Lord of Rot

"Lord."

Vic, the herbalist apprentice, held up a book and said to Leech, "I’ve identified the herb you brought me."

"What is it?"

Leech asked impatiently.

"It’s a Bloodline Herb, a type of herb that only exists in records," Vic explained. "It’s extremely difficult to cultivate, and its seeds can no longer be found. It’s said that eating this herb can allow one to break through the limits of their bloodline, making it incredibly precious."

’Precious?’

He remembered seeing a huge patch of it in Maoshan Beech Village—there had to be at least one or two hundred plants. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so extravagant as to feed them to chickens.

"The Bloodline Herb doesn’t shorten one’s lifespan; in fact, it extends it," Vic continued. "The more ancient the power within one’s bloodline, the greater the physical change after consuming the herb."

’In that case,’ Leech thought, ’the Corpse Demon Giant Lizard, which has been reduced to dregs, must have had the genes of some giant beast in its bloodline. Otherwise, it couldn’t have grown to half the size of a wyvern.’

"Is there a limit?" Leech asked.

"The bloodline itself is the limit," Vic said with a nod. "Take the chicken you’ve been feeding, for example. It should be reaching its growth limit soon. Its ancestors were likely some kind of magical beast."

Leech looked at the chicken in the cage. ’Even if it’s a magical beast, it’s probably a carnivorous type that was raised in captivity.’

"Will the eggs laid by this chicken also grow this large?" Leech asked.

This was his real concern: whether the offspring would inherit the superior genes.

"Yes," Vic replied with a firm nod.

"That’s good," Leech said.

He planned to move this batch of chickens to the chicken farm immediately. Demon Chickens sounded like they would taste delicious.

’I can market them as high-end ingredients in the future.’

Leech asked again, "Is this herb difficult to cultivate?"

"Very difficult. I haven’t found any records on how to do it," Vic said. "If you could give me some more to study, I might be able to find something out."

"No, for now, just focus on researching the Purple Clove Mushrooms."

’Since this Bloodline Herb is so rare and can’t be cultivated, using it for research would just be a waste.’

Instead, Leech needed to consider how to make the most of the Bloodline Herb.

’I can try giving some to Rocket first. If it can further awaken its bloodline’s power, it might not be impossible for it to evolve from a Horse-headed Eagle into a Griffin.’

’As for who else to give it to... it would be best to find someone with remnants of a mysterious bloodline. Otherwise, what’s the use of activating the full bloodline power of a carpenter’s son?’

There was a saying on the Lu Leiyi Continent: "A man’s nobility comes from his bloodline."

When the ten chickens and ducks were sent to Livestock Village, Leech personally went along to oversee their introduction, hoping they would integrate well with the other birds and avoid any conflicts.

But the result was rather unexpected. After the ten new birds arrived, the entire chicken coop and duck pen fell silent. All the birds were on their best behavior; even the few chickens that were usually the craziest became meek and docile.

「The Stables.」

Leech held a slightly wilted Bloodline Herb to Rocket’s beak. Having absolute trust in him, Rocket didn’t hesitate at all, opening its beak and eating the herb directly.

"How do you feel?" Leech asked, staring curiously at Rocket.

"COO COO COO."

"You don’t feel your whole body heating up? Or a surge of power flowing into you, like you’re about to explode?"

"COO COO COO."

Rocket indicated that everything was normal, and that the herb even tasted a little bad.

"Looks like it has no effect on a true magical beast," Leech said, a little disappointed, but it was within his expectations.

Over the past month or so, Rocket had grown to about the size of a normal horse, just a little shorter than a warhorse.

Leech resisted the urge to ride it, hoping Rocket would develop a bit more.

...

「Deep in the dense forest, at the newly established sericulture site.」

The man in charge of watching the silkworms was named Pigskin Boots. This was because his family owned a pair of precious and exquisite pigskin boots, worth 20 Silver Moons!

The story went that a nobleman had lost a bet to Pigskin Boots’ father, forfeiting the boots. This precious footwear then became the son’s name.

He had spent a great deal of effort and money to get the job of watching the silkworms. Anyone with eyes could see that sericulture was bound to become a major industry in Porcupine Territory, just like brewing, honey, and soap.

Becoming a person-in-charge early on meant more opportunities.

After a series of selections, Pigskin Boots finally succeeded. He now managed a dozen or so people, and their main job was to raise the newly hatched ant-silkworms.

Pigskin Boots looked at the thumb-sized black worms on the ground ahead, and his heart pounded in his chest.

’They’re so creepy and disgusting.’

’No, they’re escaping. I have to get them back.’

Gritting his teeth, Pigskin Boots picked up a broom and swept the escaping ant-silkworms back.

Thankfully, the ant-silkworms only looked scary.

Besides crawling all over the place, they didn’t harm people and weren’t very fast.

Often, Pigskin Boots would doze off, and by the time he woke up, the ant-silkworms would have only escaped a short distance.

It was no wonder he was tired enough to fall asleep. To feed the ant-silkworms, Pigskin Boots had to lead his men to gather leaves. But the appetites of these 300 little guys were astonishing. Often, the leaves Pigskin Boots and his dozen-plus men gathered would be devoured in less than half a day.

With few people left to stand guard, most of them had to constantly gather leaves, picking and picking without end!

"When will you ever be full?"

Pigskin Boots yawned and had to get up again to go gathering.

Fortunately, if there was one thing the dense forest didn’t lack, it was trees.

In April, when the leaves were growing, they could chop down a batch of tender branches with just a bit of effort.

The tiring part wasn’t chopping the branches, but plucking the leaves off them. It was tedious and monotonous.

"Pigskin Boots, they’re out of leaves again!"

"Coming, right away!" Pigskin Boots quickly organized his men to bring in more leaves.

The job was good, just exhausting.

At night, Pigskin Boots went home to sleep. As the junior manager here, he had his privileges; a portion of the men had to stay and watch over the site through the night.

The ant-silkworms were precious and expensive, each one a priceless treasure. If even one died from neglect, Pigskin Boots and his men would be in deep trouble.

In truth, Pigskin Boots didn’t want to go home to sleep. It wasn’t because he loved his job, but because his wife had "caught" him today.

As an old married couple, there was no need for shy, subtle hints. Pigskin Boots’ wife had practically just given him a look, and then they had both pulled down their pants and laid down.

Correction: one person was lying down, and the other was sitting up.

Listening to the CREAK, CREAK sound by his ear, for some reason, Pigskin Boots found himself dearly missing his baby silkworms.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

"What is it?" Pigskin Boots’s spirits lifted instantly.

The person outside shouted, "This is bad! They haven’t touched any of the leaves we picked today."

"What!"

Pigskin Boots immediately pushed his wife off, pulled up his pants, and ran outside.

His wife wanted to get up and remind her husband to put on his clothes, but then she suddenly remembered she wasn’t wearing any either, and it would be very inappropriate to run out like that.

But his wife couldn’t shake the feeling that Pigskin Boots had seemed... quite happy as he left?

Part of his expression was genuine happiness, but the other part was despair.

"They’re not eating at all?" Pigskin Boots asked.

"See for yourself. They haven’t touched the fresh leaves from today."

"What do we do?"

"Should we report this to the Steward?"

The men all chimed in, but no one could come up with a concrete solution.

Everyone knew how much the Lord valued this batch of silkworms. Although they had all imagined what might happen if something went wrong, their minds went completely blank now that a problem had actually occurred.

"The Lord is definitely resting at this hour," Pigskin Boots said. "I’ll go to the castle tomorrow morning and inform him."

’If they’re not eating, there’s nothing we can do to save them. We’ll just have to grit our teeth and get through the night.’

No one at the sericulture site had any experience.

"You should go back and rest," a young man said. "I’m young. I’ll stay and keep watch."

"No!" Pigskin Boots shouted excitedly. "I’m staying here tonight! I’ll fall out with anyone who tries to take my place!"

The others hadn’t expected Pigskin Boots to be so self-reproachful. They didn’t know what to say, so they just left him to keep watch alone.

’To have a manager who cares for everyone and is willing to take responsibility... we’re truly blessed.’

The men’s respect for Pigskin Boots grew even stronger.

The April night wind blew.

It was chilly. Bare-chested, Pigskin Boots uncomfortably rubbed his arms, trying to generate some heat. But the cold wind from the forest seemed to pierce right through to his bones. He could only hug himself and endure it.

It was a long night to get through.

The next morning, Pigskin Boots woke up in a daze. He suddenly discovered that the leaves had all been eaten.

Moreover, the finger-sized ant-silkworms had grown a whole size larger, each now as big as two fingers.

"So they’re fine after all!" He let out a huge sigh of relief and quickly tossed in some of the leaves he had prepared the night before. "Go on and eat, my little ancestors! Eat as much as you want!"

’Better to be worked to death than scared to death.’

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