The Knight’s Dominion

Derek stood on the second floor of the manor, just in time to see the early-rising farmers already working in the fields. The golden sunrise was so dazzling that Derek squinted.

"Unfortunately… I don't get to enjoy this beautiful day," Derek thought regretfully. It had been a few days since he was transported to this world, and he had started to adapt to his new identity.

In this world ruled by nobility, although resources were as backward as in medieval times, the life of the nobility was still quite comfortable. As the son of a baron, Derek was considered a noble too.

However, as the second son, he wasn't the one to inherit everything. The manor before him had nothing to do with his family. To ensure a future for their second son, even with a slim chance of advancement, Derek's father sent him to the local Count Perez's estate as a knight's squire.

As the effective ruler of the region, Count Perez could support a fully armed knight squad. Independent nobles nearby and vassals of Count Perez often sent their second sons here as knight's squires. Firstly, to foster relations, and secondly, to seek a future.

After completing a series of knight training, whether joining Count Perez's knight squad or using the experience to pursue other endeavors, were all excellent choices. Even returning home to assist their brothers, a knight trained by the count's house wouldn't be a disappointment.

Derek's predecessor's first choice was naturally to join Count Perez's knight squad, seeking opportunities to build achievements and become a landed noble. For the current Derek, this also seemed like a perfect choice—if it weren't for his cheat ability.

Derek retracted his gaze; the mission here had just begun. The final lesson of knight training was to independently train a group of militiamen. As a knight, proficient martial skills were enough to make a living. However, one shouldn't be ignorant in other areas, or they might spend their life as a mere henchman.

"Panel!" At Derek's command, a light screen unique to him suddenly appeared before his eyes.

Derek

Profession: Knight Level 5 (11/100)

Experience Pool: 0/100

That was it—so rudimentary it was shocking. If there were only this bit of data, Derek might have to honestly go back home and farm. In reality, after a few days of exploration, he had grasped the general effect of this cheat.

First, it provided real-time feedback on progress.

Training could improve a knight's experience, and daily training would yield surplus experience points that could help level up. The most direct effect of leveling up was an increase in personal abilities. Moreover… it wasn't only effective on oneself.

After a simple wash and finishing the breakfast brought by the manor servants, Derek arrived at the training ground. This estate, which belonged to Count Perez, was one of his properties. The entire estate was cultivated by serfs, with as many as four to five hundred people. Due to the wandering bandits and various dangers of this era, there was naturally a standing guard team. However, in a manor, there were only five full-time professional soldiers, and the rest were all temporarily recruited militiamen and farmers with pitchforks.

Derek's task was to complete a militia training session. The duration was one month, with only a small squad of ten people.

When Derek arrived, the crooked militia stood up. Even with the more adequate nutrition over the past few days, they couldn't quickly become strong. As for their mental will… that was even more uncertain.

Fortunately, Derek had enough patience. He stepped forward and tapped each of them with a short stick. Anyone standing crooked got a hit.

"Stand straight, form a line," Derek ordered.

Derek's training was very simple: learn to line up, distinguish left from right and front from back, learn to thrust a spear, and then train their physical fitness. Any other training was a waste; it was just a militia squad, not something that complicated or necessary.

The monotonous, tasteless training continued. Such a level could only be considered mediocre—anyone who had completed a full knight course could achieve this. What was rare was the sharpness in the training process, finding a better training rhythm, which could be considered a talent.

However…

Derek secretly opened the data panel. The simple panel on the home page remained unchanged. But flipping to the second page, under "Army," it showed "Farmer Squad → Militia Squad."

A few days of training had finally made the panel acknowledge them. It even expanded to show the animated portraits of each militiaman, including their names and basic stats. Of course, the most important thing was the experience pool.

Initially, the word "militia" was still quite blurry. As the training progressed, it gradually became clear, finally solidifying the profession. Derek thought of unfolding the information of the most diligent militiaman, and a simple panel appeared before his eyes.

Pitchfork

Profession: Militiaman Level 1 (2/100)

Experience Pool: 1/100

Normal training earns 2 experience points, and the surplus stored in the experience pool is 1 point. He tried to add the surplus experience to the level, and the panel changed instantly.

Pitchfork

Profession: Militiaman Level 1 (3/100)

Experience Pool: 0/100

He closely observed the militiaman Pitchfork's condition but could hardly notice any change. There was no special reaction as he had after adding points to himself.

"It seems that without the panel, there won't be any special reaction," Derek thought to himself. Of course… if he added a lot at once, maybe there would be a change?

However, given his cautious nature, he would only proceed gradually, without revealing any flaws. As for using the power of the experience pool to pretend to be a god?

In this medieval-like world, religion is a double-edged sword, and it could very likely backfire. After all, this panel doesn't make him invincible; he still needs to develop discreetly.

The militiamen's daily training didn't last long, only a morning session. At noon, they were provided with a meal of coarse wheat bread. Although it was not rich, it was filling.

With Derek's intervention, they could accumulate around ten to twenty experience points each day. Under the influence of supernatural power, the training progress was rapid.

Although it became harder to gain experience as training continued, within a month, this batch of militiamen reached levels 3 to 5. According to Derek's experience, their effectiveness was roughly equivalent to militiamen who had undergone about half a year of full-time training.

In fact, many village guards were not as good as this squad of militiamen. They could at least retreat and advance uniformly, meeting the standards in skills and stamina. With one or two battles and a few more months of training, they could even match veterans with 3 to 5 years of experience.

The panel's attributes also had limitations. For example, a level 5 militiaman skilled in spear thrusting could still be killed by a farmer with a pitchfork in a one-on-one fight. Moreover, becoming a militiaman didn't mean they couldn't farm when they put down their spears.

Therefore, it could only be used as a reference. In reality, Derek felt that the panel's abilities were already quite extraordinary. Excluding combat experience and willpower, it accelerated the training efficiency by four to five times.

After all, normal training would cause fatigue, and doubling the training wouldn't yield double the results. Additionally, the panel had the ability to reutilize surplus experience points. In short, Derek felt that he could take a gamble with this advantage.