Nightfall had descended.
A large number of residents gathered around the canteen, some squatting, others standing, all holding stone bowls and slurping their food.
Simply drinking broth and eating meat wasn't enough, so today, Kent had designed a special menu: rice soaked in thick broth.
The broth was a rich beef brisket stew prepared by Udo, while the rice was coarse grain. Normally hard and unappetizing, the coarse rice, once cooked and soaked in the stew, turned out to be extraordinarily delicious.
Kent held two stone bowls as he approached Waterstream, who was sitting on the hillside.
From the first day back, Waterstream had started one-on-one combat training with each guard.
As a result, all guards would keep their distance from her whenever they saw her; no one dared approach.
Waterstream took the stone bowl, which was a bit hot to the touch. She looked at the broth-soaked rice in the bowl, noticing two chunks of brisket, with a nice balance of fat and lean.
The past few days, she had been tasting strange foods, unusual both in preparation and in how they were eaten.
But after tasting them, she realized these were flavors she'd never experienced in her life.
Today was no exception.
Placing a piece of brisket in her mouth, the juice locked inside instantly filled her mouth. The tender texture released a rich aroma with each gentle bite, and even a hint of sweetness lingered. The softened, chewy coarse rice, soaked in the stew, seemed as though each grain had been saturated with the rich flavor of the broth, awaiting that satisfying bite…
So delicious…
For this mouthful of delicious food, she might even consider staying longer at Kent's domain.
"You don't act like a lord," she said, watching Kent happily slurping his bowl of broth.
"What should a lord act like?" Kent drained his bowl and let out a satisfied burp, then tossed a remaining piece of brisket into his mouth, chewing contentedly.
"Lords are nobles; they wouldn't be here, eating from the same pot as commoners." Waterstream ate her portion slowly.
"You keep emphasizing the difference between nobles and commoners. I wonder—do you harbor resentment toward nobles?" Kent asked.
"Let's not talk about that. What if another power attacks your domain? What will you do?" Waterstream didn't answer his question, instead raising a new topic. "It's still a small domain; you don't even have a defense force."
"That's exactly what I'm worried about…" Kent nodded. "Do you have any good suggestions?"
"Me? I'm just an assassin; what advice could I offer?" Waterstream chuckled. "But you could consider purchasing slaves from a slave camp?"
Slaves? An idea suddenly sparked in Kent's mind.
Buying slaves to form his own military force was common practice, not only in the Highland Alliance but throughout the Red Soil Continent. However, Kent thought this was a temporary solution, not a permanent one.
To establish a truly strong military force from scratch, fundamental questions had to be addressed, such as: where does fighting strength come from?
Memories of another world had already provided him with a clear answer.
It wasn't just about weapons; it was also about people's hearts.
How could purchasing slaves bring fighting strength?
Abolishing slavery would.
"Where's the largest nearby slave camp?" he asked.
"Coincidentally, it's owned by one of your old rivals," Waterstream replied with a smile.
"My old rival?" Kent was puzzled. "The Tiger Clan?"
The only ones who could be called old rivals, apart from a few from the Wild Plains Tribe, would be the Tigers, who had recently been driven back.
"The Tiger Clan?" Waterstream looked surprised. "You've even crossed paths with the Tigers? Impressive. But no, I'm talking about the Bloodstone Family of the Rapidflow Tribe. They own one of the largest slave camps on the northern wildlands' frontier, near the Cave Tribe's territory by the Rapidflow River, called the Bloodhammer Camp. It's only about a two-day ride."
"That's not far," Kent nodded. "I have an idea. Would you like to hear it?"
He explained his plan in detail.
Waterstream looked at him as if he were from another world.
What a strange guy, she thought, but for some reason, she really liked this idea.
"What do you think… of this plan?" Kent asked. "However, I need your support. This plan won't succeed without your involvement."
"Attacking a heavily guarded slave camp? You're insane," Waterstream laughed. "But I'll need payment."
"If money can solve it, it's no problem," Kent replied, grinning. They shook on it.
He habitually raised his hand for a high-five, but Waterstream looked blankly at him, then at his raised hand, then back at his embarrassed expression.
"Heh…" Kent chuckled awkwardly, lowering his hand.
"You don't have enough manpower," Waterstream pointed out. "Less than ten guards."
"Numbers don't matter; it's about the strategy."
"What's your plan?"
"An inside job."
"Explain?"
…
Over a meal of brisket and rice, Kent and Waterstream, the two feared figures of the Hunter Spear Domain, reached an agreement to expand outward and support their cause with battle spoils.
The next day, preparations began in full swing.
Damaged equipment needed repair, new stone jars for firebombs were in production, cement and brick production couldn't slow down, public toilets and manure storage were being planned for future agricultural use, and coal furnaces were still under production…
Additionally, the valley's topography and mineral deposits required detailed surveying and recording for planning purposes.
"Blacksmith, how's my sword coming along?" Kent asked loudly as he entered the smithy.
Even though a new forging workshop had been established for batch-producing coal furnaces, Kent had kept this smithy running.
"Lord, your sword is ready," the blacksmith said, emerging from the back with a longsword.
"What happened to your face?" Kent asked, noticing the blackened face of the blacksmith.
"Heh, Udo, that rascal, had me ignite his fire for cooking, and he used too much kindling. It exploded," the blacksmith replied.
The sword, previously chipped in several places, now gleamed with a finely crafted, razor-sharp blade.
"What fine craftsmanship," Kent praised, blinking. "You mentioned kindling? What kind?"
"Oh, just this." The blacksmith held up a small pouch, spilling out yellowish, irregularly sized granules resembling small stones. "It's a material associated with red iron ore, ignites easily."
"What is this…" Kent picked up a small piece, pressing it until it crumbled into fine powder, scattering like dust. It was dry, with no sulfur smell; Kent wasn't familiar with minerals and wasn't sure if this was unique to the Red Soil Continent. But if it could be used for ignition…
"Blacksmith, try lighting it," he said.
"Sure, Lord," the blacksmith replied, placing the powder on the anvil. He picked up a burning coal from the furnace and hesitated, looking at Kent. "Lord, you might want to step back…"
Once Kent had stepped away, the blacksmith placed the coal on the powder.
Boom—
A flash of intense light and smoke erupted, as the powder burned up instantly.
"You're certain this material is from mining deposits?" Kent asked, surprised.
"Yes, Lord," the blacksmith replied. "I'm very familiar with it from my mining trips."
Familiar to you, maybe; but not to me.
In another world, he'd never heard of natural…
Gunpowder?