This world is full of blood and meanness everywhere, and people who are too nice can easily die a violent death, especially as a nobleman, Feld no longer has the patience and kindness to communicate with the assholes of this world.
It's better to let iron and blood do the talking! Meanness, that's what passes for nobility.
As it turned out, it was far easier for humans to attack their own kind than to deal with carrion, and at least their own kind wasn't scary looking.
One of the human slaves howled and leapt up, holding down the soldier with the broken arm, chiseling the scythe in his hand hard into his neck and yanking it so hard that it tore his head right off, the soldier's look of horror still frozen on his face.
"Well done, it's yours." The corners of Feld's mouth arched as he fished out a silver coin from his pocket and tossed it to him, "I allow slaves to own their own property and earn more for more work!"
The eyes of the slaves around them reddened, a silver coin was not a small amount, it could buy a hundred pieces of black bread and extend their lives for a hundred days! In an instant, they were bloodthirsty by the money.
And because there was Ashena's giant wolf leading the charge, the slaves were fearless, gripping their weapons tightly and charging up together.
"What an easy slaughter."
In front of the Chosen, the small number of fully-armored infantry was nothing but a joke, the heavily-armored soldiers were flattened by the wolf's claws, and blood flowed out from the corpses that had been flattened into "secondary" bodies, gurgling and gathering into a river.
Ignoring the river of pleas for mercy, after quickly disposing of the mutinous defenders, Feld stood on his tiptoes to avoid staining the broken limbs on the ground, and carefully entered the dark fortress.
"This is... Weapons Depot!"
Feld could no longer hide his surprise when he saw the fortress's armory.
What met his eyes was armor stacked like a small mountain, emitting the scent of tung oil after maintenance, neatly bundled, while the shelves next to it held standard halberds, steel swords, and clad iron shields, and the bows and crossbows hung on the wall, with barrels of feathered arrows encompassing various functions.
It was easy to arm five hundred people to the teeth, and the armor rate could reach one hundred percent.
It was impossible for a baron to afford such a large amount of armaments, it was all shipped from various parts of the empire, every year, the major lords would need to set aside a portion of their supplies and gold coins to support the construction of the borders and prevent the invasion of corrupted monsters and orcs.
"The Click Mountain Fortress has so many supplies just as an outpost fortress, the few giant fortresses behind it, how rich are they I dare not even think about."
"We, aren't we rich?" Ashina took down a riding bow, lovingly.
"Made a small fortune, that's where." Feld was actually so cool that he waved his hand, "What are you waiting for, arm yourselves first."
"Good!" Hearing that they can be equipped with expensive defense, the crowd immediately went up to untie the rope, a set of za armor to the body set, these slaves for the first time to feel the power of the armor, heavy, but the sense of security pull full.
The only beauty is that the slaves are too skinny and wobbly after wearing the armor.
"Hey, hey, I told you to disgust me, Richard." Feld rubbed his hands together and called to the first slave to do it, "What's your name?"
"My lord, my name is Bobcat." Bobcat looked nervous.
In a time when knowledge was monopolized, the names of the underclass were generally quite casual. Of course, one couldn't even think of not being casual, if you bumped into a noble lord, the guillotine and the horse's hooves wouldn't joke with you.
"I have a task for you, let's rehearse it twice." Fielder called the bobcat to him, mysteriously talking and comparing.
Since he had already privatized the Bull Baron's weaponry, he didn't care to go a little more overboard.
After letting the bobcat lead the twenty men away, Fielder pondered over the weaponry in front of him.
"Take it all away, it has to be all away, otherwise it's hard to feel all over." Feld paced back and forth a few times, "Ashena, have Caor bring everyone over, send the equipment down from the walls, we'll pick them up after we've crossed the pass, they're already the equipment of the Nightfall Collar."
Not enough! Weapons and equipment alone, Feld could not be satisfied, going to the Nightmare Collar was a big gamble, one had to be desperate.
The Click Mountain Fortress had the nation's nobles supplying it, but the villages under its collar would not pay less than half a point in taxes. In total, there are six large villages, responsible for providing the fortress supply, because the land is fertile, every year will be a constant supply of cattle and sheep wheat and taxes to the baron's castle.
As the hills and ravines rolled by, a group of well-equipped soldiers carrying the family banner of the Baron of the Bulls passed through the withered vines and weeds, as well as the broken walls.
Niujiao Village, known in the countryside for its two towering sentry towers, which are actually only four meters high, still counting the top cover, but still the pride of the village. These two seemingly humble sentry towers, as long as they stood on the hunters, they could rely on the outer wooden walls and militia to defend themselves from bandits.
Just last night, they shot three carrion carcasses, rumored to have leaked in from outside the walls.
Goodness, even monsters had appeared inside the fortress, a situation that made the old men think of the dreaded orcs.
Three or four villagers in hemp clothes sat at the entrance of the village with dung forks and vegetable soup, gossiping and discussing how many rounds the widows of the eastern village could survive the green-skinned orcs, occasionally letting out a nasty maniacal laugh.
"It's your lord's soldiers!" The villagers recognized the flag, but it was not clear where the soldiers were coming from, and everyone was at a loss.
Soon, the slave guards led by the bobcat came into view.
"Open the door." The bobcat cursed, and the soldier beside him cooperated by pestling his halberd to the ground, the infantry zamora made a crisp clinking sound, and the bobcat, following the example of the nobles, toed the line and growled, "Do you want us to stay outside the door and drink the northwesterly wind? Damn fools."
The villagers snapped to attention and hurriedly pouted their butts off to welcome the crowd in.
"My lord, is it about the carrion corpses? Our village fended off the Carrion's attack, thanks to the gods, and of course, thanks to Lord Baron, we'll offer up young girls to ensure Lord Baron's satisfaction." The village chief's face smiled as brightly as a chrysanthemum and took the initiative to welcome him, but after seeing the bobcat, he obviously froze for a moment, "This officer, it seems that I haven't seen you before."
Bobcat was nervous in his heart, but thought of Field's explanation, when he encountered a bad answer, he could just curse directly.
"Fork your mother, you Viper's lapdog, where did you get so much nonsense!" Bobcat directly drew his sword, "I'm here to collect taxes, not to recognize my relatives, you know! I don't care if you've seen me before!"
The village chief was sprayed with saliva, and was so scared by the bobcat's drawn sword that he almost rolled over on the ground, "I should have, my lord, it's my fault."
"Agricultural taxes, population tax, family tax, faith tax, land tax, exemption tax, breathing tax, and what the heck else, you know, the taxes we always pay in Bull Territory."
Medieval taxes were extremely varied, and there was always one for the baby farmer.