Groups of slaves, bound with chains and ropes, stepped onto the lands of the Red Tide Fief under the slave traders' guidance.
Their eyes were filled with unease as they wondered what fate awaited them.
Yet when they entered the fief, they froze.
Clean houses, orderly roads, the smell of cooking smoke drifting through the air...
This was nothing like the slave camps they remembered.
There were no filthy tents pitched in mud, nor any rotting food giving off a foul stench.
Even the soldiers guarding them showed none of the usual contempt or disdain. They simply maintained order calmly.
The slaves only grew more apprehensive. The more unfamiliar things were, the more unsettling they felt.
But that was only their first impression. What truly stunned them was what the lord said in the square the next day...
Early that morning, the Red Tide Fief's square teemed with people.
The fifteen hundred newly arrived slaves had been assembled there in orderly ranks.
Louis's voice rang across the square. "Welcome to the Red Tide Fief."
Those few words left many of them bewildered. They had been sold here, yet they were being "welcomed"?
Louis continued, "You may think of this as just another place like those you've known, but I hope it can become the place where your lives begin anew."
The slaves exchanged looks, their eyes still wary.
"I won't make you work for nothing. The Red Tide Fief will provide a steady supply of food, shelter, and work. Your labor won't be wasted needlessly. Every drop of sweat you shed will mean something."
"More importantly..." He paused for a moment, then slowly spoke the next words:
"Here, as long as you work hard enough, you can shed your slave status."
Boom!
The slaves' hearts jolted, and an uproar swept through the square!
"...What?!"
"What did he just say?"
"How is that possible...?!"
Freedom?
They still had a chance to gain their freedom?
Was there really a master in this world willing to give up his slaves?
They had been bought and sold, ordered about, and long since grown used to the shackles that bound them. They no longer dared hope to change their fate.
It was a promise so wonderful that it seemed absurd.
The whispers in the square grew louder and louder. Some were excited; others were bewildered and at a loss...
But most sneered, doubt filling their eyes. They had heard too many lies.
Louis took it all in, but he believed time would prove everything.
Several days passed, and the slaves gradually adjusted to their new surroundings.
Morning sunlight spilled over the streets of the Red Tide Fief, bringing a warmth seldom felt in the Northern Frontier.
A young slave stood outside a wooden house, holding a bowl of steaming wheat porridge and staring at it in a slight daze.
This was his breakfast, a generous portion larger than what he used to receive for an entire day.
Not far away, other slaves emerged from their houses one after another, gathering in small groups around braziers to keep warm.
"The beds here are more comfortable than the straw mats I used to sleep on," an old slave said quietly.
"They are," another agreed, his expression conflicted.
There were no endless beatings and insults here. They had plenty of food every day, and their lodgings were practically heaven compared with their former slave camps.
What shocked them most was seeing Freemen with their own eyes.
"Hey, are you a slave?" a young slave timidly asked a craftsman who was repairing a road.
The man lowered his stone hammer, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and smiled. "I used to be."
The young slave's eyes widened. "But... but now you..."
The craftsman grinned. "I worked hard, so the lord granted me the status of a Freeman."
"Really?" His voice trembled.
"Of course." The craftsman patted his shoulder. "As long as you do good work, the lord won't shortchange anyone."
More and more examples like this appeared.
They saw Freemen in the fields, and Freemen in the smithy...
Those former slaves now wore decent clothes and lived with their heads held high.
At that moment, the slaves' doubts began to waver.
They began to believe that perhaps... freedom was not an empty promise.
As time passed, their fear gradually faded, replaced by a growing sense of belonging in the Red Tide Fief and a longing for the future.
As long as we're willing to work hard, we can do it too!
That thought quietly spread among the slaves, slowly kindling the sparks of hope.
They no longer merely obeyed passively, but began to put real effort into their work.
They began to feel genuine gratitude toward the person who had given them this chance-the young lord.
Whenever he inspected the mines or workshops, the slaves would instinctively pause their work.
They watched him leave, their eyes holding more than awe now. There was also an indescribable trust and respect.
Of course, the influx of so many people brought not only labor, but also challenges that could not be ignored.
Food was not much of a problem. Existing reserves and support from the family ensured ample supplies, but housing became a thorny issue.
The Red Tide Fief had originally had a small population, and houses had been built only as needed.
Now, with fifteen hundred slaves arriving all at once, the once fairly ample accommodations suddenly became cramped.
Still, with everyone squeezing in a little, there was room for them all.
The slaves were assigned to the existing semi-subterranean longhouses, temporarily sharing lodgings with the fief's original residents.
Elsewhere, such an arrangement might have sparked resentment or even conflict, but the situation in the Red Tide Fief remained remarkably stable.
Everyone trusted the lord's promise to speed up the construction of new homes.
What was more, craftsmen had already begun laying foundations on the outskirts. New homes were going up faster than anyone had expected.
Still, Louis said, "Bear with it a little longer. We'll have more houses very soon."
And so, despite the somewhat cramped living conditions, the slaves rarely complained among themselves.
The housing shortage was only an immediate problem. What truly worried Louis was sanitation.
One afternoon, Louis made time to inspect the newly built residential district.
The houses had only recently been erected, their wooden beams still carrying the fresh scent of sawdust, and the roads underfoot were newly laid dirt paths.
Seen from a distance, the neat rows of houses counted among the Red Tide Fief's greatest recent achievements.
But as Louis followed a narrow path deeper into the district, he noticed something amiss.
Here and there, piles of assorted rubbish lay on either side of the path, and a moldy smell hung in the air.
In particular, the puddle of yellowish-brown matter at a street corner, glistening oily in the sunlight, made Louis's Adam's apple bob in an uneasy swallow.
Such conditions might not cause trouble in the short term.
But as the population grew, drinking water, sewage disposal, and environmental hygiene would sooner or later become hidden dangers.
If he let things continue unchecked and disease began to spread, the Red Tide Fief would not have enough doctors to deal with it.
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