Hope for Two Thousand Convicts

The guards had just dragged Rook's burly corpse out of the study, and a faint, fishy smell still lingered in the air.

Shien sat behind the log table, his expression indifferent, as if the execution just now was merely a convenient way of clearing away an inconvenient object.

He understood his father quite well; in a team of over two thousand people, there couldn't possibly be only one pair of eyes.

For the old count, delivering supplies was perhaps just a side job; planting spies was the real business.

Shien stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the square outside the Inner Fortress where they were setting up camp.

The Refugees, temporarily appeased by the Highland Defense Line, hot soup, and campfires, mostly had gray or light green Grace Value.

Even in the worst-case scenario, there will be some fluctuations. After all, as long as one wants to live, there can't be no cracks in one's heart.

But amidst this chaotic data, only twelve Knight remained unmoved, their crimson auras above their heads as cold as frozen blood, refusing to loosen even slightly.

"I've found you." Shien withdrew his gaze and wrote down the names of the twelve people one by one on the parchment.

And so, a talent selection process began.

Those whose names are called will be brought in one by one.

Shien completely ignored their declarations of loyalty, only looking at their Grace Value.

Of the twelve people, five were not true suicide squad members.

When Shien was halfway through his recruitment speech, the deep red light above these people's heads would always loosen slightly, jumping up two or three points from the cold negative value.

As long as there is movement, it means there is still desire, and there is still room for change.

Such people would be Shien with a thin line next to the list and kept for later use. They might not be reliable, but with their Resonance Realm strength, they could always be extracted of some value.

But the remaining seven are a different story.

They knelt down faster than anyone else, kowtowed more loudly than anyone else, uttered vows one after another, and even managed to force tears out of their eyes.

Judging from their expressions alone, they all seemed completely moved by the lord's magnanimity and promising future.

But the numbers in Shien's eyes didn't show the slightest ripple; not only did they not move, but two of them even dropped by a few points.

Shien didn't even bother to expose this kind of person.

One corpse after another was dragged into a hidden door behind the bookshelves, and the blood was quickly wiped away.

This cleaning was hardly a problem for him; it was simply a matter of removing the nails the count had planted to prevent them from breaking the entire machine at a crucial moment.

It's true that Blackpine Fief short-staffed right now, but not just anyone can be crammed in.

Those who needed to be killed have been killed; the more important thing now is to win over the majority of the others.

Two thousand Convicts were crammed into the center of the square, their clothes tattered, some with rusty shackles on their hands and feet.

There were farmers who were sold off after going bankrupt, scholars who were stripped of their status for making a slip of the tongue, and soldiers who were sent over in batches for violating military discipline.

A cold wind blew in gusts, and they hunched their necks, their expressions stiff and wooden, as if they were barely clinging to life.

Wearing a coat, Shien stood on the high stone steps, quietly looking down at the lifeless sea of people below.

In his view, the heads of these two thousand people were almost entirely gray, but he didn't think it was a difficult task, after all, he already had a complete template for generating Grace.

Shien took two steps forward, his voice forcefully drowning out the noise in the square. "Raise your heads."

The crowd trembled slightly, and many people subconsciously looked at the boy on the stone steps.

"Now that you have been brought here, you should understand one thing: since the Church and the Kingdom have condemned you and sent you to the Eternal Night Wall, there is no point in arguing about the rights and wrongs of the past."

The square became quieter.

"Some of you feel wronged, some feel they were just unlucky, and some still refuse to accept it."

This isn't Inquisition, not a place for you to plead your case. Here, no one will bring up your past grievances, and no one has time to listen to your past injustices.

These few words silenced much of the lingering hope in the crowd.

Their faces turned pale, and the shoulders of several people who had been trying to stand up straight slowly slumped.

Shien looked at them and continued, "The Long Night Defense Line is not a shelter. No one will give you food just because you're pitiful."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "But..."

As soon as those two words were uttered, the more than two thousand people in the square seemed to hold their breath simultaneously.

"Convicts is not the same as a dead person." Shien stood on the stone steps, his gaze sweeping over each person.

"Since you have been sent to Blackpine Fief, then follow the rules of Blackpine Fief: past sins cannot be washed away by crying."

"If you want to live, if you want to break free of your shackles, if you want to cleanse your sins under the Sacred Flame, then you must exchange your strength, the blood and sweat on your back, and your life on the battlefield."

After he finished speaking, he turned his head and gestured to Ivan.

Ivan strode forward, unfurling a scroll of parchment stamped with the lord's seal. "Blackpine Fief operates on a merit-based system of military service and corvée labor!"

A commotion arose in the crowd, but no one dared to interrupt; they all stared intently at the platform.

Ivan read the file aloud, word by word.

"Digging ditches, transporting stones, ramming earth, carrying iron, repairing walls, and going down into the mine—all are recorded as points. You get points for every bit of work you do, and it's all recorded on the same day. Points can be exchanged for meat soup, warm clothes, a clean bed, medicine, or rest time."

Some people below were stunned, as if they hadn't understood.

Ivan's voice deepened.

"Accumulate 1,000 points, be publicly exonerated of your criminal record, and become a formal commoner in Blackpine Fief!"

At this, the crowd finally trembled, with many people suddenly looking up and opening their mouths, as if they couldn't believe what they had just heard.

"Those who accumulate two thousand points, or who slay Magic Creature during wartime, can obtain a private plot of land within the inner wall, protected by the Sacred Flame!"

If you rank highly in the points system, or demonstrate leadership and competence, regardless of whether you were previously a farmer, laborer, Refugees, or beggar, you can be promoted to foreman, sergeant, or even Commander of the defense line!

The square remained eerily quiet.

When that wave of despair swept over them, the crowd was like a stagnant pool. Now, no one dares to make a sound, but it's not death anymore; they've been completely stunned.

They might not understand many profound principles, but they could roughly grasp what these rules meant.

Working can earn you food, and working harder can help you break free of your shackles and climb the ranks. There might even be a chance to wash away your sins and be allocated a place to stand under the Sacred Flame.

Then, standing on the stone steps, Shien suddenly waved his hand. "Bring it up! Give everyone a bowl as a greeting gift."

The logistics soldiers immediately pushed dozens of large iron pots to the front of the square.

As soon as the wooden lid was lifted, a steaming aroma of meat and spices wafted through the cold wind and into the crowd.

The pot was bubbling with a rich broth, and large chunks of meat rose and fell in the steam, glistening with oil.

The crowd, who had been stubbornly holding on, suddenly found their breathing becoming heavy.

At that very moment, the colors in Shien's vision finally changed.

The gray area began to loosen significantly, like a frozen surface of water being broken open.

First it was a single point, then it connected into a whole.

More and more of the previously dark values jerked, slowly lit up, then quickly faded, and finally turned into patches of light green.

Although not many people crossed the light green area, it was enough for Shien.

This group is not reliable at the moment; if they were directly pushed to the front lines, they would still collapse.

But he never expected those two thousand men to become as loyal as Ivan overnight.

Being able to eat one's fill, wanting to survive, and being willing to move stones, dig ditches, transport ore, and work on construction sites for points—that's enough.

Blackpine Fief lacks most right now is this kind of low-level labor.

More importantly, as the light green area spread out completely, the previously blocked skill panels finally lit up one by one in his field of vision.