Followers Ascend

There was nothing to report overnight.

The next morning, the sky began to show the first light of dawn.

Old Walker opened his shop as usual to do business. Just as he removed the shutter, several people tumbled like rolling gourds to his feet. Looking closely, they were the same lowlifes from yesterday.

He was stunned for a moment, only snapping back to reality when they scrambled out the door in a panic. He looked up and saw that the already narrow street was filled with people lying about haphazardly.

If not for the rise and fall of their chests and the occasional snores, he would have thought it was the scene of a mass murder. Who would believe that in the cold early winter, people would be sleeping outside his door, braving the wind and snow?

Fortunately, the snow had stopped the previous evening, otherwise, a few would surely have frozen to death.

Tommy, the lackey, was dozing off in front of a pile of rye bread. Like these lowlifes, he had spent the night outside Old Walker's shop.

The lowlifes woke up one after another. They shook off the dirt and fallen snow from their bodies and walked towards the dozing lackey.

Hungry and cold, one of the lowlifes boldly nudged the still soundly sleeping Tommy. "Master Tommy, Master Tommy, we've been here for sixteen hours. Could you possibly..."

Tommy, the lackey, was woken by the lowlifes. He waved his hand impatiently and reprimanded them, "What's all the noise? Do I owe you anything?"

After he finished, he stretched vigorously, rubbed his eyes, and yawned as he ordered, "Everyone line up."

The lowlifes moved in unison, forming a long, winding line, waiting for him to distribute food.

Tommy sat askew on the ground, casually handing out rye bread. It didn't matter if he gave more or less; the rye bread was worthless anyway.

These farmers were quite honest. They took whatever they were given, and no one spoke rudely about receiving too little bread.

However, there were too many people in line. By the time the bread was gone, more than half of them had not received their due reward. "What's going on? Is there no more bread? Are you trying to trick us!"

Discordant voices began to emerge from the crowd, growing louder and louder, with a tendency to escalate.

Tommy couldn't help but frown. Then, in his usual flippant tone, he lectured, "What's all the noise about? If you keep this up, I'll have the guards throw you into the water dungeon."

The surrounding chatter immediately ceased. Clearly, his threat carried significant weight.

The water dungeon was a place for serious offenders. It was easy to get in, but almost impossible to get out.

Tommy picked at his ear, scanned his surroundings, and quickly locked onto his target. He pointed at a sturdy young man in the crowd. "That... Tre..."

"Tracy Hayden." The other person agilely weaved through the crowd and ran up to Tommy, stating his name.

Tommy raised an eyebrow in surprise, increasingly feeling that this seemingly simple person was not as straightforward as he appeared. At the very least, compared to the numb lowlifes, he possessed more quick-wittedness and cunning.

As for strength, it could only be described as adequate.

Tommy unceremoniously ordered, "Go buy some rye bread."

With that, he tossed out two silver coins, which landed accurately in the other person's hand. "Go quickly and come back quickly. I don't want to ruin Young Master Renard's years of accumulated reputation over such a trivial matter."

Reputation? The surrounding lowlifes subtly curled their lips. Even if only two people were left alive in Saint Brieuc Fortress, that word would never apply to Renard.

However, Tracy, the newcomer, had no objections. He responded with a "Yes" and strode towards the newly opened bakery.

Tommy wasn't afraid of him running off with the money. Unless he didn't want to make a living in Saint Brieuc Fortress, who would dare offend him, Renard's capable lackey? Of course, "capable" was a self-proclaimed title.

Tracy's efficiency was not slow. Five minutes later, he returned with two packages.

The packages were heavy. Even with the strength of a Beginner Swordsman, he still felt the strain while running.

Upon reaching them, Tracy placed the packages on the ground, and rye bread immediately spilled out.

He panted, returning the remaining dozens of copper coins. "Eighty kilograms of rye bread in total, costing one hundred and sixty copper coins. Here are the remaining forty copper coins. Please take them."

"Mm!" Tommy took the copper coins, weighed them, and showed a satisfied expression. He then tossed a few coins back to Tracy and asked, "Interested in working for me?"

"Working for you?" Tracy's expression was hesitant; he didn't agree immediately.

"Well, to be precise, it's not working for me." Tommy pondered for a moment before changing his wording. "We'll be following Young Master Renard. He's the future lord of Saint Brieuc Fortress. What do you say, interested?"

Hearing this, the hesitation on Tracy's face slowly faded, and he nodded solemnly. "If that's the case, I would certainly be overjoyed."

Tommy tilted his head noncommittally, patting Tracy's shoulder. "Don't worry, Young Master Renard never mistreats his subordinates, provided they are loyal enough."

His tone suddenly became heavier on the last two words, as if issuing a warning.

Tracy's expression froze. He solemnly raised his right hand and swore to the gods, "I swear on my life to the gods that I will show unparalleled loyalty to Young Master Renard."

Hearing this, Tommy's expression became incredibly complex. The guy actually swore an oath to the gods to gain Young Master Renard's favor. Such an oath was practically unbreakable.

He couldn't help but think, This kid is really going all out to win Renard's favor!

If Scum Renard heard this news, it was highly likely that the title of "number one lackey" would fall to this newcomer.

It was a shame that Renard was no longer the scumbag he once was. The soul now occupying this body held an extremely contemptuous attitude towards such oaths.

However, Tommy had already let down his guard towards Tracy and began to treat him like a companion. The first change was sharing. "This is the reward Young Master Renard paid for completing this mission."

Tommy took out four silver coins and gave two to Tracy. "Half for you. How much you can keep depends on your own abilities."

After saying that, he gave a knowing smile.

"Thank you!" Tracy nodded gratefully and naturally stood beside him, looking down at the lowlifes with disdain. It was that simple to change a person.

The lowlifes' gazes began to shift evasively. Those with a bit of courage showed expressions of contempt, while more people displayed envy and jealousy.

No one knew that this sturdy young man named Tracy would become renowned throughout the Barren Land in the next ten years.