Chapter 93: To War!

Ten days later, Phield stood on the second floor of the grand winery, watching the drills in the distance.

Squads of soldiers ran in formation, jogging while shouting cadence—”One-two-three! One-two-three!” The dust they kicked up often made the slaves watering the fields stop and stare.

Whenever someone fell out of line, the guards would crack their whips through the air, the sharp snap alone enough to terrify.

Phield had incorporated the military training routines from his university days in his previous life. Ten days were nowhere near enough to forge a truly capable army—but making them look battle-ready was achievable.

During these days, no slave uprisings had occurred. The unfathomable combat strength displayed within the territory filled the slaves with fear. And for ten consecutive days, every meal had exceeded their wildest expectations—hot soup at every sitting, three loaves of bread a day.

“This army is substandard. It has no real combat power.” Ashina’s gaze was troubled as she kicked at a stone on the ground. “They can’t protect your safety. If I ordered the cavalry to charge once, they’d scatter.”

“I know,” Phield replied calmly. “But I never intended to use them as the vanguard.”

“Don’t worry, this young lady will protect Phield.” Rosalia, dressed in a black robe, leaned close to Ashina’s ear with a grin. “Our delightful private time is just beginning. I’ll train him thoroughly until he becomes my foot slave. Hahahahaha.”

Ashina bristled with anger. “You bastard! I’ll bite you!”

“Nyah nyah~” Rosalia stuck out her tongue playfully. “You can only bite Phield. But for a while, you won’t get the chance—and now it’s my turn.”

Unbelievable. She’s spouting nonsense again. Phield rubbed his brow, making sure he didn’t die of irritation.

Black Crow flapped in through the window and landed on Phield’s shoulder.

“Strange. There are far fewer corrupted corpses around the territory. I just sent Black Crow to scout—every single one was killed by bladed weapons.” Phield frowned. “Perhaps there are human survivors. Or maybe Church or Imperial soldiers.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? We’re marching out anyway.” Ashina’s wolf ears twitched twice. “There’s no strong scent nearby.”

“I’m just puzzled. But we’ve already begun reclaiming the outer walls of the great manor.”

Starnight Grand Manor possessed an outer wall; Phield himself had once entered through its main gate. Though the wall stood only two and a half meters high and was badly damaged, it could still hold back small waves of corpses.

Phield opened his minimap. The corrupted corpses around the manor had been mostly cleared by Ashina, Rosalia, and the greatsword warriors.

Once repaired and reclaimed, the wall would provide another layer of protection and buffer.

Knock, knock, knock—

A rap came at the door. Rosalia slipped into the Greatsword of Gluttony. Phield straightened his collar. “Enter.”

“My lord, the drill is complete. The army is assembled and ready to march at any time!” Kai, captain of the demi-human cavalry, stood tall and reported loudly.

“Good.” Phield wrapped the Greatsword of Gluttony in black cloth and slung it across his back. “Let me inspect the troops. Prepare to march.”

When Phield descended the stairs, he saw the three hundred soldiers drawn up in relatively neat ranks. Most wore leather armor and carried spears, with ration bags on their backs—usually wheat cakes and dark bread, supplemented by garlic.

Yes, garlic. It served not only as seasoning during marches but also dulled the sense of smell, helping people sleep.

After all, the comrade beside you might not have bathed in ten years. If your nose was too sensitive, you might not sleep at all.

These three hundred were designated by Phield as the First Army of Nightfall Domain. There was no Second Army, after all—the territorial guards would not march. Only a small portion carried round wooden shields or better armor, such as a breastplate—awarded to those who excelled in training.

The round wooden shield was a small, pot-lid-sized buckler made from scrap wood. It barely qualified as a turtle shell. Slung on the back, it looked like a sunhat. Still, better than nothing. In the rain, it could at least be held over the head.

Originally, the plan was one shield per soldier, but Nightfall Domain’s industrial capacity was effectively zero. Hand-carved wooden shields were a luxury.

The military structures of the various kingdoms had yet to shed the clan-based levy system. Following the decimal principle, Phield adopted the same model—one Decanus per ten men, one Centurion per hundred.

The First Army stood assembled, and at a glance, it truly looked the part.

Phield mounted his warhorse and rode back and forth twice. The slave-soldiers cast him looks of curiosity, numbness, fear, or timidity.

“Listen. I am your lord—Phield. Do you want to live? Do you want food, wealth, or freedom?”

The slave-soldiers exchanged glances. Someone shouted, “Yes!”

“Yes!”

Soon, everyone was shouting.

Talking about glory or ideals to those at the bottom was pointless. Money and women were far more tangible.

“Then there is only one thing you must do—obey my command!”

“Obedience means food to eat, coins to earn, and the possibility of freedom!”

“Now, follow my will. Follow the banner of Nightfall Domain!”

Phield leveled his lance and raised the fine steel longsword at his side. “March!”

Sam carried the newly sewn Black Wolf banner and walked behind Phield. This time, among the territory’s most elite guards, Phield brought only Sam and two others—mainly to bear the banner and handle sentry or support duties.

As soon as the First Army entered the gray mist, Ashina mounted Drakewolf. A Black Crow settled upon her shoulder.

“Hehe, don’t make that sad face, Ashina. I can see everything,” Black Crow said. Through this corrupted Black Crow, Phield could communicate without obstruction.

“Fine. Then you’ll keep me company.” Ashina patted Black Crow on the head and let out a soft laugh.

“Hey, when did you learn that trick?” Black Crow protested.

Ashina smirked. “You use it all the time.”

“Let’s go. We’ll circle ahead of my lord and clear the path for the army,” Ashina commanded loudly.

“As you command.”

Kai carefully rolled up the Black Crow banner and stored it close to his body. It would soon be put to use.

The second unit, named by Phield the “Raiding Army,” would act as a covert supporting force.

It consisted of fifteen elite demi-human cavalry clad entirely in black robes, along with fifty Black Crow Greatsword Warriors. The Corrupted Greatsword Warriors had been renamed—henceforth, they would be known as Black Crow Greatsword Warriors.

As for the guards, they would remain behind to defend the territory.

“Waaah…” Kaor sobbed, snot and tears streaming. “Lord Phield—oh heavens, I’m so heartbroken.”

“Why are you crying?” Nina shot the butler a glance. “Managing the castle properly is helping my lord.”

“That’s right. My lord is a noble—he must pursue the glory of battle.” Meg sniffled. “He’s only just returned a few days ago, and now he’s marching off again.”

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