Quelling the Army (4)

"Now!" He pointed his Myr Sword at the chest filled with Silver Stags. "Make your choice!"

"Those willing to live and die with me! Those who trust in my promise!"

"Come forward! One person! Take one Silver Stag!" Three Silver Stags were equivalent to a year's income for a farmer's family.

"But! From the moment you take a Silver Stag! I will consider you to have accepted my promise! You become my soldiers! You will execute my military orders!"

Silence did not last long.

One by one, then another, and another—some trembling, some weeping, some silent—they walked to the chest and took their own Silver Stag.

They all knew and understood that Suleiman was right; they had no way back. If they fled, their lands would be stripped away, and their families would even be hanged.

They had no other choice but to believe in Suleiman's promise and oath.

Lushen and Roslyn watched the crowd come up to take the Silver Stags, their faces pained. In truth, Suleiman's own heart was bleeding, but he understood one principle: wealth is an external possession! When it must be spent, it must be spent!

Suleiman watched as everyone stepped forward to take all the Silver Stags from the chest, knowing it was time for the next step.

"From this moment on! You are my soldiers!"

Seeing the soldiers return to their ranks and stand at attention, their gazes converged upon him once more.

"Lady Roslin has made a promise to me."

"All spoils from our expedition! Shall belong to me and be at my disposal!"

The soldiers heard this and looked at one another, not knowing what this had to do with them.

When noble lords went to war, wasn't it only natural for them to take the spoils? They were lucky enough to keep their lives; why tell them, the conscripts, about such things?

Suleiman's gaze swept across their questioning faces, then he raised his voice, enunciating every word to say something that made the entire encampment erupt:

"Now! I make a promise to you! All spoils!"

"I shall take only half! The remaining half! Shall be divided among you according to your military merit!"

To ensure they heard the key point clearly, he reiterated loudly:

"Divided by military merit!"

In an instant, the entire camp fell into a brief and eerie silence. No one made a sound; it was so quiet one could even hear the wind whistling.

Suleiman did not think they failed to hear or understand these words.

Because, illuminated by the flames in the dark night, he saw in their eyes that the fear and unease had been replaced by ambition, greed, and desire!

They shone with a sharp light, like vicious dogs and hungry wolves!

In a world similar to the Middle Ages, hard work was meaningless, for no matter how much they labored, they could barely scrape by.

After paying taxes to the lord, they would even go hungry by the end of the year, not to mention if a disaster year struck.

Yet, raiding was undoubtedly the most profitable and fastest way to gain wealth. Although it violated the laws of the Seven Kingdoms, many still fell into banditry. Everyone hated the Ironborn, yet everyone envied them—they paid the Iron Price and took salt wives!

In just one day! They could earn what would take ten years, or even a lifetime!

In just one day! They could change their own fate and that of their families!

"Are you speaking the truth! Lord Suleiman!" someone in the crowd shouted loudly!

"With the Seven as my witness! Not a word shall change!" Suleiman replied.

The soldiers' faces were filled with disbelief. They stared fixedly at Suleiman, trying to judge the truth of his words from his expression!

The wolfish, tiger-like glint in their eyes made Lushen and Roslyn tighten their grips on their swords!

The fear had not vanished; it had simply been overwhelmed by ambition, greed, and desire. They saw the massive temptation placed before them!

They saw an opportunity to transcend their social class through violence!

They saw another life within their reach!

No longer the year-round backbreaking labor that only provided enough to survive, no longer the drafty shacks made of grass and mud, no longer the monotonous food that noble lords fed to their pigs!

They saw rich food, exquisite clothing, sturdy houses, beautiful women, and even the prospect of owning their own servants!

The soldiers' breathing became heavy and rapid, their eyes turning greedy and scorching.

The previously listless ranks now seemed to have been injected with a new vitality.

A vitality filled with aggression and animalistic wildness!

It was as if they were no longer forced conscripted farmers, but ambitious men willing to risk everything for wealth!

Suleiman stood on the high platform, watching the scene before him, and he knew he had succeeded.

He had used the simplest and crudest method to ignite the desires of these bottom-tier commoners who had been forced to obey their lord's commands.

He did not need a group of submissive conscripts who didn't know what they were doing and only knew how to obey mechanically.

Such men would only be lambs for the slaughter once they reached the battlefield, possessing no combat effectiveness, merely awaiting their final end!

He wanted a group of Warriors who could fight.

Now he had them—a group of ambitious men who would fight to earn a larger share of the spoils, to change their lives, and to ensure their families could live well.

They were no longer being forced onto the battlefield; they were walking onto it of their own free will!

Suleiman looked around, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings and across their faces. From this moment on, this troop finally possessed a true soul—a soul of ambition, greed, and desire.

"Very good!" Suleiman's voice was not loud, yet every soldier heard it, and to their ears, it sounded incredibly sweet.

"Remember the choice you made today! We are all in the same boat!"

"If the ship sinks, we shall go to the Seven-Gods Temple together!"

"If the ship reaches the shore, we shall divide the gold and treasures together!"

Suleiman drew his Myr Sword and pointed it toward them, his gaze sharp: "Come! Let us use our blades! For me! For yourselves! Let us seize the wealth that belongs to us!"

The soldiers let out high-pitched, excited roars. Their eyes were filled with ambitious desire, as if they could already see the mountains of gold and jewelry piled before them, as if they could already smell the scent of money!

The crowd shouted fervently, drawing their longswords and waving them vigorously as if they had an inexhaustible supply of strength:

"Long live Lord Suleiman!"

"Long live Lord Suleiman!"

"Long live Lord Suleiman!"

Toman, the soldier who had intended to desert, gripped the Silver Stag in his palm with trembling hands.

The texture of the silver coin felt so real!

He thought of his father, his mother, and his two younger sisters; he thought of the plight at home, where they had been forced to betroth his young sister to another family just to survive.

His home was so impoverished. He recalled his father's parting words: "Toman, you are the eldest son and the only male in the family; you must take good care of your mother and your two sisters."

He thought of his mother's withered hands, how she had gripped his own tightly while weeping bitterly before he left. He thought of his sensible sisters, who had been promised to old men in exchange for food just to avoid starvation.

And now, he looked at Suleiman on the high platform—this lord! This Lord Suleiman!

He had given him a chance! A chance that might change his life! A chance to change the lives of his family!