People must always face reality

"Yes, but most of the credit goes to Ashina and the brave warriors who risked their lives to protect us." Field would not mention the Mini-Map. That was his own secret.

Ashina had noticeable bags under her eyes, and a rare languor showed in her beautiful gaze. Even a Chosen One grew tired after staying up all night killing Corpse Ghouls day after day. Still, her wolf ears gave a proud little twitch, showing that she was in a very good mood.

Rather than offer any grand words, Ashina simply nodded to everyone. Lately, she had taken a liking to Field's calm demeanor and rarely showed her lively side in front of others.

Only in private did she like to tease Field playfully.

"We would gladly give our lives for you, my lord!" At Field's praise, Iron Hammer and the others immediately straightened their backs. For some reason, their lord particularly liked people to stand straight, and since he liked it, they were happy to oblige. Iron Hammer struck his breastplate with his right hand, which was covered in dried blood. "All thanks to the Goddess of Deep Winter for watching over our beloved lord."

Well, one trip away, and they've become even bigger suck-ups. A whole pack of lackeys.

Kao rolled his eyes in disdain, though a smile also appeared on his face. Every guard who returned made the territory a little safer, so he would no longer be too frightened to sleep-or even to go outside to relieve himself.

"My lord, forgive me for speaking frankly, but please don't take such risks again. I prayed every night and worried so much I couldn't sleep," Kao exclaimed.

"Now that I'm back, I won't be leaving the territory again for a while." Mapleleaf City was lovely, but compared with his own shabby territory, it simply did not feel like home. Besides, the journey had been grueling, and Field was exhausted too. He waved a hand. "First, arrange lodgings for my adviser and the Freemen, then set aside a plot for the slaves to live on. Put them beside the old slave camp."

For the moment, Field had no energy to do anything more. Several days of frantic fighting and intense monitoring of the map had left him utterly drained.

"The Cavalry Unit gets three days off. You too, Iron Hammer-all of you. Take three days and get some proper rest. Kao, organize the Freemen to serve food to the slaves. Give each person two loaves of bread and a serving of mixed vegetable soup. I don't want them surviving the Corpse Tide only to die of hunger."

Most of the thirty-odd slaves who had died were elderly people who could not move fast enough. Field still felt a pang of regret. They had all been potential workers. What a waste.

Only after returning to the Grand Winery did Field feel that the air was fresh again. There was still a faint musty smell, but it was far fresher and more pleasant than outside. The stone walls had regained their original color instead of being coated in blackish-purple remnants of corruption. The rooms were a little damp, making it clear that Sparrow, the maid, had not been slacking off. She had scrubbed the Grand Winery clean.

There was no excrement indoors anymore, either. Field had seen quite a bit before. Some servant, too lazy to go outside, had kept relieving themselves indoors. Fortunately, as Field's authority grew, that person no longer dared do it. Of course, they might simply have cleaned it up themselves.

"Heh, just don't let me catch you." Field wondered which bastard it was. If a maid was responsible, she deserved a good spanking.

After dinner and a comfortable bath, Field reclined lazily in a cushioned armchair, every cell in his body relaxing. The newly purchased furniture made his room look respectable. At least the table, chairs, and bed had all been replaced with fine furnishings befitting a noble, and he no longer had to worry about his chair creaking incessantly.

Field took out the spellbook "Flame Robe." Although he had no magic himself, that did nothing to dampen his curiosity about it.

Knock, knock, knock. Someone knocked on the door.

Far from being annoyed at the interruption, Field returned the spellbook to the shelf and cleared his throat.

"Come in."

"Sorry to disturb you, Lord Field." His visitor was Tate, known as the "Warden."

Nicknames were common in this era. Field had fantasized about earning a title like "Rod of Steel" or "Demonic Muscleman" himself, because they sounded impressive.

"My lord, I came to learn your intentions so I can administer Nightfall Territory more effectively." Instead of resting, Tate had walked all over Nightfall Territory. He smelled strongly of sweat and looked anxious and concerned. "For example, should our focus this year be on taxes, population, or food?"

Those were all major concerns for nobles.

"You've settled into your work even faster than I expected." Field nodded in satisfaction.

Earlier, seeing his face as dark as a chimpanzee's, Field had thought he was about to go on strike.

Tate spoke honestly. "People must always face reality. My family's fate is already tied to Nightfall Territory, so of course I have to give it my all. I don't want my children dying in the jaws of Corpse Ghouls."

"Good. But our next priority will be neither taxes nor food, nor population." Field took a sip of black tea.

Nightfall Territory's wretched conditions did not allow it to produce anything yet.

Even setting a firm target of a hundred million gold coins a day would accomplish nothing. It would be empty sloganeering, and Field had no interest in hollow gestures.

"First, we must gradually reclaim the corrupted farmland and houses, organizing workers to remove all traces of corruption. As the lord, I possess a domain talent. Once the corruption is thoroughly cleared away, I can keep the death miasma from seeping in."

Field paused before continuing. "Second, we must educate the slaves and turn them all into obedient workers with specialized skills. Ideally, they'll all become Freemen. I imagine educating people is your area of expertise. But I should warn you: some slaves may look pitiful, yet a portion of them have committed plenty of crimes behind the scenes. Sort that out as soon as possible so we can move forward with our work."

It was people who were noble, not their occupations. Likewise, it was people who were base, not their circumstances.

Even slaves oppressed one another. How ironic.

This time, Tate was astonished.

"To think you could offer such precise guidance on administration, with such clarity and foresight. It's truly remarkable."

Well, look at that. He looks so upright, but he's quite the flatterer.

Field was amused. "Isn't this a very basic ability?"

"No. At least, I've never heard of anything like it. Lords generally concern themselves with this year's taxes and food, or with armies, families, and noble young ladies. You're the first I've known to concern himself with matters affecting those at the bottom."

"Oh?" Field tapped his fingers lightly on the tabletop, producing a pleasant sound. He liked tapping on a table while he thought.

With the wisdom of someone from Huaguo and an advanced modern education, even things Field considered perfectly ordinary seemed unbelievable to the people of this era.