Chapter 28: The Magic Scroll

"Whoosh~"

A large burst of flames erupted from the scroll, igniting the two corpses. The fire crackled as it consumed the corrupted deer bodies.

But... that was all. The used scroll lost its magical luster and turned into a mere piece of paper.

There were no spectacular effects, and certainly no world-destroying fire like the one from the dragon wolf. Field felt as if he had watched a mediocre fire-breathing performance, less exciting than a gas tank explosion.

"I think I just wasted ten gold coins," Field realized, breaking into a cold sweat. 

Although the magic scroll had low damage, the market price of a first-level magic scroll was around fifteen gold coins. An antique magic scroll was worth about ten gold coins, which was not cheap at all.

Asheena stuck out her delicate tongue, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "How can it be a waste? We learned about the power of a magic scroll, just as you said, 'Practice brings true knowledge.' Besides, this is the first time I've seen a magic scroll. It's quite interesting."

This clever girl knew how to smooth things over. "I just mentioned it casually, and you remembered," Field said, feeling her positive attitude infectious, patting Asheena on the head with a smile.

Inside the box were 24 magic scrolls. After accounting for the one Field used, they were worth about 230 gold coins in total, making the haul quite substantial.

Field found that scavenging could be quite profitable. The unique environment of the northern regions meant that few adventurers dared to venture there, leaving many valuable items undiscovered.

Upon returning to the domain, everyone was relieved to see Field safe and sound. After all, if something happened to the lord, they would be killed by the death miasma within the day. Besides, Lord Field was a very kind person. The slaves hoped he would remain their lord forever, as being able to eat half a meal was a godsend.

"Oh! It's a goblin head!" exclaimed Dogpaw, a knowledgeable freeman. "I've seen these filthy creatures in big cities. They can even mate with sows and produce a bunch of little goblins."

"Yes, these monsters attacked the domain," Field said, casually tossing the goblin head to the ground and wiping his hands with a handkerchief. "We've avenged the fallen. May they return to the goddess's embrace."

"Long live the lord!"

"Thank you, Lord!"

The slaves were moved to tears, grateful for the respect for their right to life. They no longer had to worry about being killed by monsters at night. Although Field's primary motive was to eliminate threats and keep the slaves working effectively, it didn't diminish their gratitude. Typical lords wouldn't care about the lives of their slaves, only about what dessert to have.

"Disperse and rest," Field said, feeling tired himself. 

After dealing with the goblins, Field clapped his hands and remembered another important matter. The soldiers' poor performance during the goblin attack needed addressing. The patrolling soldiers were asleep somewhere, and the others who were off-duty didn't react until Crock, the butler, woke a few of them. If not for him, the entire domain might have been slaughtered while the soldiers stayed hidden.

"If we don't strengthen the domain's military, I won't be able to sleep at night."

Relying solely on Asheena wasn't enough to cover the whole domain. Field planned carefully and recorded his ideas in a script only he could read, then collapsed onto his bed. The large manor's creaky floor and windows immediately began to squeak. Occasionally, an unpleasant draft blew through the cracks in the bricks.

"The house needs repairs soon," Field thought despairingly, covering his ears and burying his head under the blanket, the only thing that still smelled like civilized society.

The next day, after a tortured night, Field gathered all the soldiers, including the humanoid cavalry still learning to ride.

"Stand straight," Field commanded sternly.

The soldiers, knowing their poor performance the previous night, shrank in fear, some nearly wetting themselves, expecting to face execution but not daring to speak. They glanced at Field's face, hoping to discern his intentions.

Field initially planned to drag the incompetent ones out and whip them thirty times in front of everyone. But seeing many were emaciated, with ribs showing and struggling to stand in their armor, he reconsidered. 

Ten lashes would send them back to their mothers, if not kill them outright. Healing them would waste precious potions, causing further losses. Most importantly, killing them would leave even fewer suitable soldiers among the remaining slaves.

Field rubbed his forehead, reminding himself that the soldiers survived on two small loaves of black rye bread a day, with no pay, freedom, or women. In their shoes, he wouldn't be motivated either.

"The patrol soldiers from last night will run six laps around the domain, and those who didn't come out will run three laps. This is your punishment. Don't think about slacking off."

The soldiers breathed a sigh of relief, some even smiling. They didn't understand why the lord liked running, but it was far better than being whipped.

"I love running," one soldier joked, putting down his weapon and removing his armor.

"Wait, wear your leather armor and carry your weapons," Field insisted. Before they could look too despairing, he added in a devilishly tempting tone, "If you finish before noon, each of you will get a piece of smoked meat."

They needed the extra nutrition.

"Smoked meat?"

"Oh my god! Did I hear that right?"

"Our beloved lord!"

Any complaints vanished instantly. The soldiers quickly donned their leather armor, grabbed their weapons, and started running like madmen. The commotion drew the attention of slaves working in the corrupted fields nearby.

The remaining dozen or so soldiers looked at each other, their mouths watering at the thought of smoked meat. Finally, Sam gathered the courage to ask cautiously, "What about us, my lord? Can we run too?"

Field scanned the group, recognizing them as the elite soldiers, many having killed over ten undead. Raising an eyebrow, he said, "You don't need to run. You were among the few who responded last night. The smoked meat is your rightful reward. I have a new training regimen for you called standing guard. If you do well, you'll get an extra egg."

"Thud."

The sound of swallowing echoed again at the mention of an egg.