Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 215
After rewarding the brave and fearless martyrs, it was of course necessary to impose severe punishments upon the rebels.
Even though slaves like Trett had merely been manipulated by Insait, the grave mistakes they had committed remained irreparable, and without exception, they would all be sentenced to death by hanging.
In any city, the crime of rebellion undoubtedly carried the most severe consequences, with punishments so terrifying they could shatter one’s courage—even low-ranking nobles could not escape them, let those at the lowest and most despised level of society.
The only mercy Oliver showed them was refraining from employing cruel methods that inflicted prolonged suffering far worse than death itself, opting instead for the relatively gentler punishment of hanging.
No matter how much Trett and the others regretted their actions or how deeply they hated Insait for deceiving them and leading them to such a wretched fate, it was already too late for any remedy.
When they were pushed up onto the gallows, Oliver did not personally attend the scene, but the public execution ground was already packed with crowds. Nearly all the people of Laina had set aside their tasks to witness the spectacle.
Faced with a sea of faces, some familiar and some strangers, all filled with hatred and rage, and hearing curses that shamed them to the core, the prisoners broke down completely, weeping bitterly.
Through the high windows of the castle, Oliver watched it all from a distance, his mind surprisingly calm.
He knew the cat god was by his side, and he spoke as if to himself or perhaps to Him: “I never imagined that the seeds of discontent among the serfs would sprout so quickly.”
Over more than a year of subtle influence, the inherently hardworking and patient people of Laina had fully embraced the so-called doctrine that “diligence brings wealth.” As a result, they grew to despise Trett and his ilk even more—those who had always been lazy and gluttonous and now had committed such shameful and despicable acts.
Oliver, however, pondered a deeper reason.
The mindset of Trett and his followers was unreasonable, yet it followed its own twisted logic—they believed that freemen and nobles lived better lives because they were inherently superior, making any amount of unfairness seem justified.
But witnessing fellow slaves, who had once struggled just as miserably as they did, rise to heights they themselves were unwilling or seemingly unable to reach through their own efforts—that sense of being left behind was like a spark thrown into a barrel of oil, instantly igniting the accumulated resentment.
Even though they knew perfectly well that their lives had improved vastly compared to before the new lord arrived, and that their so-called “hardship” was only relative to those around them who were more diligent, not compared to their past selves…
When everyone received little, they could barely endure it; but when people they viewed as ‘inferior’ received more, they found it intolerable.
What they found most unacceptable was the significant improvement in the treatment of women.
These women, whom they had once been able to command, enslave, and beat—implicitly considered even lower than serfs, mere property to be manipulated at will—how dare they obtain precious opportunities that they themselves could not secure, and boldly rise above them?
They now had their own jobs, could earn wealth solely under their own control, and even had the freedom to leave them!
How could this be?
Oliver could never accept or understand this extreme mentality—seeing only what others gained while ignoring their efforts and contributions, so selfish, arrogant, and self-serving that it reached the point of harming others without benefiting oneself. Yet he had mentally prepared for its “emergence.”
He just hadn’t expected it to appear so quickly—barely two years had passed since the people of Laina escaped the hardship of starvation.
Oliver sighed deeply.
“Poor Jack,” he murmured. “What a pity.”
As life improved for the people under his rule, his opportunities to personally farm the land and interact closely with them grew fewer.
This was partly because he had completely freed himself from the game system’s aid and no longer felt the same urgency, and partly due to his deliberate effort to maintain distance.
Distance preserved people’s reverence for the ruling class and ensured ordinary lives remained undisturbed.
Countless obscure slaves like Jack, who seemed destined to die of hunger or cold amid their loved ones’ tears, had always clung to a sliver of hope for life.
Once the broader environment improved, the most diligent and kind-hearted individuals seized the opportunity firmly, striving to create a better life for themselves and their families.
They were by no means lazy or incompetent—they had simply lacked a chance for advancement.
As a slave who couldn’t even master the Primary Textbook and had only “luckily” joined the Reserve guard due to his robust physique—seen by all as a “fortunate oaf”—Jack had unhesitatingly performed a heroic act of sacrificing himself for righteousness when Laina’s property and others’ lives were threatened.
For a newfound belief, he abandoned his loving childhood sweetheart, the children who shared his blood, and the promising life that was almost within his grasp.
He was no thoughtless, unfeeling beast.
He was a living person—one with faith, awakened to conviction.
Oliver lowered his gaze and whispered softly, “This completely surpasses my imagination… I’d rather forgo such inspiration and have them live well. Grain can be replanted, houses rebuilt—it’s just a small boon. No, not even a boon, merely what they deserve, hardly worth such a sacrifice from him.”
It was entirely unexpected, leaving Oliver shaken and heartbroken.
“Oliver.”
The golden-haired deity, only half-comprehending, watched his beloved partner’s pursed lips and grave expression, then instinctively embraced him from behind.
Driven by an innate desire to comfort his despondent little partner, he thought briefly, lowered his head, and tenderly kissed the slightly cool ear before clumsily adding, “Jack doesn’t regret it. And he’s… very happy.”
Even a deity still grappling with human emotions could sense the pure, untainted feeling from the scattered fragments of memory.
As the God who had ultimately guided Jack’s soul to the Land of Eternal Rest, his words carried undeniable credibility.
The moment his sensitive earlobe was kissed, Oliver shivered involuntarily.
He did find some slight comfort, and besides, he was not one to dwell excessively on the past.
So he gently patted the deity who was almost pressing down on him and said softly, “I’m fine now. What needs to be added to the textbooks isn’t about making them selfless contributors forever, but… but about learning to cherish themselves more.”
Without anyone noticing, the so-called ‘upper house’ model had begun to take shape in Gregor City’s political processes. Encouraged by his restraint in using veto or approval powers, the high-ranking stewards had gradually grown accustomed to expressing their opinions and participating in ‘voting.’
If all went smoothly, once the foundation was firmly laid and boundaries established, he would subtly begin delegating power—though it would never reach an ideal extent, it could at least create a relatively positive start.
“The thoughts of most people aren’t that narrow or self-serving,” Oliver murmured. “They possess good qualities and strong resilience—they just need proper guidance.”
As for those who stood in the way of this, he would harden his heart and eliminate them without mercy.
He could not afford to be merciful.
As the only one holding such convictions, he had to repeatedly affirm and solidify his beliefs, steadying the path ahead, so others could gather the confidence and courage to follow him.
With the most superficial culprits brought to justice, all citizens of Laina rejoiced.
But for vice knight captain Loyel, who had been tasked by Duke Oliver with investigating and dismantling the conspiracy, the work was only just beginning.
In early autumn, something unexpected occurred: Loyel proactively wrote a letter seeking the young lord’s permission to enlist the assistance of Spire, the former butler of Gregor City.
Oliver readily agreed.
Spire was indeed an expert in scheming conspiracies, and with his deep understanding of the Gregor people, he proved immensely valuable in uncovering plots, living up to expectations.
After thoroughly investigating Insait’s background, the name Pharmaci was further exposed to all. However, the cunning man and several accomplices seemed to have caught wind of the investigation in advance, fleeing toward Riche City before the guards could arrest them for questioning. Only the other accomplices, led by former sheriff Gad, failed to escape and were imprisoned once again.
This time, Gad and his cohorts did not suffer long “grievances” in prison—with irrefutable evidence, there was no need for redundant confessions. Amid their futile, furious roars, they were led to the gallows and executed.
After all, even a former sheriff who had tyrannized Gregor City for years had fragile neck bones.
This was undoubtedly a serious oversight in security patrols—though Oliver did not punish sheriff and knight captain Noel, only instructing him to make timely repairs, Noel was still utterly ashamed and willingly endured a severe beating from Loyel.
The reason Insait had so easily discovered the granary’s location and patrol weaknesses was also uncovered.
The one who provided that information was the son of the former cook, Annie.
Like the former steward who was punished for unjustly beating slaves, she was not allowed to be freed from slavery due to the severity of her offense. However, this punishment did not extend to her son, so during the labor recruitment at the end of last year, he successfully obtained a kitchen assistant position and gained some crucial information.
Driven by dissatisfaction with his and his mother’s circumstances, he connected with the probing Insait and discreetly revealed the location of the granary.
This time, Oliver hardened his heart and showed no mercy: Annie’s son was imprisoned for rebellion and executed by hanging along with Insait just one day later; his immediate family members, including Annie, were expelled from Laina city that same day, permitted to take only some personal belongings. The gates of Albury and Gregor city would forever remain closed to them.
Providing them with enough provisions to reach another city was his final act of compassion—until he possessed stronger oversight capabilities, he could only choose to be harsh toward the relatives of criminals rather than risk the lives of other innocent people.
Of course, this collective punishment only applied to relatives of those convicted of treason: for ordinary crimes, the penalty was merely revoking their family members’ eligibility for castle recruitment for fifty years.
The latter half of the year passed quickly amid the busyness.
Though undercurrents stirred for the upper echelons… for the residents of the three cities under the Duke’s rule, it was undoubtedly a year of rebirth and transformation.
As deep winter departed, spring’s arrival brought bright mornings of melting ice and snow.
Slaves were permitted to gather fallen materials from the forests, allowing the fire to burn warmly in houses expanded with old wood, making just one layer of clothing sufficient.
The tantalizing aroma of wheat wafted from cooking areas. While young children gathered to recite lessons assigned by the divine temple, male slaves focused on extra work taken from the townsfolk to earn small sums for their households, and female slaves diligently kneaded dough, occasionally wiping fine sweat from their brows with the backs of their hands.
Dinner was not only fragrant with soft bread, but there was enough for the whole family to eat their fill.
Though farm work was scarce in the cold weather, even during the busiest autumn they worked happily: they were rarely whipped, the work intensity was entirely manageable, and once their assigned tasks were completed, the remaining time was their own!
Having time that belonged to them, when they could do anything they wanted!
They once thought themselves fortunate, especially compared to those in other cities who starved year-round and faced sale by autumn’s end.
They knew their counterparts either died exhausted by impossible workloads, were beaten to death by ill-tempered stewards, or survived until winter only to perish in batches from cold and hunger.
They never imagined things could be better—their current life was not only happiness they’d never dared dream of, but also brimming with hope.
All this was brought by the great cat god, the great Duke!
Countless townsfolk also shared this gratitude and looked toward the new year with bright anticipation.
Ticher lived in the new house she had helped build with her own hands, breathing in the faint scent of wood carried by the hearth fire that had burned through the night. Her heart felt like a bird taking flight for the first time.
She had followed the doctor’s advice from the hospital and nervously stopped taking the potions Pharmaci had given her—especially since Pharmaci had been exposed as a traitor. She neither wanted nor dared to let her mother consume medicine made by someone so wicked. Instead, she focused on eating more fresh fruits, some grains, drinking plenty of water, and getting sunlight.
To her astonishment, though slowly, her mother was genuinely getting better, bit by bit!
Today, she had actually woken up a little later than usual, just like everyone else in the city.
It was said that, considering the snow hadn’t fully melted in the first three days of the new spring and many tasks were inconvenient to resume, the lord in the castle had announced an incredible piece of good news for the entire city: starting this year, to celebrate the arrival of spring and reward everyone for their hard work over the past year, the first three days of spring would be designated as a time for people to rest at home without having to work. For positions that absolutely couldn’t be left unmanned, workers would receive double pay during these days and could swap shifts with others later in the month.
The great Lord Oliver named this holiday the ‘Spring Festival,’ and residents of the three cities under his rule would all enjoy these three days off.
Not only that, but large dances would be held in the square on each of these three evenings, open to everyone!
Before the dances, former bards from the soon-to-open new theater would perform numerous acts, followed by free snacks—prepared by the castle’s own chefs!
Though still thin, the woman—increasingly lucid and able to sit up—smiled as she watched her beautiful daughter excitedly talk about that evening’s dance.
Weak but clear, she spoke slowly, ensuring Ticher could hear every word: “You must go tonight.”
Ticher snapped out of her excitement, her eyes lighting up briefly before she quickly hid it.
She sensibly reined in her eager heart, shyly saying, “No, Mother, I don’t know how to dance. I’d rather stay home with you.”
The woman shook her head, insisting, “You must go. Remember all the interesting things you see and come back to tell me, alright? I’d love to hear about it too.”
Ticher pressed her lips together shyly. She knew her mother was saying this on purpose, but she couldn’t resist the longing in her heart. Finally, she gave a slight nod.
Waking a bit later than others but precisely at the game system’s unwavering 6 o’clock, Oliver opened his eyes silently in the long-missed bright sunlight.
Though not fully awake, his first action was habitual: he exchanged a morning kiss with the cat god “sleeping” beside him.
“Happy New Year, my dear God.”
In the deity’s profound, deep-golden eyes, his beaming little partner shone even brighter than the morning sun, dazzling and radiant.
This unconsciously lifted the corners of His mouth into a high smile.
“Happy New Year.” In His joy, He naturally sought more kisses and closer embraces, murmuring, “My dear Oliver.”
