"I don't even know my manservant's name yet," Field said, turning to Kael, the steward.
"My lord, his name is Jar. Sixteen years old. His parents were farmers. The cook is named Plate, and the maids are Scissors and Sparrow."
In this world, only those who possessed knowledge, noble status, or extraordinary power had pleasant-sounding names.
For instance, Field's full name was Field Rose—"Rose" symbolising elegance and refinement.
"Do you have any orders for me, my lord?" Jar stammered nervously after being called out, his voice trembling.
He was worried about being dismissed. Yesterday, he had slacked off for ten minutes while mopping the floor.
"The temporary bedding you laid in the cart was very comfortable. If it weren't for that, I might have been rattled to pieces during the journey," Field said casually, snapping his fingers. "Kael, give Jar a reward of one silver coin."
"Hiss—"
The others immediately cast envious glances his way. A single silver coin was worth over six days' wages.
Jar froze for a moment before his face lit up with joy. Overcome with gratitude, he threw himself at Field's feet and kissed his boots. "By the goddess above, thank you for your generosity, my lord!"
"Lucky boy," Scissors muttered, pouting in displeasure. Big deal, laying some bedding. I can warm beds, too.
Jar silently vowed in his heart: from now on, he would never slack off again—not even for a minute.
"Every month, there will be a performance review," Field announced. "Anyone who performs well will have a chance to earn a silver coin reward. Whether it's the cook preparing delicious meals, the maids keeping the rooms spotless, or anything else, I'll take notice."
The servants exchanged glances, their breaths quickening. The competitive fire in their eyes was unmistakable.
Field's lips curved into a faint smile. He knew their work efficiency would now be fuelled by the allure of silver coins. Most importantly, it would encourage behaviours like whistleblowing and reporting on each other. He needed this dynamic—having his subordinates form tight-knit cliques could lead to conspiracies to deceive the lord.
"All right, get back to your tasks," Field said with a smile, waving them off. The servants quickly departed, but Kael hesitated, taking a few steps away before turning back.
"What's the matter?" Field asked, puzzled.
"My lord," Kael began cautiously, "this might not be my place, but as your steward, I feel it's my duty to offer some advice." Since surviving their journey to Nightveil, Kael had abandoned his previous grumbling attitude and taken his role more seriously.
"Go ahead. Speak your mind," Field said, raising an eyebrow.
"It's about the matter of races. You seem to have provided a path for demi-humans to advance, promising them the possibility of becoming freemen. But... forgive me, my lord, they're not like us. They're... foolish. Apologies, present company excluded, of course," he added hastily, glancing at Ashina. "But aside from her, granting freedom to the others doesn't seem necessary."
Field fell silent, deep in thought. After a moment, he said, "We are in the Cursed Lands now, surrounded by death. As the old saying goes: When in Azelia, be an Azelian."
He stood, turning to face Kael. "Nightveil must have its own rules. Tomorrow, I will announce a unified code of law. Then you'll understand."
That evening, Field sat at his desk, pen in hand, drafting a development plan for Nightveil.
In cryptic characters only he could understand, he wrote: "Raiding and Exploration."
"My territory has nothing to its name. If I want rapid development and to accumulate resources, relying on just two hundred people is impossible."
Even the land itself was riddled with toxins.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"My lord, it's me," came Ashina's voice from the other side.
Field's plan required Ashina's support. "Come in. I've been waiting for you."
"Good evening, my lord," Ashina greeted as she stepped inside. She was wearing a short, tailored maid's outfit, her slender legs shifting shyly. Despite the demure stance, there was a soft blush on her face. Freed from the hardships of slavery, her porcelain skin now had a radiant glow. Even her feet, delicate and well-shaped, seemed almost unnaturally fair, with toes that looked like fine works of art.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, her tone soft.
For a moment, the air grew noticeably tense, as if an ambiguous atmosphere had settled between them.
Field smacked his forehead in realization. No wonder Ashina seemed so reserved and hesitant.
Calling a young woman to your room in the middle of the night? Anyone would start imagining things.
"Cough, cough. It's about the development of the territory," Field clarified quickly.
"Oh." Ashina's restless hands immediately dropped to her sides as she exhaled a breath of relief. Still, there was a faint sense of disappointment in her heart. "My lord, I don't have any experience in management. I might not be able to help you much."
Before becoming a slave, Ashina had been a simple freeman, the daughter of a wolf demi-human hunter. She was illiterate and knew nothing about governance.
"That's fine. You can learn. I'll teach you step by step," Field reassured her. "Besides, you're a Chosen One—you have a natural advantage."
In this world, becoming a Chosen One was the greatest form of social mobility.
One moment, someone might be on death row, but if the next moment they were chosen by the gods, local nobles would immediately declare them innocent and treat them as honoured guests. After all, the gods didn't make mistakes.
This was also why the lower classes were less inclined to rebel against their lords. Everyone had a chance at upward mobility. If a daughter or daughter-in-law became a Chosen, the entire family could live comfortably and without worry.
"I've decided to raid my brother," Field announced bluntly, dropping a metaphorical bombshell.
Ashina froze, completely dumbfounded. Am I even supposed to be hearing this?
"Alright, I'll support you unconditionally!" Ashina said after a brief moment of contemplation, realising Field wasn't joking. "You're not a cruel or evil person—I can feel that."
Back when she was a slave, Field had never mistreated her or done anything despicable while she was asleep. On the contrary, he was the most unique individual she had ever met.
He treated demi-humans with equality—perhaps even a bit of affection? That part might be her imagination, but there was no doubt about one thing: Field was a gentleman.
"Thank you," Field said, pouring her a cup of tea. "It's a long story."
He still remembered the twisted, sadistic look in his brother's eyes—a look that had made it impossible for Field to sleep soundly.
His brother had openly threatened to harm the people Field cared about. But Field wasn't like the original owner of this body—a pushover who let others walk all over him.
He would strike back hard—and he had to start preparing now.
"I'll explain everything to you gradually," Field continued. "But I need your help to train a light cavalry unit—one specifically built for raiding."
Thanks to his dear elder sister, who had so kindly "gifted" him twenty warhorses, he now had the perfect opportunity to put them to use.
After finalising their plans, Field wasted no time. The next day, he held a grand assembly for all his subjects—even the slaves were required to attend.
As the people gathered, their eyes were immediately drawn to the wooden chest placed beside Field. It was filled to the brim with silver and copper coins, glittering in the sunlight.
Field didn't start with a lengthy speech. Instead, he calmly pulled out a list.
"Members of the guard, step forward as I call your names to claim your rewards," Field announced, holding up the list. "One silver coin for every undead you've killed. I keep my word."