Alexander casually tossed aside the battle report. He, the illustrious Lord of Calyus Village! Adorned with the final glory of Castile! The true lion of the Lionheart family! The sole appointed commander of the Redeemer Knight Order! He had returned to his loyal territory.
At this moment, Calyus Village had been mostly rebuilt. The villagers' residences were still undergoing repairs because a new batch of villagers had returned a few days ago, and they were still working on constructing new houses.
What shocked Alexander the most was the luxurious dungeons built by the slaves: rows of houses made of stone and round logs, neatly arranged. To ensure safe drinking water, the slaves dug a well, and they even built a kitchen to ensure a clean source of food. Some meticulous individuals even planted flowers at the entrance of the dungeons.
The entire construction highlighted one thing—professionalism!
Why did these fellows build their dungeons so reasonably?
It was because among those captured by Alexander, many were regulars in prison. No one knew better than them what a good prison needed.
If there was anyone who could rival their knowledge of prisons, it would be the old underworld elites—such as the bunch of thugs Alexander brought back.
"Why can't you idiots build a lounge instead?"
"Yes, we need a place to play cards."
"We also need a clean place for convenience. I'm tired of using wooden buckets."
...
These new and old slaves were vigorously discussing how their dungeons should be built. Although they were called dungeons, in reality, calling them collective dormitories would be more appropriate.
Because Alexander reiterated the rules here on his way back, such as building their own residences and the possibility of regaining freedom for those who behaved well.
These hundred or so slaves were not fools; they knew they couldn't escape, so they only had one path left—complying with the rules.
Having stabilized these thugs, Alexander was about to arrange for the villagers to start production. What he lacked the most right now was money, to the extent that he couldn't even afford to pay wages.
Fortunately, his prestige could temporarily keep his warriors under control.
[Congratulations to Lord Alexander for completing the task—Rebuilding Calyus Village]
[Calyus Village's current prosperity level: 0]
[Reward: Aqueduct +1]
Alexander obtained an aqueduct that he could build. When he opened the building module that appeared in the system, he found:
[Aqueduct]: Increases the yield of crops within a certain range by +1.
It was quite a good building, capable of boosting crop yields. However, there was a problem at the moment—it was still winter, and agriculture was definitely not feasible.
The Calyus people didn't rely solely on this barren land; situated on the Cavall Peninsula with its cold climate and numerous mountains, they naturally developed a secondary industry—fur.
Apart from flax, fur was also a crucial pillar of Calyus Village's economy. The southern Barlow Mountain Range, surrounded by lush trees and expansive forests, nurtured countless lives, making it a natural hunting ground.
During the winter, Calyus people often crossed the border into the Barlow Mountains to hunt, obtaining animal fur that they sold for considerable prices.
Alexander decided to honor the Calyus tradition. However, among his men, there were no skilled hunters, and even the Saint Martin soldiers were terrible with bows and arrows—including Alexander himself.
So Alexander left his men behind to supervise and formed a hunting team consisting of twenty villagers and a few selected Imperial archers from the elite underworld.
They headed towards the Barlow Mountains' border. It was eerily quiet on the frontier, with no patrols; after all, there was no war in this area.
Interestingly, despite being sandwiched between the Vidar Kingdom, Saint Martin Kingdom, Western Empire, Northern Empire, and Southern Empire, the Barlow Mountains were not a war zone due to various reasons.
This was partly due to the Barlow people's character—they were fond of building giant statues and cities but not conquest. The various tribes of Barlow were the original inhabitants of the continent, ruling over the misty mountainous regions of the northwest. The mountain fortresses on their peaks had witnessed countless wars against foreign invaders, from the initial empire to the raiders from the north in the prosperous era of Saint Martin.
Ultimately, they guarded their final territory—the Barlow Mountains and the sacred Lake Kelt in the heart of their kingdom.
This was thanks to their excellent longbow skills, tactical night raids, and lightning strikes from the forests. Their familiarity with the mountains allowed them to outmaneuver enemies in guerrilla warfare.
As Alexander listened to the hunters' stories about the Barlow Mountains along the way, he learned about a people who revered nature, showed bravery, and yet possessed a cunning nature.
In the midst of their conversation, a seasoned hunter suddenly made a quiet gesture. Everyone immediately quieted down and crouched low because they all noticed a sleek, fur-shining fox chasing a snow hare ahead.
Everyone widened their eyes, held their breath, and many had already raised their hunting bows, aiming at the swiftly moving fox.
"Swoosh!"
Just as the experienced hunters were looking for an opportunity, an arrow flew over their heads and shot directly towards the fox, which was focused on its prey. However, to no one's surprise, the arrow missed its mark.
Startled, the fox tumbled on the ground several times, then quickly scampered away, using its small paws to run into the distance and disappear from everyone's sight.
Over twenty people all turned to look at Alexander, who was riding a horse and maintaining a shooting posture, his face filled with embarrassment.
Everyone had the same expression: "Boss, maybe you should take a break."
"Cough, just testing my skills... just testing my skills..." Alexander defended himself in a low voice, thick-skinned.
As for why he came hunting fully armed and on horseback, it was because he didn't trust those Imperial archers. He feared they might betray him, so he positioned himself at the back of the group on horseback.
However, riding a horse in the forest was indeed quite troublesome.
"My lord, let me hold your horse for you. Riding a horse might easily startle the game," said an old hunter, approaching and taking the reins of Alexander's Saint Martin warhorse.
Perhaps realizing he had caused a bit of trouble just now, Alexander reluctantly dismounted from the horse.
The old hunter patiently explained shooting techniques to Alexander.
Just then, the hunter at the front of the group exclaimed, "Look, it's the tracks of a deer herd. They just passed through here."
Everyone looked at the scattered and disorderly footprints with excitement, as if they were watching a herd of moving dinars. After all, any qualified hunter knew how valuable deer hides were.
They were about to strike it rich!