Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Monster
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“What the hell is all that?”
Monster corpses were piled up atop B Field.
A closer look revealed they were Black Goblin bodies.
At that moment, Isaac approached.
“Master, forgive us. We fought as hard as we could, but we couldn’t protect the field.”
Isaac’s shirt was torn, revealing wounds beneath.
“You okay? What about the others?”
The injured had gathered in one spot.
Five slaves lay there, utterly motionless.
“No way...?”
“They’re fine.”
Grandfather had approached without a sound.
“Grandfather?”
“It’s goblin paralysis poison. They’ll wake up once it wears off.”
At least they weren’t dead. What a relief.
Their status as slaves didn’t matter right now.
They were the ones working for me, the ones who would help build my power.
“What happened?”
“Well, about that... Damn, they said the bridge got breached.”
The bridge spanning West River.
It connected present-day River Village to the old West River settlement.
These days, it served to keep monsters from crossing the water.
“The Militia missed it?”
“I don’t get it either, but that’s what they said.”
It wasn’t a vast area—just the bridge needed watching.
And yet they missed it?
Messing around, maybe?
Or asleep on the job?
That wouldn’t be inexplicable.
Humans make mistakes.
But...
I put those thoughts aside for now.
I had immediate issues to handle first.
“Grandfather, we’ll have to put C Field clearing on hold.”
“Agreed. The injured slaves need time to recover. Either way, if it weren’t for them, A Field would’ve been trampled too.”
B Field, the one hit this time, grew clover and ryegrass.
With no livestock yet, even total devastation wouldn’t hurt much.
A Field was different.
Barley grew there.
“Talk about lucky. Call the healers to treat them.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
The sun rose,
and only a third of the slaves headed out to work.
I’d ordered anyone with wounds—or even bad muscle pain—to rest without exception.
All the slaves were put to work on A Field.
Until the injured recovered, we’d halt everything else and focus there.
While I knelt in C Field, casting Earth Restoration,
Isaac approached.
“Master.”
“What is it?”
“Those with just muscle aches say they can work.”
Having seen hope,
the slaves had definitely changed.
Maybe that was why they’d stepped up to defend the field.
“Rest fully.”
“But the C Field clearing...”
I raised a hand to cut Isaac off.
“We’ll plant wheat in C Field. Autumn sowing, summer harvest—plenty of time left, so focus on resting.”
Wheat was sown in fall and harvested in summer.
Fall was still a ways off, so no rush.
“Understood.”
Isaac bowed at the waist.
“Isaac.”
“Yes, Master.”
“You’ll follow my orders, right?”
“Of course. Entrust us with anything.”
“Pick the fastest ones and have them watch the bridge.”
“The bridge?”
“Yeah. This might not have been a coincidence.”
“Understood, Master.”
I trusted Grandfather.
I trusted the River Village folk to a degree.
But I couldn’t rule out Brilda’s people among them.
She’d been one of the territory’s top powers alongside Father, the Frontier Viscount.
That wasn’t all I did.
I wrote to Father.
Requesting Hans.
This wasn’t the first time sending such a letter.
When I’d broken off my engagement to Alensia and returned to the territory,
I’d written to Father then too.
About what happened at the Vampire Duke’s estate,
why I’d had no choice but to come back,
and finally, the request to send Hans.
Of course, no reply came.
Hans never showed.
“Monsters can cross again anytime now that it’s happened once. If only Hans were here...”
Hans.
A knight of Frontier Territory.
He’d shown sword talent since childhood and was hailed as the future blade of Frontier.
He’d been my bodyguard too.
Until I went to the Vampire Duke household.
“Sigh...”
I reviewed the letter I’d just written.
I’d laid out in detail why I needed Hans.
But I doubted he’d send him.
“He doesn’t see me as heir anymore, does he?”
What if Father refused to send Hans? What then?
I started planning without assuming Hans’s arrival.
I left the letter at the village hall
and went to find Grandfather.
“What brings you at this hour?”
“Grandfather, can we get weapons?”
“Weapons?”
Grandfather’s gaze drifted to my waist.
“Not for me. I want to arm the slaves.”
“The slaves? Isn’t that risky?”
“Right now... it should be fine.”
It was certainly a heavy responsibility.
Arming slaves?
In the extreme, it could spark rebellion.
Slaves were desperate folk with nothing to lose, after all.
But what about now?
Now that they’d seen hope?
They had something to lose now, things with no escape.
The chance of rebellion was slim.
And it wasn’t just the hope.
River Village’s own forces weren’t weak.
No—for a village, they were strong.
A good chunk of the residents were hunters.
Suppose the slaves somehow overpowered the whole village in the extreme.
Would their future look bright?
No.
This time, Frontier Territory troops would mobilize.
In the end, nothing gained, everything lost.
‘Even rethinking it, slave rebellion odds are low.’
“The slaves will be fine. I’ll keep them in line.”
“Hmm... Follow me.”
Grandfather took me to the arrow shaft workshop.
It had once been his.
Now he’d sold shares to various villagers.
“Everything but what’s out of stock.”
“Naturally, everything except the unavailable stuff...”
Bang! Bang!
Grandfather embarrassedly patted my back a few times.
Inside, people greeted us.
Grandfather returned the greetings familiarly and pressed on inward.
There, all sorts of weapons were arrayed.
Mostly ranged ones.
Bows of various types, crossbows too.
“Crossbows would be perfect. How many can we get?”
We stripped the arrow shaft workshop bare of crossbows.
No spare cash at the moment, so payment after barley harvest.
.
.
Farm work ended,
and before sunset, we gathered in the clearing.
“From now on, you practice crossbows.”
The slaves took them with complicated expressions.
“Monsters will probably come again. We need to prepare ahead.”
Grandfather helped with crossbow training.
He’d been a hunter for years and knew his way around all sorts of weapons.
One day, two.
Three days, four.
Each day passing, crossbow accuracy rose.
‘Definitely crossbows over bows.’
Bows and crossbows each had pros and cons.
Bows fired fast.
Trained skill meant more power.
Crossbows took time to reload.
But mastery came quicker.
Per Grandfather, a week for basic loading and firing,
two weeks to hit stationary targets.
“Load!”
Grandfather’s voice snapped me from thought; I looked up.
The slaves loaded bolts in perfect unison.
“Fire!”
Shoo-shoo-shoo.
Shoo-shoo-shoo-shoo.
Dozens of bolts thudded into the wooden targets ahead.
About 70% hit the mark.
‘Crossbows solid at this point. Just finish the watchtowers.’
Handing a former farmer slave a crossbow didn’t make them monster fighters.
That’s why we were building watchtowers around the farm.
Frontier Manor, third floor.
Brilda sat in a chair,
her direct maid Anna standing beside her.
“Quite the long letter. So it failed in the end?”
“Yes, Madam.”
Brilda had a man in River Village.
He was the administrative officer there—perfect position for intel,
and for scheming behind the scenes.
“The crucial A Field safe, only the weed patch destroyed? And he calls that half a success?”
Brilda flung the paper away.
Anna picked it up and burned it in a candle flame.
“What now?”
Brilda received regular reports on Elwin’s movements.
One piece of news had caught her ear.
The barley growing on his farm wasn’t tainted by demonic energy.
She’d doubted it at first.
Sent a mage in secret to check.
Magic inspection confirmed: no demonic energy.
‘How? Why? Did he really meet the Goddess of Earth or something?’
Questions flooded her mind.
No answers.
No reasons found.
Rather than dwell on the how,
she pondered what to do next.
The plan: ruin the farm.
Once son Gibson completed his coming-of-age rite,
he could claim the heir position.
Just keep Elwin from shining until then.
“Aaaah!! So little time left!! Why is this happening now!!!”
“Madam, compose yourself. Even if Elwin farms, the heir will be young Master Gibson.”
Brilda calmed a bit at Anna’s words.
“Right. That’s true.”
To rule Monster Island, one needed power.
Power to protect land and people from monsters.
But even so...
“Send another letter. Tell them to trample A Field too.”
She wanted no variables, however small.
Not until Gibson became heir.
“Understood.”