"You may be reserves, but you aren’t fully soldiers yet," Lord Lance proclaid. "However, while the death penalty can be avoided, the punishnt for your cris cannot. All of you are to be sent to the farm for three years of hard labor. Your status may be restored based on your performance."
Lance announced the resolution; he had no intention of letting these freeloaders, who had consud his supplies for so many days, off easily. The farm was in need of labor, and over the next three years, they would have to work off everything they had consud, in addition to having their full value extracted.
Yet, the n dared not show any dissatisfaction. So even felt fortunate they weren’t being beheaded.
"Vick, hang the head in the square for ten days and post a notice explaining the situation."
"Yes!" Vick replied. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward to pick up the head, fighting his discomfort as he left the area.
"George, take five n to confiscate their property. Then, go to the square to compensate the victims."
"Andrew, I’m giving you one hour to lead your team and escort these n to the farm. Anyone who attempts to escape will have their sentence extended by two years."
"Yes!"
Upon receiving his orders, Andrew imdiately organized the prisoners into a line and began herding them toward the camp’s outskirts. To make the round trip to the town and the farm within an hour, they would have to run; he could not afford to disappoint Lord Lance.
George also followed, sword drawn, his bloodstained uniform and stern expression lending an air of intimidation.
Lance stood on the platform, watching silently as the n moved. Soon, the training camp was empty.
"Co, let’s see how the townspeople react."
Lance stepped out, his cool deanor finally softening slightly.
He had already investigated and confird the situation with the townspeople the previous night. He showed no rcy toward those who threatened the community. The task George was carrying out had also been commanded by him the previous night, aid at imdiately establishing control. The subsequent execution was also part of his arrangent; otherwise, George wouldn’t have co prepared with a weapon. Lance’s goal was to establish his authority. Only then could he oversee the soldiers with sufficient confidence in the future.
As expected, the early morning arrests by the three teams had already caught the public’s attention. When Vick erged carrying a severed head, the crowd was left sowhat perplexed. Fortunately, Vick was quick-witted and began explaining the situation as he walked.
The townspeople were already inclined to support Lance, and upon hearing the reasons, they unequivocally praised Lord Lance for his decision. They, too, had suffered enough from the oppression of such soldiers.
In these chaotic tis, it was often difficult to distinguish between soldiers and bandits. Indeed, so poorly disciplined military units were no different from bandits. Lord Lance’s decisive action clearly brought a sense of satisfaction to the people. Those who had been bullied were especially eager to extol the Lord’s greatness.
Lance watched from the edge of the square for a while. Once he confird there were no problems, he turned his attention to the tavern and the gambling dens. As the construction projects progressed, most people had a bit of money, and these few establishnts were the only sources of entertainnt in the small town. Although he recouped the bulk of his funds through grain sales, these two uncontrolled establishnts still irked him.
However, they were soon to disappear...
Lance withdrew his gaze and started heading toward the grain store with two n.
"My Lord."
It was early in the morning, and there weren’t many custors. As soon as Lance entered, soone ca out to greet him. It was none other than Little John.
Lance was never stingy with his own people. Little John had assisted him in taking over the farm and deserved so credit. Moreover, with Walter reassigned, the grain store needed soone in charge, so Lance had simply entrusted it to him. After all, Little John was familiar with such matters.
"Have you investigated everything I asked for?"
"It’s all prepared, My Lord." Little John turned and retrieved a Map, which simply outlined the situation at the port.
"The Ship Boss’s n..."
Fishern also need to eat. Currently, the most consud at in town was fish, obtained by trading grain with the Ship Boss. To avoid provoking the Ship Boss, Lance hadn’t extended his influence to that area, tacitly acknowledging the port as the Ship Boss’s territory—but only for the ti being. In fact, Lance had already arranged for Little John to use the grain deliveries as an opportunity to observe the port and, of course, the ships.
And now—the ti was ripe. Today, he would make his move!
Reynard and his companion were amazed at the Lord’s foresight. According to Little John’s description, it was clear Lance had been preparing for this for a long ti. This ant the Lord had already devised a plan to deal with the Ship Boss even before leaving the city to suppress the bandits. Both were veterans of the Legion, where military offensives relied heavily on strategic and tactical planning. However, the strategic acun their Lord now displayed was far beyond what they had ever witnessed.
"You’ve done well." Lance raised his hand and tossed a Gold Coin. He wasn’t short on money now, and this intelligence was very useful for taking down the Ship Boss.
"Thank you, My Lord!" Little John caught the Gold Coin, his face alight with surprise. But he quickly offered it back with both hands. "It was you who saved us, My Lord. It is only right that I help you. I do not need money."
Lance was sowhat surprised. Seeing Little John’s conflicted expression, he asked with a smile, "If you have sothing to say, just say it."
"My Lord, I wish to redeem my father," Little John said, looking tentatively at Lance.
"Alright. I’ll arrange it once I’ve dealt with those fellows," Lance replied, patting Little John on the shoulder.
If they captured the Ship Boss’s n, the farm should have enough people. Then, they could gradually release so Serfs to bolster the town’s workforce and accelerate construction.
"Let’s go. We’re heading back."
Lance left with the Map. Little John, overjoyed by the promise he’d received, could only think of seeing his father soon.
The remaining thirty-six n at the training ground regrouped and then participated in various tests: physical endurance, strength, Crossbow Arrow, swordsmanship, shield technique, and more. They seed to realize what was at stake: the test results would determine if they could stay. Consequently, they all summoned their last ounce of energy to perform their best.
None of them wanted to be eliminated. Having grown accustod to military life, the thought of returning to ordinary labor was unappealing. Furthermore, becoming official soldiers ant receiving pay, tax benefits for their families, and even a death gratuity for their kin should they fall in battle. Those who still had stamina pushed themselves even harder, vying for the position of captain, with no one willing to yield.
Lance observed them. Truthfully, by his standards, most were unqualified. However, with so few candidates, he had to choose the most promising from the current group. After a round of training, Lance had made his assessnt. He discussed it with Balistan and Reynard before assembling the troops.
"Assemble!"
All the n stopped their training and turned their gaze to the high platform.
"I will now announce the results of this assessnt."
Indeed! The n below displayed unprecedented tension; none of them wanted their nas to be left off the list.
"Andrew, excellent."
"Vick, excellent."
"..."
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