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From Weak Lord to King of The World

Transported to the medieval era, I became a noble named "Field." My cheap father is like a candle in the wind, not long for this world, and my beautiful stepmother is a beast among beasts. At the start, the protagonist is sent to a corrupted land filled with poverty and monsters. Fine, you want to play this way? I won't be the good guy anymore! I'll develop and plunder simultaneously!

VawterMOSE · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
41 Chs

Chapter 16: The First Outpost at the Grand Winery

"My lord, why the troubled look?" Asheena approached, holding her bow, a smile playing at the corners of her eyes. "The hardest part was getting here, so why the worry now?"

Waving his hand, Field didn't want to spread anxiety and dampen the morale of his already nervous followers. With a teasing expression, he reached out and pinched Asheena's wolf ears. "I'm not troubled, just debating whether I should personally reward my hardworking hero with a massage."

"Hey, hey, hey?" Asheena's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, her red eyes trembling as she stammered, trying to respond. Realizing Field was teasing her, she pouted angrily. "Lord, that's too much! I was worried about you, and you make fun of me!"

Field rubbed his sore neck. "Thanks for your concern. But it's time to find a place to settle. I can't stand another night in that creaky wagon; the noise drives me mad."

They needed to take over a building to have shelter from the elements, even if the houses here were in a decrepit state. After studying the map carefully, Field decided, "We'll occupy the Grand Winery, Asheena. Its main structure is brick and stone, less likely to crumble."

The Grand Winery was southeast of the main building, surrounded by fertile farmland once used for growing Black Pearl grapes for wine. Now, the fields were a mess of writhing black tendrils and zombies.

Vineyards and trellises were still vaguely visible, relics of the land that once produced the empire's most famous Black Pearl wine.

"The women will clean the fields. Don't leave any filth behind. These writhing tendrils and flesh lumps look terrifying but are harmless," Field said, kicking a corrupted lump with multiple eyes. "These disgusting things were cute little animals before the grey mist came."

"Yes, my lord," the slaves muttered, moving sluggishly.

"You have two days to finish. I'll pay you ten copper coins for the work. These lands will be our food source in the future." Field knew money was a powerful motivator.

The slaves' eyes lit up, and they began working fervently, using farming tools to kill the corrupted organisms, their efficiency skyrocketing.

Butler Perry watched them and rolled his eyes. "Only the lord is kind and generous. If these peasants don't work, just hang them."

Just then, some freedmen approached.

"My lord, isn't this a bit too optimistic? The land is poisoned. Even if we clear out the monsters, it can't be farmed," a villager said, stomping the ground, which sank into a purple, toxic puddle. "This stench is worse than a widow's unwashed crotch for three years."

The slaves began to doubt too, murmuring among themselves.

"My kindness seems to have made some people overstep their bounds." Field's voice was emotionless. "This is an order, not a discussion."

The villager, still loyal to Bull Baron, didn't understand. "But, my lord, this is pointless."

"Hmm?" Field's eyebrows raised, his gaze turning cold.

Sam and the guards drew their swords, the sound of blades echoing. Despite Connor and his men doing most of the fighting, the slave guards had gained a hint of military sharpness.

Blinded by the sword's reflection, the villagers realized their mistake, sweating profusely as they fell to their knees.

After half a minute of silence, Field waved his hand. "You will also help clean. The eastern land is your responsibility. And the fool who called me whimsical, take five lashes." It was a small punishment to remind them who was in charge.

The villagers, sweating bullets, gratefully obeyed. "Yes, yes, my lord."

They began clearing the corruption, the corrupted organisms screeching.

"Truly Lovecraftian," Field muttered, taking deep breaths to stave off nausea. "We must reignite the flame of civilization quickly, starting with the winery."

Two farmers with torches opened the winery doors, releasing a foul stench that made Field gag, turning his face away.

"Careful, there are many footsteps upstairs," Asheena noted, unaffected by the smell, having lived in worse conditions as a slave.

"This place is vital, and it might contain flammable items, so no fire."

Asheena nodded. "Leave it to me."

Field raised his shield and drew his sword. "Raise your pikes! Get ready for an assault."

The guards formed a small phalanx. Field took a deep breath and banged his sword on the shield. "Hello, neighbors! Community outreach!"

The darkness erupted with ghastly wails. Footsteps like drums echoed as deformed monsters charged from the shadows, clashing with flesh and steel.

Asheena and her wolf took the brunt, her spear cutting down zombies, the wolf tearing through them like a tank, its defense unbroken.

"Ah! Goddess above!" a guard cried, stumbling after spearing a zombie, only to be overrun by more.

Field stepped forward, his sword cleaving a zombie's head. This wasn't some anime where the undead got stronger. The zombie's head fell easily, the blade cutting through like butter.

"Th-thank you, my lord!" The guard, pants wet, gazed at Field with newfound reverence.