"Two people from different races—Demei-humans and humans can actually become friends." Phield nodded with satisfaction, wondering if he could use them as a model for propaganda, and quietly followed behind.
The very next moment, Phield regretted doing something stupid. The two women squatted down together, legs spread in an M-shape, exposing their mud-caked, filthy buttocks as they began defecating without any restraint.
Phield's pupils quaked in shock; he couldn't believe what he was seeing and blurted out, "Holy shit! My eyes!"
They were just casually relieving themselves right on the path! Was there no law anymore?
"Is this strange?" Kaor scratched his nose, not even furrowing his brow—he was long accustomed to it. "That's just how filthy the lower classes are."
Kaor was unfazed. In the Sacred Griffin Empire, and across the entire continent, this was commonplace: roads, streets, even stairwells were filled with excrement, buzzing with flies and teeming with rats swimming through it.
Even the maids who served Phield would secretly relieve themselves in the corners of the house because outside was dark and terrifying.
Kaor secretly speculated: perhaps the lord simply enjoyed voyeurism but was too embarrassed to admit it in front of him.
After all, before coming to the Nightfall Domain, the first thing Phield did was buy a plaything—though that plaything turned out to be a Divine Chosen, Kaor firmly believed it was just luck.
Which noble wasn't perverted, anyway?
"I was busy handling territory matters earlier and forgot about this." Phield pressed his forehead, trying to lower his blood pressure.
He suddenly remembered that the Middle Ages were an era of chaotic sanitation, even leading to massive outbreaks like the Black Death.
He had always traveled by horse, and the tall horses had kept him from noticing the feces within the territory.
Phield wiped the sweat from his brow. As a modern person, he absolutely would not allow medieval chaos in his territory.
"Poor sanitary conditions breed viruses and cause diseases like the Black Death."
Steward Kaor couldn't understand. "Feces and… uh, what are viruses?"
"Kaor, I'm issuing an important law right now: from now on, no one is allowed to casually relieve themselves in public places. All waste must be deposited in a designated pit." Phield wagged his finger, then turned away with his hands behind his back. "First, make sure everyone memorizes this decree. For violations in the future: warnings for the first three times, then fines! One copper coin for slaves, three for freemen."
"Fines?" Kaor's eyes lit up instantly. "You truly are an economic genius."
Phield frowned. "It's just a fine—what does that have to do with economics?"
"Many lords already levy breathing taxes and blinking taxes, but an excretion tax—I mean, excretion fine—you're the first to invent it. Truly a stroke of genius. If we implement it, there'll be substantial income every day."
Steward Kaor was overjoyed. Phield's earlier waste of eggs had weighed heavily on him, but seeing Phield's talent for taxation match his talent for squandering, Kaor immediately felt relieved. It seemed the Nightfall Domain's finances could last a long time.
"This is what a noble should do." Kaor bowed respectfully. "You are a model among nobles."
Phield waved his hand speechlessly. "Go carry it out."
Then Phield continued the guards' training.
It wasn't until noon, when Ashina returned to the territory, that Phield finally released the wailing, begging guards and let them go eat.
He then summoned the freshly returned Ashina.
"How did it go? Was clearing the granary smooth this time?"
Phield opened the mini-map; all the skull markers at the granary location had been wiped away, looking refreshingly clean.
Ashina stuck out her little tongue playfully, stretched in a languid, enchanting lazy pose, and winked cutely. "Thanks to you, clearing the corrupted corpses went very smoothly."
"The only pity is that the granary had nothing of value. The mountains of wheat were completely corrupted, and more than half the granary had collapsed." Ashina took out a sack containing samples of the wheat from the granary.
"This was expected. Go rest for now."
After several campaigns, Phield realized that having ordinary soldiers operate alongside Ashina was nothing more than adding difficulty for her.
Therefore, Phield planned to split forces into two paths: Ashina, relying on her overwhelming combat strength and mobility, would frequently strike out to clear the gathered corpse hordes in the surroundings. The guards would focus primarily on training, using their remaining time to mop up small lingering waves of corpses.
Phield himself would oversee the soldiers' training and, when free, give Ashina leg massages, rub her tail and ears, and the like.
Everyone had clear divisions of labor, and everyone had a bright future!
In this way, Phield spent a week in the Nightfall Domain. The territory expanded eastward into the forest by five thousand square meters—not even the size of a football field, but still a respectable achievement.
Expanding actual control was very difficult; it required the use of mist-dispelling lamps. First, a mist-dispelling lamp would dispel the local mist, then the guards would eliminate the corrupted corpses, followed by the slaves clearing all traces of corruption—such as vegetation and small animals. Only after all this could Phield's lord ability permanently shelter that land, and it had to be ensured that no new corrupted creatures could invade.
Phield had already summarized the pattern.
"Hey, you idiot! Be careful when lifting the wine barrels! If you keep being so clumsy, I'll give your ass a good kiss with my boot! Then shove your head right into a sow's asshole!"
Kaor's furious roar echoed from downstairs.
"It's time to head to High Castle Province."
Phield set down his quill, stretched lazily, and the maid Scissors immediately handed him his coat obediently.
The Nightfall Domain had no food sources of its own; the territory's food supplies were depleting quickly. To obtain food from the farmlands would likely take a long time, so food needed to be imported through trade.
Coming downstairs, Phield saw the guard captain Ben. He and the guards stood ramrod straight—though they still looked a bit crooked, and the formation was sloppy, Phield was extremely satisfied with it. The daily extra rations hadn't gone to waste; at least the guards weren't so skinny anymore.
"My lord, we wish to be your shield!" Ben declared loudly, his heart filled with respect for this benevolent lord. "Take us with you!"
"Haha, you've always been my shield, but right now I need you to protect the territory." Phield patted his shoulder.
For this trip, he was only bringing Sam and two others as personal guards. However, he would take Ashina and all her raiding cavalry. A Divine Chosen plus twenty cavalry was already a very solid escort force.
After carefully briefing them on defense matters, Phield turned to leave.
"The lord is a true noble—a benevolent lord with a valiant spirit." Ben sighed emotionally.
Ordinary lords wouldn't repeatedly venture into the death mist for adventure.
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