What Makes A Good Lord? (6)

After building the houses and setting up several latrines to serve as communal toilets—plus a few other tasks—I had burned through all the mana I could call today’s quota.

That, too, felt refreshing in its own way, and I was smiling in satisfaction when Seria asked me a question.

“Why are you treating the slaves this well?”

An unexpected question. I countered by asking Seria instead.

“Is there any reason I have to be cruel to slaves?”

“…That’s not it, but generally, slaves…”

Seria stopped when our eyes met. She seemed to have a lot to say but apparently chose not to.

“I think people should live as efficiently as possible. That’s how you get a reasonable amount of labor and efficiency.”

“What do you plan to have them do?”

“Of course I plan to train them to manage medicinal ingredients.”

I intended to have the slaves do what the mercenaries had done before. Not like a black company forcing them to work eighteen hours, though.

I planned to let them live freely outside of a strict ten-hour shift. If they found a match they liked, I would let them pair off, and I would pay modest compensation for their labor.

Slaves were people, too. They had things they wanted, and what I hated, they would hate as well. On that basis, I intended to make them proactive slaves to a reasonable degree.

“Now, let me ask you something, Seria: suppose you were a slave. Even if I told you to live freely… could you leave this domain?”

This place was a kind of natural prison. It was practically a treasure house(?) of nature, home to monsters that could toy with A-rank mercenary companies like they were children.

In a place like this, I didn’t think there was any need to oppress and make life harsh on purpose. Simply living here had to be a hardship.

I spoke to Seria, who couldn’t answer my question.

“I’m going to provide them with moderate labor, freedom, and what they need for daily life, in reasonable measure. And I’ll try to make slaves who aren’t ordered around, but who can find the work they should do and do it themselves. Do you think that’s possible?”

I asked Seria, but I was asking myself, too. And I thought it might actually be possible.

For one thing, beastkin were living along almost every stretch of wall around the lord’s manor. Those who used to be scattered through the forest had, about two weeks ago, decided to cling to the manor walls and live there.

‘Well, it’s only natural, after what happened…’

In short, the lord’s manor had begun to be treated by the beastkin as a kind of inviolable sacred zone. Thanks to that, their safety was guaranteed; even if someone wanted to run away, if they feared the beastkin, they couldn’t go.

Even if they fled, they wouldn’t get far because of the monsters.

The wall, the beastkin, and the monsters formed a curtain that was an unscalable barrier for a slave.

“Judging by the situation, the imperial princess will keep sending slaves, so I’m thinking I might as well fill the inside of the manor walls with humans this time.”

Seria looked like she had a lot to say but said nothing more, so that was the end of the conversation. After that, I assigned houses to the slaves and issued an order to rest well for today.

As for food and such, I told them to distribute what the Emmanuel Merchant Company had brought; without assigning even a single watcher, I left them up on the hill and headed back to the lord’s manor.

“Why aren’t you setting anyone to watch over them?”

“Terror told to you is one thing, but terror you experience firsthand is what truly cowes people. They say seeing is worth a hundred hearings.”

Seria didn’t understand the last bit, but I immediately met Janet to find out how many more slaves were coming; when I heard they would send a total of three thousand slaves, I was speechless.

“So, tomorrow another group like today’s will arrive. Is that it?”

“That’s right. Tomorrow and the day after, a total of seven hundred slaves will arrive.”

I wondered what to do with that crazy imperial princess, but since they were bringing food with them, I decided to accept it without grumbling for now. Then I went to the workshop, took the Tiger Balm Beni had packed, and gathered the maids in one place; their eyes lit up when they recognized what I held.

“I get that you all want this, but before handing it out, may I ask one favor?”

Everyone looked at me. Then I brought up what I’d been mulling over on the way here.

“First, tomorrow and the day after, quite a lot of slaves will arrive. I wanted to warn you that it will be very hard. My request is that you select those among the slaves who could serve as maids and train them.”

At my words, a few maids showed discomfort.

From what they said, “maid” counted as a fairly upper-class job even for commoners.

So of course there were maids who lived with pride. Moreover, Ingrad—if not for its harsh environment—was a workplace where they could receive a high monthly wage.

“To avoid misunderstanding, let me say this clearly: I don’t intend to replace or dismiss any of you.”

“Then why ask such an unreasonable favor?”

The question came from a maid named “Dain,” who I knew had some seniority. I looked at her and said:

“I’m about ready to have a lord’s castle of my own. I can’t bring in more maids from outside, so I’m trying to solve it internally. That’s why we need training.”

“Ah…”

Several maids’ eyes flared. They seemed to be exchanging signals, but I ignored that and continued.

“As for attendants, I’d like Mr. Vincent to take charge. About ten should be fine…?”

“Attendants… Understood. So you’re finally going to have a lord’s castle…”

“Raising the building itself isn’t a burden.”

“A blessed gift, that.”

Vincent sounded jealous, and then Dain and a few other maids raised their hands with a question.

“How many maids do you want trained?”

“For now, I’d like each of you to take on two trainees. Since you still have your current duties, let’s make it thirty trainees total.”

A stir ran through them again. So I addressed the maids:

“You’d be disappointed without compensation, so—let me tell you your pay. Twenty jars of this per maid you train. How about it?”

I said, holding up the Tiger Balm. I’d planned to share it anyway, but at this point I figured I might as well use it as training compensation.

And the reaction was good. According to Seria and Beni, one jar of Tiger Balm could last about a week.

That was assuming you spread it very thinly over the whole body—meaning that if you used it only on the face or exposed skin, it would last a very long time.

Hearing they’d get twenty jars of that, the maids’ eyes shone brilliantly. One after another, they rolled up their sleeves, volunteering to train, when a lone voice drifted through the bustle.

“I… don’t need anything like that…”

It was Vincent. Heard, and yet… not heard.

After that, the days were a whirlwind until the Emmanuel Merchant Company departed. For staffing, we decided to pick additional former-maid slaves and assign them; and, hearing that the lord’s castle might need more than fifty maids depending on its scale, we asked the ex-maid slaves to train as well.

We began with maid training first; since there were some who had been attendants, we paired them with Vincent so he could share the attendant training.

After that, even though I nearly collapsed while constructing the slaves’ housing and various other buildings needed for daily life, we somehow managed a small miracle.

“It’s done!!”

Beni had accompanied me today as the attending maid; she wiped my sweat with a bashful smile, and I thanked her, looked around, and felt proud of what I had accomplished.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen so many people.”

At Beni’s words, I said “Oh, really?” and then thought through the jobs to give the slaves.

The grounds of the lord’s manor were enormous. Even after preparing space for a thousand people to live, the estate was so broad it didn’t feel crowded at all; the problem was that, with so many humans, the beastkin had begun to take an interest.

Partly because of me, their aversion to humans had eased a lot—but, of course, there were also curious beastkin.

I had no intention of blocking exchanges between them and the slaves. It would happen sooner or later anyway. So I figured it was about time to start moving the beastkin’s workshops from near the manor over this way as well.

“Drying or roasting herbs is simple but labor-intensive… so we can have the slaves do it…”

“Grinding to powder takes a lot of work, too!”

Indeed, as Beni said, that work took many hands. By contrast, the pressing-juice process suited the beastkin, who had greater physical strength, so I didn’t plan to assign that to the slaves.

Efficiency was one thing, but I also figured they wouldn’t press juice cleanly. On the assumption we would split the work between the two groups, I had to design the workshops: near the manor where the sun hit—places without trees—would be for buildings to roast herbs and handle ingredients that needed sun-drying.

And for ingredients that needed trees, shade, and a bit of humidity, I planned to set up near the fruit trees behind the manor; I briefly wondered if that would be inconvenient for hauling and transporting when the work was done, but…

“I’m not the one doing it.”

At any rate, with labor about to be abundant, I roughly set the plan. The pressing could still be done where the beastkin were working now, but I thought to move the workshop so the slaves could get used to the beastkin. Then I would prepare a separate place to butcher monsters and the like and have the slaves learn that from Aenia as well.

We couldn’t keep relying only on knights who would leave in a few months, stuffing them with costly payments.

It would be hard, but if they did well, I intended to draw out proactive labor under the condition of freeing them from slavery.

“Slave emancipation? Heh—can’t leave anyway…”

Unless it was by teleport, there was no getting out. So I planned to dangle bait.

After sketching out that rough plan, I looked at Beni, who was clinging to me, and said:

“Alright, shall we clock out too?”

“Hehe, look forward to tonight as well!”

What exactly she wanted me to look forward to… well, say no more— I knew.