"Graeme, you've been with the Tatum Tribe for quite some time now. How have we treated you?"
Chieftain Stark's friendly question gave Graeme a fright. If he answered honestly, this would be a straight-up death trap.
A slave overseer was still a slave. Aside from being able to order others to work, his treatment was only slightly better than that of ordinary Pigmen.
As for status, there was even less to say. What status could a slave possibly have? Any Minotaur in the tribe could beat and kick him at will.
If his newfound inheritance had not improved his ability to take a beating, whether he could have survived until now would have been uncertain.
"Chieftain, the tribe's kindness to me is as great as Mount Ula! If the tribe had not taken me in, Graeme would not know in which corner he would have died.
"After coming to the tribe, I was even promoted to overseer. This was a life Graeme never would have dared dream of before!"
Graeme knelt on the ground and spoke through tears of gratitude.
His strength had not yet had time to improve, but his acting had already reached perfection. The effect was obvious as well. Chieftain Stark appreciated people who knew how to read the situation.
"Very good. Since you possess such awareness, I'll give you a good assignment.
"Take your people and establish yourselves east of the Cursed Land, guarding the empire's frontier.
"From this moment on, you, Graeme, are the commander of the Pigmen Legion of the Empire's Border Defense Army, as well as the new chieftain of this Pigmen tribe!"
The moment Chieftain Stark finished speaking, Graeme's eyes brimmed with tears, and he was so excited that he could not say a word.
Gratitude? That was complete nonsense. Becoming a