A military workshop belonging to the Radiance Church stood on an island.
"Listen up, everyone. The weapons you're forging this time are for the soldiers. These are military supplies."
"Our brave warriors are fighting at the front, and we cannot slack off here in the rear. I know you were all conscripted from far and wide, so I'll tell you once more: whether you came willingly, were forced here, or are prisoners, once you're here, you can have only one goal-to work hard. Once the war ends, every one of you will receive a substantial reward and gain the status of a free citizen."
"But if any of you dares to shirk your work, hmph, military punishment will be far harsher than my whip!"
One of the workshop managers paced back and forth before the crowd, whip in hand. His words were half reassurance, half threat.
The four or five hundred men before him were all dark-skinned, sturdy, and powerfully built. Grunting with effort, they hammered sheets of iron.
Under the manager's threats, none dared make any overt move.
Numerous overseers surrounded them, and outside, even more soldiers patrolled.
Though these craftsmen were numerous and strong, that was only compared with ordinary people. They might barely put up a fight against the overseers, but confronting the regular troops outside would mean certain death.
Perhaps the sun was too fierce that day, for the murmuring in the crowd would not stop. No one made any bold moves, but everyone muttered and spoke in low voices. One or two men might not have dared speak, but when everyone around them was whispering, they felt fearless, trusting that an entire crowd could not be punished.
"Quiet, all of you!" Seeing the noisy scene threatening to slip out of control, the manager finally lost