The Lord: Raising a Maiden in the World of Torment

"Sir, all the goods have been packed up. Last night's 'support materials,' including seven cows, twenty sheep, a packhorse, and various other items, have been recorded in your ledger and bundled for transport."

The steward, Karim, stood on the wall in his neatly tailored tunic, but his face was anything but cheerful. No one was happy about venturing into the Northern Province. Gazing into the distance, all he could see was an endless expanse of grey mist stretching into the heavens.

He had considered fleeing, but Field left him no opportunity.

Lynx and the other slave soldiers, thoroughly corrupted by the lure of money, had become Field's loyal enforcers. Karim was certain that if he tried to escape, those cursed lapdogs would kill him on the spot—and Field would reward them with a silver coin for their efforts.

Those damned dogs, Karim cursed silently. Selling their souls and risking their lives for a few coins.

But such was the nature of slaves. Give them a glimmer of hope and a touch of privilege, and they'd lay down their lives in return.

"By the way, sir..." Karim hesitated, glancing repeatedly at Ashina before finally blurting out his question. "That slave—pardon me, Miss Ashina—is she truly a Chosen One? You're not just bluffing us, are you? Could she perhaps show us a miracle?"

Field had gathered everyone last night to announce the revelation of Ashina as a Chosen One, aiming to bolster morale.

"I need to prove myself to you?" Field snapped, cutting off Ashina's instinct to summon her dragonwolf. "Why don't you go lead the charge to reclaim the North, and I'll be your steward? Though I wonder if you'd even survive the Empire's retaliation."

Field's cold glare bore into Karim. The steward had been a consistent source of pessimism, sowing doubt with his every word. If not for his rare ability to read and write, Field would've happily demoted him to stable hand.

It was time to put Karim in his place.

Feeling the pressure, Karim's forehead immediately broke out in cold sweat. He let out an awkward grunt, too afraid to speak further.

My lord has completely changed—like a different person, Karim thought, his mind a jumbled mess. Maybe the pressure from the family is too much for him? That would make sense. After all, I don't want to enter the Cursed Lands either, and I'm just a steward. A pampered noble must hate it even more.

"No objections? Then let's move out!"

Field lit one of the mist-repelling lanterns. At twenty-five gold coins apiece, every minute the lantern burned felt like throwing money into a fire.

Clenching his teeth, Field took the first step into the Northern Province.

The world around him transformed. All sounds and signs of life disappeared in an instant, replaced by a suffocating silence.

Looking up, Field saw the dense, greyish deathly mist that surrounded them. It was eerily still, blocking out even the sun. The oppressive atmosphere created an illusion of being deep underwater, leaving Field feeling tense and uneasy. If even he felt this way, it was no wonder the slaves were terrified.

Without the protection of the mist-repelling lantern, they would have been corrupted already. Thankfully, the announcement of Ashina as a Chosen One had bolstered their morale. Without these measures, the group might have succumbed to panic and flung themselves into the mist, only to transform into monsters.

The ground was covered in writhing, reddish-black "tendrils." These were plants that had been corrupted. While they posed no direct threat, they clung to the cart wheels, slowing the group's progress.

It's like something straight out of Silent Hill, Field thought, forcing himself to remain calm.

Walking at the front of the group, he made sure to keep himself visible. His composed demeanor gave the others a sense of direction and, more importantly, courage.

If even a cautious noble like him is leading us, what excuse do we have to run away?

"Gaaa... gaaa... gaaa..."

From within the grey mist came a series of eerie, distorted cries. The mist-repelling lantern illuminated only about a hundred paces ahead, while the guttural roars echoed from much farther away, leaving the group feeling entirely exposed and vulnerable.

Ruined walls and crumbling debris dotted the landscape. The ground was littered with severed, shriveled heads still impaled on rusted iron spears. Field even spotted faded gryphon banners—remnants of the Empire's ill-fated expansion armies. They had all perished, becoming permanent "locals" in the cursed land.

"Gulp."

Field swallowed nervously.

"Stay behind me, sir." Ashina's crimson eyes darted toward the right. Her voice carried a sharp edge. "There's something approaching."

Soon, a staggering figure with half its face missing emerged from the mist—a corrupted corpse.

Swish!

Ashina nocked an arrow and let it fly, the silver streak slicing cleanly through the air.

The undead's head exploded like a watermelon, its body tumbling twice before lying still on the ground.

"Be careful! More monsters are coming!" Field's mini-map lit up with a cluster of skull markers. With their position revealed, he no longer bothered to keep his voice down.

"Set up the carts into a barricade, just like before! Archers, fire at will!" he commanded sharply.

Thanks to the supplies looted from Ka Mountain Fortress, Field had equipped his team with eighty crossbows and a hundred Imperial longbows. Unfortunately, only two or three slaves had any archery experience.

Thankfully, crossbows were far easier to use. He had managed to arm twenty archers with them, giving his ragtag group a fighting chance.

The monstrous cries grew louder and more frenzied, accompanied by the thunderous rhythm of countless footsteps. A dense horde of corrupted corpses surged forward, their dark forms pressing together in a chaotic mass.

Thanks to Field's mini-map, he had a clear sense of the monsters' positions, but their overwhelming density left no room for retreat. The group was forced into close combat.

"Damn it, fire!" Field commanded, though the trembling slaves had already loosed their crossbow bolts.

Swish, swish—

The first rank of the undead collapsed as if hitting an invisible wall, with seven or eight falling immediately.

Ashina, meanwhile, had abandoned her bow. Instead, she summoned her dragonwolf and charged into the fray. Though only a first-tier Chosen One, her combat prowess far exceeded that of ordinary mortals.

Her long blade danced through the air like a butterfly, cutting down one corrupted foe after another.

Some lost their heads to her swift strikes; others were crushed beneath the dragonwolf's massive claws. In the densest part of the horde, the dragonwolf unleashed a fiery spin, spewing blue flames in a blazing cyclone. The surrounding undead were instantly reduced to ashes.

"She's... really a Chosen One?" Karim muttered, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. His face was a picture of astonishment.

Though Ashina had taken on much of the burden, the tension in the air remained unbroken. The oppressive gray mist obscured their vision, and the seemingly endless wave of corrupted creatures pouring forth from it gnawed at everyone's nerves.

"Kill!" Lynx growled, gripping his pike tightly. He thrust it forward with all his might, impaling an oncoming corpse.

Three or four pikes thrust into the chest of a corrupted creature simultaneously, twisting and lifting it off the ground. The corpse flopped onto the ground like a torn sack.

More undead swarmed toward Lynx and the slave guards, their fists and claws raining down like hailstones against the soldiers' shields and lamellar armour. The cacophony of strikes echoed like hammer blows on metal.

"Huh? What's that flying toward us?"

Field's mini-map flashed a warning—a rapidly moving skull marker was now directly above him. Wasting no time, he slid off his horse in one swift motion.

Standing tall makes you a prime target, he thought grimly.

No sooner had his boots hit the ground than a gust of wind rushed past him.

"Watch out above!"

Field instinctively crouched low, drawing his longsword as he looked up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the attacker—a bat-woman.

Hairless and browless, her face was grotesque. While her torso bore some semblance to a human female, her arms had transformed into leathery bat wings, and her legs ended in razor-sharp talons.