Chapter 80 - 76: Here Come the Serfs
Chapter 80: Chapter 76: Here Come the Serfs
Ola Stonebeard’s hand was trembling slightly.
This was a hand that could wield a battle-ax to split a man’s head in two, yet now it couldn’t even hold a light, flimsy quill steady.
The aroma of the roasted meat from the lunch on the table was like an invisible hand clutching his throat, making him feel as if he were about to suffocate.
Velin didn’t speak or rush him, just stood there quietly.
He was like an experienced hunter who knew that the more a beast struggled in a trap, the tighter the snare would become.
"My... my Knights..." Ola’s voice was dry and hoarse. "You just try laying a hand on them!"
"Baron, let’s look at this another way." Velin’s voice was steady, without a hint of fluctuation. He pointed to the dark encampment outside the window. "In any war, there is always a losing side. According to the laws of the Duchy, you are required to pay war reparations. I’ve done the math. Selling all of you into the mines for thirty years would probably cover it."
"That’s a terrible option. It benefits no one—not you, not your men, and not me." He paused, letting the cold reality ferment in the air.
"But this labor contract," Velin tapped the parchment, "is the second path I’m offering you. A more civilized path. You will repay your debt with your body. You and your men will trade your freedom for the right to live."
Freedom.
Coming from Velin’s lips, the word sounded like a vicious curse.
Ola’s gaze shifted back and forth between the contract and the dinner, finally settling on Velin’s outrageously young face.
’He thought of his men—that band of bastards. They were loud, rowdy, and spent money like water, but once on the battlefield, not a single one of them was a coward.’
’He remembered the looks on their faces when they were captured—a mixture of defiance and fear.’
’Dwarven honor...’
’To hell with honor!’
He roared internally. It was less a roar of anger and more the sorrowful cry of a cornered beast.
He snatched the quill with such force that he nearly snapped the shaft, and without even looking at the words on the contract, he viciously scrawled his name at the bottom.
In that moment, with his own hand, he stamped the honor of the Shixu Clan onto a contract to study his own waste.
"Excellent."
Velin retrieved the parchment, his movements unhurried.
He pushed the dinner forward.
"Now, begin your first task, Lord Baron. Remember, eat every last bite. Every single data point affects the future of you and your men."
With that, Velin turned and left. His footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving only Ola and the still-steaming dinner in the room.
He stared intently at the piece of roasted meat for a long time before snatching it up and shoving it into his mouth with a kind of savage, self-abusive force.
The aroma of the food exploded in his mouth, mixed with the taste of humiliation. Hot grease ran down the corners of his mouth, and it was impossible to tell if it was oil or tears.
In the temporary prison camp, thirty Rock Breaker Knights sat huddled together. After the Magic Contract took effect, the shackles on their hands and feet were removed, but they were still trapped by a two-meter-high fence of vines.
Just then, several militiamen from Newly Town pushed a wheelbarrow in. On it sat a large wooden barrel that gave off a strange smell.
"Dinner is served, my lord Knights!" a militiaman called out, his tone dripping with schadenfreude.
The Knights surged forward, but when the lid of the barrel was lifted, a smell of earthy musk and faint saltiness wafted out.
Inside the barrel was a grayish-white paste, mixed with some boiled, dark green plant leaves.
"What the fuck is this? Pig slop?" a young Knight cursed.
"Shut up! We’re lucky to have anything to eat!" an older Knight snapped at him. "Back when we were fighting bandits in the Black Forest, we even chewed on boiled leather armor."
They were starving, so they paid no mind to the taste, wolfing down everything in their bowls until they were spotless.
Half an hour later, the trouble began.
When the first Knight clutched his stomach, his face turning pale, and rushed toward the crude latrine in the corner, no one yet realized the severity of the situation.
But then came the second, and the third...
The once-quiet camp instantly devolved into chaos. The Knights, who were usually so majestic, were now clamping their thighs together, hiking up their pants, and shoving each other as they scrambled for the row of latrines.
The scene was both chaotic and comical.
The "laxative" side effect of the sea-salt potatoes was on full, vivid display.
Velin stood atop a nearby tower, watching the farce with a blank expression.
Beside him, a researcher held a pen and paper, his hands trembling, but he didn’t dare stop recording.
"Reporting, my lord! The normal human sample group... is showing widespread intestinal overstimulation. Preliminary statistics show an average... an average of three to five bowel movements."
"The data is good."
Velin nodded, his gaze passing over the chaotic camp to the room where Ola was being held in isolation.
As the core test subject, Ola’s "special meal" contained more high-energy meat and a higher concentration of the magical plant mixture.
At this very moment, the Level 4 Knight was enduring a torment ten times more brutal than that of his men.
"The metabolic rate of the Half-Dwarf sample is truly astonishing." Velin looked at the preliminary data in his hand as if admiring a work of art. "The energy conversion rate is also very high, but the stimulation is too intense. It could easily break the test subject."
He wrote a new order in his notebook: [The ratio needs to be adjusted. Find a balance point that ensures data output efficiency without causing the sample to break down prematurely.]
...
「Three days later」
Just as the experiment was getting on track, an unexpected visitor disrupted Velin’s plans.
"My lord, Jim, the steward from Shiyan Town, wishes to see you."
Shortly after, a man walked in. He carried himself with humility, but his constantly darting eyes revealed him to be a shrewd man.
"Lord Baron Velin," Jim said, handing over a document with an amiable smile, "I am here on behalf of my lord to express our deepest apologies for the reckless actions of the Rock Breaker Knight Order. To show Shiyan Town’s sincerity, and on behalf of Baron Ola, I have brought you a batch of... laborers, as partial payment of the ransom."
Velin did not take the document. His gaze went past the city walls, toward the distant horizon.
There, a long dragon formed of countless black dots was squirming slowly toward Newly Town under the scorching sun.
It was faintly discernible as a group of people in tattered clothes.
Old Walker, who was also in the reception hall, saw the scene as well, his face a mask of shock and pleasant surprise.
"My lord... are those..."
"How many?" Velin interrupted Jim’s pleasantries.
The man’s smile widened. He held up one finger, his tone light. "A little over eleven hundred serfs. It’s just... the journey was long. Their current condition might require a bit of extra care from you."
Over eleven hundred people!
Old Walker’s breathing grew heavy. Newly Town’s workforce would increase fivefold in an instant!
Velin, however, frowned slightly.
He looked at the approaching serfs. They were sallow and emaciated, their eyes numb, like a horde of walking corpses.
He glanced at Jim again. The steward’s smile wasn’t so innocent, either.
Velin had a feeling in his gut. ’This isn’t necessarily a good thing.’