The other soldiers gradually awoke after Guard Captain Kool fell to his knees.
Feeling the powerful strength surging through their bodies, they were instantly overcome with excitement.
"Goddess above! I—I've changed into a Rare Profession?!"
"Hahahahaha! I've gotten stronger! I'm stronger now!"
"I can throw a spear hard enough to pin a bison to the ground!"
"Praise Lord Loren!"
The newly promoted soldiers erupted into excited chatter, their gazes fixed on Loren with fervent admiration.
They hadn't expected the reward Loren had given them to be so generous.
A Rare Profession!
A Rare Profession worth a million Puke!
What had they done to deserve this?
Great Goddess, please protect the merciful and mighty Lord Loren. A great figure like him deserves to live for ten thousand years!
Their loyalty soared in an instant.
More than half of them climbed straight to 80 points, reaching high loyalty. The rest hovered at 78 or 79.
Just moments ago, the human army's morale had been wavering. Now, in the space of a few short minutes, it had reached its peak, and their loyalty to Loren had risen to unprecedented heights!
The old steward Bohr stood to one side, utterly dumbfounded.
His mind was in even greater turmoil.
Though he was only Bronze Grade, as a man in his sixties, he had seen plenty.
Since when had changing professions—something notoriously difficult—become so easy?
Could a few casual words really help subordinates change professions successfully?
What kind of joke was this?!
The white-haired old man felt as if everything he knew was about to shatter.
As the cheering below began to subside, Loren turned to the old steward Bohr, who still looked dazed.
"Mr. Bohr, sorry for the trouble, but please take some people to the warehouse and fetch a few suitable javelins. I want to test their strength."
The steward's unfocused gaze sharpened again. He looked at Loren, who was treating all this as perfectly natural, and his lips trembled as if he wanted to say something. In the end, though, no words came.
After taking two deep breaths, he replied respectfully,
"Yes, Master Loren. Please wait a moment."
He then led several soldiers toward the estate's warehouse.
Before coming to Gray Eagle Territory, Loren's predecessor had purchased a great deal of military equipment. They didn't have many javelins, but there were a few.
Once Steward Bohr had gone, he looked at the excited soldiers beside him. He held back for a long while, but in the end, he couldn't resist asking,
"You really changed professions successfully?"
Several red-faced soldiers answered with excitement.
"Yes, Steward. Lord Loren is truly amazing.
"Our minds were filled with all kinds of knowledge about throwing spears, and our strength has increased tremendously, too."
"That's right, Mr. Bohr. Do you think Lord Loren might be a mage? This is incredible!"
"Lord Loren must be a mage! Who else could possess such power?"
"Praise Lord Loren!"
Steward Bohr's cloudy eyes took in the soldiers dancing about, practically ready to fall to their knees and praise Loren. His mind was in even greater turmoil.
After a long while, as if he had thought of something, the old steward's tense expression suddenly relaxed. He laughed heartily and said,
"Whether or not Master Loren is a mage, you should all be grateful.
"To be ruled by such a merciful lord is a gift from the gods.
"Be thankful. We may never meet another lord as kind as Master Loren."
The others nodded in agreement. They marveled at their good fortune: to have met the kind and mighty Lord Loren, they must have been blessed by the Goddess of Fortune.
Their respect and admiration for Loren surged once more.
For a while, they even seemed to walk with a spring in their step.
Half an hour later, six rows of wooden stakes stood on a withered, grassy clearing in front of the estate.
Each row was 30 meters apart. The first and sixth rows were 150 meters apart in total (1–50, 2–80, 3–110, 4–140, 5–170, 6–200).
Loren stood with the newly promoted Javelinists at the throwing line, 50 meters from the first row of stakes. His gaze was full of anticipation.
"Kool, begin."
At the command, Kool tightened his grip on his javelin and stepped forward with the other nine Javelinists, ready to throw.
The javelins were about a meter long, made of tough, moderately weighted ebony. Their spearheads were shaped like arrowheads and gleamed with a cold light.
No one doubted their lethality. Even a brown bear would likely perish if struck.
Loren watched them carefully. Their throwing form was impeccable: bodies bent slightly backward, like drawn bows, their movements smooth and fluid.
After a brief windup, the Javelinists launched their first attack before Loren.
Guard Captain Kool moved first. His body sprang forward like a released coil, and he charged several steps before hurling his javelin.
The other Javelinists followed suit.
Whoosh, whoosh—
The sound of spearpoints tearing through the air was like the snarling of beasts, sharp and terrifying.
In the blink of an eye, the javelins hurtled forward with the force of lightning and struck the first row of stakes.
Thwack! Wood chips flew everywhere. Every ten-centimeter-thick stake was pierced through. Several even snapped apart under the javelins' immense force. The sight was astonishing.
Loren nodded with satisfaction. At 50 meters, their lethality was at its peak.
"Continue."
Seeing the strength of their attacks, the ten Javelinists taking part in the test were thrilled.
They picked up their javelins again and aimed at the second row of stakes, 80 meters away.
They gathered their strength, charged, and threw.
Whoosh, whoosh—
Crack!
The same thing happened again. The javelins pierced the stakes, and not one missed.
Guard Captain Kool's javelin even passed through a stake and sank deep into the earth behind it.
Their lethality was astonishing.
"Continue."
Loren grew more and more interested. The Javelinists' power and range seemed to exceed his expectations.
The ten Javelinists then attacked the third row, 110 meters away. Loren couldn't see clearly from so far off, but he wasn't in a hurry to go closer.
After the fourth row at 140 meters, the fifth at 170, and the sixth at 200, the six rounds of throws were complete. Only then did Loren ask the ten Javelinists beside him, all still in excellent shape and not even breathing hard,
"At this pace, how many times can you throw while maintaining your full strength?"
Throwing was hard physical labor. Each throw required an explosive effort from the whole body. After just two or three throws, weaker people would see their performance plummet.
But these Javelinists surprised him once again.
"My lord, I think I can throw twenty times! After that, my strength will start to drop, and my range and lethality will decline, too."
"I feel about the same."
"That's right. Twenty times at most."
Kool looked around at the soldiers with a proud expression. He was Silver Grade, and his strength was more than a little greater than that of a Bronze Grade soldier.
"Lord Loren, I think I can throw about thirty times."
Once all ten had answered, Loren had a rough idea.
A Bronze Grade Javelinist could throw about twenty times at full strength. Kool was the only Silver Grade example, so Loren estimated that he could manage thirty.
For these forty soldiers, that meant 800 javelins.
Used properly, that force could produce astonishing results.
"Come on, let's take a look at the targets farther back."
The third row of stakes stood 110 meters away. He could see that the javelins had dealt considerable damage, but not the details.
Loren went to the first row of stakes, 50 meters away. None of the ten javelins had missed. The roughly ten-centimeter-thick stakes had been pierced through, and several had even burst apart. The sight was brutal.
The second row, at 80 meters, was much the same as the first.
The difference appeared at the third row, 110 meters away. Two javelins had missed, and three had failed to pierce the stakes.
The results at the fourth row, 140 meters away, were worse. Four of the ten javelins had missed, and only two had pierced their targets.
At the fifth row, 170 meters away, only one of the ten javelins had hit, and it hadn't pierced the stake, sinking only four or five centimeters into it.
At the sixth row, 200 meters away, every javelin had missed.
After examining the results, Loren had a clear idea of the Javelinists' capabilities.
Within 100 meters, their power was at its greatest. Their accuracy and lethality were both impressive. From 100 to 150 meters, they entered their second range, where their accuracy and power gradually declined.
Beyond 150 meters, they were no longer much of a threat. Their accuracy and power dropped sharply, making them far less dangerous to the enemy.
"Javelinists are extremely lethal at short range, but they're weak at medium and long range."
Loren looked at Kool.
"Now test your skill. Aim at the targets in the last row and throw."
The Javelinists had an explosive skill called Deadly Throw (C-class). They used all their strength to hurl a spear, greatly increasing the damage it dealt.
It was undoubtedly the Javelinists' signature skill.
The ten Javelinists returned to their starting point.
Under Loren's watchful gaze, their auras gradually surged. Even their eyes grew bloodshot.
The muscles in their arms bulged, and veins writhed beneath their skin like earthworms. The sight was astonishing.
Their bodies bent sharply, compressing like springs to their limit before suddenly bursting into action.
They charged forward at incredible speed and threw their javelins.
Whoosh—
A fierce rush of air filled the clearing as the javelins flew, seeming to tear through everything in their path.
Crack!
The sound of splintering wood rang out.
Several stakes snapped, and broken pieces flew more than ten meters.
Loren immediately led everyone forward to inspect the targets.
The stakes were a complete mess. This time, only five of the ten javelins had missed. All five that hit pierced their targets, shattering several stakes into splinters.
The power of this skill was not to be underestimated.
Loren grew even more excited.
These Javelinists really had something. Even from 200 meters away, they could unleash such powerful attacks.
They were absolutely not to be underestimated.
Expecting even more, Loren had the Javelinists throw dozens of rounds and conducted a variety of tests.
They tested concentrated fire, rapid throws, maximum lethality, and maximum range.
Only after the newly promoted Javelinists were so exhausted they could barely lift their arms did Loren finally call it off, reluctantly.
The series of tests had given him a much clearer understanding of the Javelinists' strength.
Though an individual Javelinist couldn't compare to a barbarian in combat, the Javelinists were still incredibly valuable.
Within 100 meters, they could pierce ordinary armor. Their skill, Deadly Throw, was even more powerful.
When activated, it nearly doubled their damage. Ordinary shields couldn't stop it, and, more importantly, they could use the skill for three consecutive volleys.
If they focused their fire on a single target, a Platinum-grade powerhouse might be able to withstand it through sheer combat strength and superior skill, but even a Gold-grade fighter would be severely wounded, if not killed.
And that was before the Javelinists had activated their bond. If their unit reached its full complement of 100, their accuracy would increase by 30 percent. Even a Platinum-grade powerhouse would have a hard time.
Their only drawback was that using the skill reduced the number of ordinary throws they could make from twenty to ten. It was a trade-off: fewer throws for greater power.
After the tests, Loren was very pleased with the Javelinists.
Their combat strength had improved by more than a single level compared to the soldiers before!
"Recover all the javelins. We have no resources to waste.
"I'll have a new batch of javelins forged for your training."
The soldiers were utterly exhausted, but their spirits were high. Loren gave them another order.
"Kool, I appoint you commander of the Javelinist corps.
"You must train them as rigorously as possible over the next half month.
"I need every Javelinist to hit an enemy accurately within 100 meters, and to maintain a hit rate of at least 90 percent within 150 meters."
Though the soldiers had successfully changed professions, that didn't mean they had reached the end. It was only the beginning of their new profession.
How much of their potential they could unlock would depend on their training from here on.
There was no way around it: the only path to greater accuracy was long-term, high-intensity practice.
"Understood, Lord Loren! We won't let you down!"
Kool was extremely excited. The strength in his body made it clear that he was several times stronger than before.
And all of it had been granted by Lord Loren.
Praise the Goddess! He would repay Lord Loren with everything he had!
Loren said nothing more and turned to the excited crowd.
The carrot-and-stick approach had never gone out of style. They had received their reward; now it was time for the stick.
His expression turned serious.
"In the future, the army will be sacred ground in Gray Eagle Territory.
Three days from now, I will announce a new set of military regulations. Anyone who violates them will be dealt with under military law.
The law allows no exceptions. I've given you strength to defend the territory and protect the family and friends at your side—not to fight for the sake of proving yourselves or bully civilians!
Do you hear me?"
The murderous edge in his voice made everyone's heart skip a beat.
Staring at Loren, who had undergone a complete transformation, they immediately shouted their response.
"We hear you!"
Loren frowned.
"What, didn't you eat? I'll ask you again. Do you hear me?!"
Everyone roared, "We hear you!!"
But Loren still didn't stop. He shouted, "Do you hear me??"
All the soldiers roared furiously, "We hear you!!"
The tremendous volume made several servants passing by in the distance turn around in astonishment.
How had an army whose morale had been so low that morning suddenly become like a completely different force?
That imposing presence was truly something else.
"His lordship really is capable. He's restored the troops' morale so quickly."
"Is this really that lifeless army?"
"This is astonishing."
The steward, Bohr, gazed at Loren with a complicated look in his cloudy eyes. There was surprise, disbelief, and an unmistakable delight.
Lord Loren, at last you've let the brilliance of a descendant of the Orchid Family shine through.
Is this the real you?!
Loren looked at the soldiers, whose bearing had clearly changed, and spoke with firm resolve.
"Remember this spirit. There have never been cowards or weaklings among my soldiers!
Kool, dismiss everyone."
Kool shouted his reply.
"Yes!!"
After Loren turned and left, Kool addressed the soldiers below, who stood with their heads held high.
"Everyone, dismissed! Those assigned to patrol, follow the plan!"
The soldiers below immediately roared, "Yes!"
The troops that had been so listless just moments ago now showed hints of becoming an elite force.
Before you continue