made this decision.

Granting too many boons too early to those ignorant and lowly slaves might only inflate their expectations or make them complacent, unwilling to step into dangerous territories.

But Oliver did not regret his actions.

“I never needed too many soldiers to begin with,” Oliver explained. “Although I did use better treatment to attract them, becoming a true soldier requires more than just a desire for money and fame. If most people back out because of this, it’s actually a good thing—it serves as an effective initial screening for me.”

What he wanted wasn’t mere mercenaries; he hoped that, under the training of excellent knights, they would become units with a military soul.

After all, he was only one person. No matter how powerful his system items became, the influence gained through cheating had its limits.

Once full-scale war broke out, he wouldn’t be able to manage every aspect, and there would always be battles where he couldn’t be present.

To put it bluntly, although his troops had been sidelined in the past couple of engagements, they couldn’t stay on the sidelines forever.

“Those willing to step forward have the ambition and courage to not settle for the status quo, the daring to pursue a better life,” Oliver said. “But they can’t only have that in their eyes.”

They must also possess noble and pure convictions.

Only an army united by shared beliefs can truly become invincible and razor-sharp.

Nor did Oliver regret opening the granaries to let the slaves eat their fill.

Unlike Albury and Laina city, Gregor city’s land was fertile enough, with cultivated areas double the combined total of the other two.

Even in years of famine when Gregor city’s yields decreased, there was never a shortage of food.

Feeding the entire city was more than sufficient.

If the slaves in Laina went hungry mainly due to genuine scarcity and poor harvests… then the slaves in Gregor city going unfed was purely intentional on the lord’s part.

Recalling the day he led his men into the granary and saw the overflowing barrels, the plump rats scurrying about, and the innermost stores already moldy, Oliver couldn’t help but shake his head.

Gride would rather hoard the old grain year after year, idly watching it rot until it was unfit for either man or livestock.

Even to the point of being inedible, they were unwilling to let even a little more slip through their fingers to fall into the mouths of starving slaves

The most tragic part was that even so… the slaves of Gregor city were considered fortunate.

So “fortunate” that whenever the steward vented his anger by casually whipping slaves, he would threaten, “If you don’t behave, I’ll sell you to another city.”

“This is wrong.”

Oliver sighed with pity.

Those who worked the hardest received the least.

Those who lay in bed enjoying themselves were the masters of the land, naturally owning everything.

All because the nobles had so-called noble blood flowing in their veins and were born into the right families.

Slaves had no hope of rising up, and for the vast majority of free people, the ceiling above their heads was, in reality, crushingly low.

The following thoughts, Oliver had never spoken to anyone, not even Fosse.

He knew that Fosse, out of absolute loyalty to him, would nod in agreement with such ideas but was destined not to truly understand him.

On nights when he slept nestled against the Cat God, however, he could confide his helplessness to the pure-hearted deity: “These are distorted concepts, but too many people have been infected by this ideological contagion. Even I cannot easily reverse it.”

He could only break as many ceilings as possible and then hand ladders to the people below.

The ladders were narrow, and only a limited number could climb up, but at least there was a stable path for advancement.

While Oliver was lost in his thoughts, the cat-eared deity, who couldn’t understand any of this, quietly wrapped his fluffy tail around Oliver’s waist.

As soon as the blond lord noticed, the deity nonchalantly moved closer and gently kissed his soft, upturned lips.

So fragrant.

The moment their lips met, a faint scent of roses instantly filled the deity’s mind.

The tall cat-eared deity, like a little kitten that had mistakenly sniffed catnip that day, immediately fell into a daze, utterly intoxicated.

He really adored his little companion.

Just as the exasperated lord was about to push away the deity who had taken advantage of the moment to steal a kiss, the other shifted his golden eyes and, with a seemingly innocent tone, randomly changed the subject while clinging to Oliver without any intention of letting go: “Contagion… we can ask Plage! Plage is Deyth’s friend.”

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