Lord of Rot

A tall man and a short man hurried toward the inner bailey. The closer they got, the more nervous they became as they saw the patrolling Soldiers.

"Who goes there?"

A patrolling Soldier stopped the two of them.

"I—" the short young man stammered, "the Lord sent for us!"

"You two wait here. I’ll go ask for permission."

The Soldier moved quickly. He had only recently been selected as one of Iron Wall Castle’s Soldiers. He didn’t get to wear the fine armor of the Porcupine Soldiers; he didn’t even have leather armor. The only thing identifying him as a Soldier was the short sword at his hip.

But he was still very proud.

After all, he was in charge of a dozen or so men. Being called "Captain" all day long was an incredibly satisfying feeling.

After the Soldier left, the tall and short man started whispering to each other. The short man asked curiously, "Why do you think the Lord wants to see us?"

"Probably because of your skill at mending shoes," the tall man said. "The Lord’s deerskin boots might need some repairs."

"But I don’t have any gold thread," the short man said, his face falling. "I hear the Lord’s clothes are all stitched with gold thread."

’Could it be because I’ve been slacking off at work lately?’

The short man thought he’d hidden it pretty well. But if it wasn’t because of his slacking, there was no reason for the tall man to be summoned with him. Nothing good ever came from being with that guy.

Soon, the Soldier who had gone to report ran back over.

"Follow me. The Lord is waiting for you inside."

"Yes, sir!"

Seeing their respectful attitude, the Soldier nodded and said, "Remember, don’t look around or touch anything. Just answer whatever the Lord asks you. I’ve seen plenty of people like you summoned recently. Most of the time, it’s for something good."

"Like us?" the two men asked hurriedly. "Sir, what were they summoned for?"

Being called "sir" sent a pleasant shiver through the Soldier.

Even though he managed a number of people, he still had to grovel before the fully-armored Porcupine Soldiers. Every single one of them was his superior.

And then there were the young male and female servants in the castle, each more arrogant than the last.

"They do all sorts of things. The ones who can swim, the Lord has them catch fish in the river. The ones who were miners, they’re sent to quarry stone and dig ore. There are also those with good eyesight... Oh, and especially those who can read! The Lord values literacy very highly. I heard they’ll all have a chance to become Managers in the future."

Publicly, the most impressive figure in all of Iron Wall Castle wasn’t a noble Knight, nor a heavily armored soldier, nor even a well-paid craftsman. It was Manager Pang Hay!

It was said that he secretly amassed a fortune, earning one or two Silver Moons every day. His home was so overflowing with grain that even the rats would eat themselves to death.

Not only that, but the Lord also held him in high regard, entrusting a portion of the castle’s affairs to Manager Pang’s hands.

Becoming a manager was the most desirable and powerful position, with a boundless future.

The Soldier looked at the two men, his gaze fervent as he asked, "Can you read?"

"I can," the short man nodded.

The Soldier’s eyes grew even brighter.

But the short man continued, "I can only write my own name."

"..."

The Soldier’s attitude instantly turned cold, as if his previous friendly gestures had nothing to do with him.

"The Lord’s chambers are just ahead. Remember, when you see the Lord, you must say, ’Greetings, esteemed Lord, from your loyal servant.’"

The Soldier was just showing off. He had picked up the phrase from a young male servant and heard that the butler, Lidun’s, etiquette lessons included this sort of instruction. However, this way of speaking wasn’t common in the Eastern Gorge. Most people preferred a more colloquial approach, simply saying "My Lord," or "Lord."

The tall and short men nodded hastily.

The three of them arrived at an open area deep within the castle. It was a vast space, and they could hear the CLUCK CLUCK CLUCK of chickens.

"Lord, I’ve brought the men," the Soldier said.

A nearby maidservant said, "You may go."

The Soldier didn’t dare to underestimate this homely maidservant with burn scars on her face. She was by the Lord’s side every day. It was said she was responsible for recording all the important matters the Lord discussed and for contacting the various managers and noble lords. In short, she held great authority.

"Yes."

The Soldier withdrew reluctantly. He desperately wanted a chance to show his worth before the Lord. Maybe he could become a manager too. He felt that aside from being illiterate, he was no worse than the others.

But opportunity never seemed to smile upon him, making him want to complain about the unfairness of fate.

The Lord was wearing a long robe, his back to the two men.

A flock of chickens and ducks, looking to be about a month old, swirled around the Lord’s feet. The tall and short men didn’t dare make a sound, simply standing there obediently.

Leech scattered the last pinch of wheat.

Who would have thought that in just two or three days, these chicks and ducklings he had fed the special herbs to would have inflated like balloons, rapidly growing to the size of one-month-olds?

It was as if their physical development was on fast-forward, growing wildly at ten times the normal speed. If Leech hadn’t been watching them constantly, he might have thought someone had stolen his hatchlings and replaced them with older birds.

The herbs had a massive effect on physical growth; that was now beyond doubt.

The most crucial thing to determine now was whether this growth was a breakthrough of their natural limits or rapid growth that came at the cost of their lifespan.

If it was the former, the unlimited breakthroughs could lead to even better results. It might even be possible to turn non-Magical Creatures into Magical Creatures.

If it was the latter, then it was only suitable for raising chickens and ducks, essentially a type of Magic feed.

Meat production would definitely increase, drastically reducing the time cost of animal husbandry. But there was a problem: the yield of this herb wasn’t very high. Not much of it grew in Maoshan Beech Village, so using it to raise chickens and ducks was a terrible waste.

He had just turned around when the two men in linen clothes, one tall and one short, suddenly bowed low. "Greetings, esteemed Lord, from your loyal servant."

"Hm?"

Leech was taken aback. He had never heard anyone speak like that before.

"Mm," he nodded, deciding to ignore the odd behavior for now. He would see how they communicated. If they really had something wrong with their heads, he would just have to find someone else.

Talented people were already scarce in a poor region. He had already assigned jobs to the truly useful ones. These two before him were the best of a bad bunch; he had summoned them because they had at least one minor, usable skill.

He had to admit, they hadn’t made a good first impression on Leech. They seemed a bit dense.

"Which of you makes cloth shoes?"

The short man said, "That would be me, Lord."

’Good. Normal conversation seems fine. The problem with his head probably isn’t too serious.’

"Do you know tailoring?" Leech asked.

"I do!" the man nodded eagerly.

Leech nodded. "Can you write?"

"I can."

Short and to the point.

’He’s actually multi-talented. What a pleasant surprise.’

Just as Leech was about to speak, the short man quickly added, "I can write my own name."

’This guy must be related to the Red Chicken Knight’s family. He just loves to speak with dramatic pauses!’

After complaining internally, Leech continued:

"I need you to make some things. You’ll be painting with pigments and also sewing. Don’t worry, I’ll prepare the patterns and words. As long as you follow my instructions, there won’t be any problems."

The cobbler nodded. "Yes, Lord."

He didn’t know what he was going to make yet, only that he had to be obedient and follow the Lord’s orders.

"Then you must be the one who knows how to sing?" Leech said, looking at the tall man.

The tall man nodded quickly. "Yes, Lord. My father was a Minstrel, but he left when I was very young."

"Can you sing something for me now?" Leech asked.

"Is humming okay?"

"Of course!"

The tall man cleared his throat and tilted his head back slightly.

’His posture is good. He looks like he can sing.’

The short man watched his friend. They knew each other, and he was aware the tall man could sing.

’But... is being able to sing really a skill? Besides, it’s not like the tall guy’s singing is that great.’

If it wasn’t for his singing, the tall man’s other abilities were even worse.

When it came to farming and labor, the tall man was so inept he could starve himself to death.

Despite his height, he was actually very weak and had a frail constitution.

Lately, there had been plenty of work breaking stones for paving roads, and many people had earned a bit of money. He was the only one still struggling to make ends meet.

Under Leech’s expectant gaze, the tall man began to sing.

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