Field spat out the half-chewed piece of apple, doubling over in laughter.
The sheer absurdity of someone daring to make advances on such a hideous monster was beyond belief.
"Just like modern tastes," he mused between fits of laughter. "As long as it's female, someone will fancy it."
Wiping away tears from the corners of his eyes, Field's curiosity was piqued.
Would corruption create reproductive isolation between species?
"Poor Steel Fork. In the end, he died from severe lower-body necrosis. His 'little mountain sparrow' turned into a grotesque lump of tumors. His death was excruciatingly painful. Corruption is, after all, the curse of devils. I doubt Steel Fork will ascend to the heavens. Aside from the Chosen, I suspect no living being can resist its effects."
Field closed the book, feeling slightly annoyed by its excessive use of vague and sensational language. For now, he decided to put it aside.
"Lucas is more of an adventurer or explorer. As a scholar, he lacks rigor," Field muttered. "Not all living things are incapable of resisting corruption. Plants, for instance, seem to fare better."
He recalled the green plants they had collected from Rum Village. Unlike the fleshy tendrils and grotesque lumps, these plants were untainted.
"Haah!"
A sharp cry pierced the silence outside the window.
Field's hand trembled, nearly tipping the tea cup he had brought to his lips. The steaming tea splashed onto his hand, scalding him slightly, but worse was the thought of his wet clothes. In the chill of Nightfall Territory, damp garments were a nightmare to dry.
Field glanced at the minimap. There were no skull markers.
"Looks like another idiot who couldn't keep his urges in check," Field muttered, rubbing his temples. With slaves mingling together, incidents of violence and coercion were inevitable. Even the whip could only suppress instincts so much.
Slaves didn't have the right to reproduce, though most of them were too malnourished to even consider it. Survival, not lineage, was their primary concern.
"Sir!"
A flurry of footsteps echoed down the hallway, followed by an urgent knock at the door.
"Come in. What is it?" Field asked, moving to the window for a quick look. Outside, the darkness was oppressive as always, the torches below casting flickering light. Amidst the shadows, he could just make out several panicked faces gathered near the flames.
It was clear the situation was more serious than he'd assumed.
The servant boy, Jug, crawled into the room, trembling as he prostrated himself before Field.
"Sir, there's big trouble in the territory!" Jug stammered, his voice shaking.
Field's heart sank, but he maintained a calm demeanor. "Don't panic. Explain what happened."
"Bandits! Armed bandits attacked the territory!" Jug's words tumbled out, his hands quivering uncontrollably as they pressed against the floor. "A few slaves went to the fields to relieve themselves, and suddenly, bandits emerged from the grey mist! They used spears to kill two of them and took a female slave with them!"
Field stepped forward, his expression darkening. "They didn't press the attack? They retreated instead?"
"Yes, they left immediately after," Jug confirmed, his voice still laced with fear.
"Damn it all!" Field cursed loudly.
Bandits with enough intelligence to retreat? In this toxic, godforsaken wasteland? Could anything be more absurd?
Well, perhaps his lovely stepmother and siblings.
It was possible. If they had gotten wind of his connection to a Chosen, the situation could become truly dangerous.
Field glanced at the minimap again, but there was still nothing out of the ordinary.
He recalled Connor's cavalry from before—markers only appeared when they got within a certain range. It seemed the minimap's warning radius was limited and more effective for Chosen and corrupted creatures than for ordinary threats.
"Notify everyone else to take shelter on the first floor of the grand winery. I'm going after them," Field said, grabbing his longsword from the rack and striding downstairs.
Ashina was already examining the corpses outside. When she saw Field approach, she immediately looked apologetic. "I'm sorry for disturbing your rest, Sir. Letting enemies infiltrate the territory was my failure."
"It's not your fault. We don't even have walls yet. It's no surprise enemies managed to slip through."
Ashina had fought valiantly the entire day. If fatigue had caused her to miss the threat, it was entirely understandable.
Field crouched beside one of the bodies, tugging at the foul-smelling, tattered cloth covering it. His brow furrowed as he tilted his head in confusion.
"The wound on the abdomen… the angle of the stab is upwards. Were these bandits… dwarves?"
"That is indeed strange," Ashina murmured, rubbing her smooth chin thoughtfully while rhythmically bouncing her leg. The subtle jiggle of her pale thighs helped her focus. "They might not be humans… perhaps those detestable dwarves."
Field felt his earlier anxiety ease slightly. Things might not be as bad as he had feared—at least, not life-threatening.
"Ashina, can your wolf track the enemy's scent?"
Using a draconic wolf as a tracking dog sounded utterly absurd, yet here he was.
Ashina slapped her forehead, as if chiding herself for not thinking of it sooner. "Of course it can!"
"Take me with you. I need to see what kind of mangy mutts dare to attack my territory." Field's voice was cold with fury. He was nothing like his predecessor, who was far too kind-hearted for this harsh world. "I'll smash their damn heads in!"
Ashina, well acquainted with Field's temperament by now, smiled warmly. "Of course, my lord! I'll be your sword!"
The draconic wolf sniffed at the corpse a few times before its glowing blue eyes fixed on a direction—northeast of Nightfall Territory.
"The enemies fled that way," Ashina reported.
Good. They hadn't run south. That meant the attackers likely weren't human after all.
"Clink, clank!"
Around ten slave guards stumbled out in varying states of undress, many of them still struggling to don their armour. Their groggy, half-asleep faces made Field's jaw twitch with frustration. He opened his mouth to reprimand them but stopped himself.
Expecting soldiers in this era to act with the discipline of Huaxia's military was a pipe dream.
Clearly, the guards had been sleeping soundly—so soundly that by the time Field was ready to set out, most of them had only just woken up.
"I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner," he muttered to himself.
"You stay here and guard the territory. Don't let the enemy double back for a sneak attack."
Field had no intention of bringing the sluggish guards along. Speed was key for the chase, and by the time the troops were fully assembled, the enemy would likely be long gone.
"Discipline training needs to be prioritized," he muttered.
An undisciplined army was useless in battle—barely capable of protecting the most basic territorial assets.
Ashina pulled Field onto the draconic wolf. With the help of Field's minimap, they could greatly reduce the risk of ambushes.
The moment Field mounted the wolf, he noticed how incredibly stable it was—even more so than a horse.
Riding a horse wasn't particularly difficult. Once a rider learned to balance and got used to the motion, they often found it simpler than riding a bicycle. Unlike a bike, a horse had intelligence—many expert riders could even nap in the saddle. Ashina's draconic wolf, however, was on a whole other level. Its rugged scales, which appeared sharp at first glance, automatically smoothed and folded into seamless surfaces that didn't prick or poke, resembling a finely crafted modern masterpiece.
"Let's move out!"
With that, the two charged into the grey mist atop the wolf.
The surroundings blurred rapidly, the wind howling past their ears. The wolf's speed was astonishing, more akin to a subway train than a mount.
In just four minutes, Ashina spotted the enemy hiding within the dense, corrupted forest.