Field had considered buying more slaves, but alas, his purse was light.
To survive in the Death Smog, even ignoring the monsters, breathing alone required relying on Mist-Repelling Lamps – expensive magical artifacts sold exclusively by the Church.
Add to that the food, drink, and necessities for over two hundred people, and it was no small sum.
"Well? Did you secure the loan?" Field asked, hurrying over as Steward Kao emerged from the Merchant's Guild. But seeing Kao's expression, which looked worse than a rat dead for three days, he immediately knew the answer.
"My apologies, Milord. Even the greediest merchants refuse to lend to us upon hearing your name," Kao spread his hands helplessly. "After all, the Northern Frontier Province is synonymous with hell. Even the Royal Expeditionary Army was annihilated there. No merchant wants to throw money away."
"That can't be. I only received my appointment today. How are the merchants so well-informed?" Field had planned to secure a loan. If he died in the North, he wouldn't have to repay it. If he survived, repayment would be trivial.
Kao rolled his eyes, thoroughly lacking the energy to humor a noble marching to his doom.
*If only I hadn't caught the Count's sister with the stablehand,* he thought bitterly. *I could have been the promising steward of Golden Eagle City, or the Count's Hand, perhaps even tutor to the Count's grandson! Instead, I'm off to the Cursed Lands to die!*
"Because your second sister learned about your fiefdom in advance and issued a warning to the city's merchants," Kao replied wearily. "Anything you purchase will cost ten times the price. Furthermore, the merchants understood her... *implication*. They won't offer the slightest convenience."
Field wiped cold sweat from his brow. Thank goodness he hadn't given his real name when buying the slaves, or it wouldn't have been just fifty gold coins.
"Damn, thanks a lot, dear sister," Field muttered, veins bulging at his temples. *So no one treats me like a human, is that it?*
The most infuriating part was that the original owner of this body had lived this long without saving half a copper coin. One-third was donated to the family coffers, two-thirds to the border fortresses for weapons to fight the Corrupted.
The undisputed poorest noble.
"No loan? Fine. It's their enormous loss for being so short-sighted," Field shrugged, feigning indifference. "Now, let's go buy some production materials."
Field spent 180 gold coins on the supplies needed for pioneering: packhorses, farming tools, food, and books. He got seventeen packhorses, all old or weak. Horses, vital means of production in this medieval world, were tightly controlled by lords. Food was bought to the absolute maximum capacity, though the quantity would only last modern people about half a month.
But slaves didn't require such luxury. One black bread loaf per day was enough to keep them alive. Give them two loads adulterated with tree bark and sawdust, and they'd kneel and call you 'father'.
Therefore, the food would last the slaves a comfortable thirty-five days or so.
"As for magical artifacts, we'll buy them at the border cities. Those corrupt officers there sell them at a discount."
Much like feudal armies of old, they readily sold off their soldiers' gear and skimmed the payroll.
Field had initially wanted to recruit talent or mercenaries from a tavern, but they flatly refused upon hearing the destination was Duskmire Lands.
"That hellhole? Sending us there is no different from ordering us to die."
"My advice? Flee to another kingdom. Even hardy cockroaches have to live ass-clenched tight in that place."
Echoes of the mercenaries' warnings rang in his head as Field rubbed his temples. His gaze drifted to the beast-eared girl curled up in a hay-filled wagon. *What's so special about her?* he wondered.
Finding an inn, Field let everyone rest for the night.
Early the next morning, he summoned the beast-eared girl.
"What's your name? Did you rest alright yesterday?" Field looked her up and down – this slave worth fifty silver coins. Seeing her bewildered expression, he found it somewhat amusing.
"A... Athna."
Her mouth opened and closed several times before she managed to force the name out. She hadn't spoken in a month.
She had been waiting in terror for her fate, never imagining she'd have a day of normal conversation again.
After a thorough washing by the maids, the beast-eared girl was unrecognizable. Her matted, grimy fur was now smooth and lustrous. Snow-white hair, pure as driven snow, cascaded down, framing delicate features that gave her a quiet elegance – exactly Field's preferred type of youthful mature beauty. However, her constantly twitching wolf ears and tail betrayed her deep anxiety.
As soon as she gave her name, the green dot above Athna's head vanished. In its place appeared a simple status panel.
**Name:** Athna
**Level:** Unawakened
**Ascension Path:** Wolf Rider Chosen
**Status:** Malnourished, Near Breakdown
**(Nutritional Supplement Required!)**
"Holy crap!" Field couldn't contain his shock, the exclamation bursting out.
*The green dot marked an unawakened Chosen One!* Field was stunned into silence.
*If the map can mark a green dot, it definitely won't be just once!*
Every year on September 1st was the kingdom's Awakening Day. Every woman of age underwent inspection. Though the chance of awakening as a Chosen One was minuscule, given their immense value, the massive expenditure of resources was deemed worthwhile.
Field began pacing excitedly, then punched the air a couple of times. *My ability has incredible potential! Maybe I really can establish myself in Duskmire Lands.*
Seeing Field's bizarre behavior, Athna misinterpreted it as him devising some cruel way to torment her. Her legs trembled with fear, her hands clutching and releasing her skirt hem. She had no idea what awaited her.
In truth, after being bought by Field, she had considered launching a desperate attack. Even if the slave contract backlash killed her, she refused to die humiliated; she wanted to tear out her tormentor's throat.
But then the maids had led her away, undressed her, bathed her, scrubbing every crevice clean. Never in her life had she imagined bathing could involve *help*. More absurdly, they even dressed her. The soft, comfortable fabric felt weightless against her skin, free of biting fleas or scratchy edges.
*Perhaps I'm being prepared as a sacrifice to devils,* Athna thought wildly. *Wait for the crucial moment, then strike back! I must make these evil humans pay!*
"Don't be afraid. I'm not the kind of pervert who kills for fun," Field said, lowering his voice, trying to sound gentle. He leaned back casually in his chair, the lazy posture making him seem non-threatening. "I bought you all to help pioneer my territory. By the way, does that outfit fit alright?"
It was a modified maid's dress, made from common servant attire. The world's servant clothes leaned towards modesty, revealing only the lower calves and hands – almost like nun's habits. Of course, not the scandalous slit kind designed for 'entertainment'.