Rowan looked out over the sea of suspicious faces. His recruitment campaign had taken the town by storm, first met with doubt, then derision. Nearly everyone seemed to have a thing or two to say about the ideas of recruiting commoners that even the mercenaries had passed over. Now, as he prepared to open applications, the air thrummed with tension.

“Those of you who want to support your families, fight for your home, climb up the tiers - you're welcome here,” Rowan declared, his voice carrying across the square. “Today, some of you will get the chance to pursue your ambitions. We will be picking out a total of three hundred new recruits. As a recruit, you will be putting your life on the line. Every day. It’ll be painful and it’ll be dangerous. But it’ll also be a chance for you to change your life. And yes, your heart card quality doesn't matter.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some cautiously stepped forward, others back. Years of mistrust had taught these people to look for angles, for ways they'd be exploited.

Sadly enough, even if he did have bad intentions, Rowan couldn’t see a single reason someone would scheme against these people. Most of those who had shown up looked several stages past desperate. Thinning frames, unkempt appearance, and clothes that were falling apart.

The second half of the gathered crowd was the polar opposite of the first. Curious and bored mercenaries were watching the gathering and snickering.

Well, most of them were snickering.

Rowan noted that those bearing the insignia of the Mercenary King’s company fixed their attention on him. What exactly they were looking for he did not know.

"Applications are now open," Rowan announced, gesturing to the waiting clerks. "Step forward if you’d like to join our army."

Rowan ran his eyes over the crowd one final time and stepped back to join the rest of his party. The stage had a little sitting area with some basic refreshments. This was done at the insistence of Rowan, since he was planning to stay right there and oversee things.

If he simply left and someone caused trouble, his entire recruitment plan would fail.

“You did well.” Olivia whispered, offering him a smile as he got seated.

“Doesn’t really feel like it. No one is even moving forward.”

People hovered just far enough away from the awkward-looking clerks to not be perceived as approaching them. Some looked tempted more, but ultimately, it seemed like the word of their new mayor, hero or not, wasn’t enough.

Then, a determined teenager pushed through the crowd. "My name is Clarke. I'm a level one [Swordsman]," he declared, voice wavering slightly. "My heart card is Gullible Thoughts."

The clerk got to work as soon as the young man opened his mouth, expertly filling out the application form. “May I know what your heart card does?”

Now that he had admitted his card’s name out loud, Clarke was remarkably more willing to discuss its effect. “It's just a common tier. It slightly improves my chances of catching someone when they’re lying to me. It’s pretty obvious as a feeling I get when it works.”

“Excellent. Now, can I ask you to do fifty push-ups for me, please?”

The young man looked more than a little embarrassed, but complied anyway. Rowan felt for him, but he was the one who insisted on at least testing that much. He needed able-bodied recruits and even with their dilapidated states, fifty push-ups was possible through sheer force of will.

Clarke didn’t even struggle with the task. The clerk pulled out a smaller form, filled it out, and stamped it. “Here you go, young man. You are to report to the military training field next to the mayor’s mansion tomorrow morning.”

Looking more than a little shell-shocked and stuck staring at the slip of paper, Clarke nodded and then wandered away from the clerk. Instantly, two more people stepped forward and found their own clerks.

Rowan looked over the crowd once more. They were starting to stir. He could almost sense the thoughts percolating through the crowd. There was still doubt but he could feel the embers of hope rising. The doubt wouldn’t disappear in a single day but he could fan the hope some more. Rowan nodded to a couple of the rare-tier soldiers, who went into the crowd and began advertising as the living embodiment of what was possible.

“That was nerve wracking.” Rowan admitted as he sank into his seat a little more easily. It was ridiculously soft, and he was more than a little happy at being able to enjoy it properly.

“Were you worried no one would apply, oh mighty leader?” Milena teased, but Rowan wasn’t fooled. The beast folk was just as nervous as he was initially. Her tail was practically fighting her to poof out.

“Yes, yes I was. If no one applied after all of this, it would have been more than a little embarrassing and a waste of time and money. Can you imagine what Lady Sutton would have done to me?”

“Isn’t it a bit much to be so afraid of your mother in law?” Marcus drawled, though quickly shrunk into his seat when he was nailed to his chair by a sharp glare instead.

“That’s extremely rude, Marcus. Rowan isn’t terrified of my mother!” Olivia, eyes twinkling with cruel delight, turned her attention to Rowan. “Isn’t that right?”

This time, Rowan definitely blushed.

—

As the day dragged on, the recruitment proceeded mostly without hitch. Though Rowan was worried about one of the other town factions would try something to mess with them, the worst they had to deal with was the threat of heatstroke.

The sun beat down relentlessly onto the world and Rowan ordered chilled water for the crowd. It was another expense on an already overtaxed budget but if a little bit of ice could build a positive image of him in the town, he’d take the trade any day of the week.

The other hitch in the recruitment process came at the very end.

The problem presented itself as a small, malnourished girl. Her size wasn’t the issue. Nor was her health, since almost every one of the new recruits was malnourished or weak.

The problem was that she was rather loudly arguing that her age shouldn’t disqualify her application. The clerk kept his voice calm and immediately flagged one of the people in charge of water distribution so the girl could have a drink.

That only made her argue harder.

“The hero mayor said that our heart card doesn’t matter! We only need to do fifty pushups, right? Well, I can do that!” To prove her point, she did them, then pouted up at the man. The effect was rather ruined when she could only barely see above the edge of the desk he worked behind.

“The quality and effect of the heart card doesn’t matter, yes. However, the implication is there that you need to have a heart card,” the clerk repeated, for about the fifth time. “You’re only eight. Why don’t you come back in a couple years?”

Rowan was just about to intercede when Olivia sighed and stood up.

The girl didn’t notice her at first, too busy arguing, but the onlookers sure did. They opened up a path, allowing Olivia to slip up behind the girl and plop her hand on her head.

“You are an awfully determined little thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m not little!” The girl protested, pushing away Olivia’s hand and spinning around, only to falter when she caught sight of the alchemist. “Oh. Um.” Just like that, her courage fled her, and she drew in on herself like she was trying to make for a smaller target.

“Tell me, can you help with cooking? Carry things around? Any experience with past work?” Olivia asked.

Having something to latch onto, the little girl immediately launched into a reply. “Yes, yes, and yes. I used to help out in the tavern near where we lived.” She paused, then, as though she was afraid that wasn’t enough, rushed to add. “Everyone said I was super useful!”

“Well, I suppose we’ll see about that,” Olivia said haughtily, but Rowan could see the spark of delight in her eyes. She waved to one of the water distributors. “Can you please take her back to the manor? Tell whoever’s in charge of the kitchen that she’ll be assisting with meal distribution for the new soldiers.”

“I didn’t want to-” The girl’s words came out rushed and angry, before the fight left her. “I mean… thank you.” She obediently trailed after the man who was put in charge of guiding her.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Ironically, Olivia seemed a lot less sure about her decision after making it. She snuck a few glances at Rowan as she made her way back. “You don’t mind, do you? I mean, I know it’s your manor and all, but when I saw her, I just…”

“It’s fine,” Rowan said, placing his hand on hers. “I was about to do something similar myself. Not going to just let a kid run around if she’s desperate enough to apply to be a soldier.” Olivia offered him a smile, and Rowan realized he would have approved her request just to see that expression. That made all kinds of feelings squirm in his chest. “In spite of everything, I really don’t think we’re going to hit the numbers we were going for.”

Plenty of people had come to see what all the fuss what about but far too many people were still milling around. It was obvious that only a fraction of the total number intended to apply.

“Honestly? That’s fine. It’s not like you have a battle to fight tomorrow. Give it time. None of them know what you’re planning to do with the new recruits, it’s natural for them to be skeptical,” Olivia replied.

At the end of the day, Rowan walked away from the square with two hundred and thirteen new recruits. Not quite the three hundred he’d wanted, but it did effectively double the number of souls under his command.

The thought both thrilled and terrified him.

—

The next day dawned sunny and pleasantly warm. For the first time in days, Rowan actually got enough sleep the previous night and managed to outrun his troubles for a few moments.

The baroness was still doubtful about the success of his plans, but even she had congratulated him on the number of new recruits when they returned the day prior.

Now, he basked in the sun as ten new officers surrounded him.

Behind them were rows of tables, carrying literal piles of bread and similarly robust food items there. The food wasn’t anything special, just stuff that wouldn’t spoil in spite of sitting out in the sun for a couple of hours. Still, for the recruits who had been struggling at the very bottom of the local society as recently as yesterday, it was a veritable feast.

“They should be here soon, my lord,” one of the officers, a woman named Rayne, said. She looked as eager to get her hands on the recruits as he was. “They’re currently receiving their new gear and some basic instructions on how to care for it at the barracks.”

“Wonder what they’ll think of us later today,” another officer, Trevor, said. “I must admit that your plan for them is quite something, Lord Rowan.” He, unlike Rayne, sounded worried for the recruits.

Rowan looked to Bryson, who had remained quiet through all of the chatter. In designing his army, Rowan had taken direct inspiration from Kayden. The men all reported up to Bryson, the spear division officer that Rowan had promoted to lead the army. In fact, the training program was also copied from Rowan’s time under the baron.

“It’s good to have compassion for the people under your command,” Bryson said. “But you coddling too much will only get them killed on the battlefield. Better to sweat in training than bleed in a fight.”

Rowan hadn’t picked out the most powerful or talented combatants to lead the new troops. Instead, he’d picked out the most patient and detail-oriented ones. In the time the baroness and chamberlain were preparing the recruitment drive, he had spoken to the army’s officers at length and even interviewed some of the potential officers himself.

Finally, the recruits started to trickle in.

The came alone or in pairs. No real groups had formed just yet. Some looked uncomfortable in their new armor while others were right at home. It was a ragtag army, one that would need to be trained. Which was just what Rowan intended to do.

“Okay. Now that you’re here and you’re properly equipped, we can start. First, I want you to meet your future superior officers.”

One by one, the officers stepped forward and loudly announced their names before falling back. Most of them were quite young, something the recruits had noticed too judging by the considering and greedy gazes of some.

If they thought they’d be getting a quick and easy promotion out of joining up, though, Rowan was eager to disabuse them of the notion.

“Excellent!” Rowan gave his most bloodthirsty, unhinged smile. “Now that’s over, let me make one thing clear. As you are now, you are useless to me. Most of you are barely in good enough shape to recruit to begin with. So, from today, we’ll work on fixing that. In other words, I want you to run.”

Confusion was apparent in the ranks of the recruits, even if several of them were quick to head for the running track that circled the training grounds. Rowan noted those immediately and subtly signaled for Trevor to note down their names later.

He wasn’t upset when most of the recruits didn’t follow to do the same. After all, motivating them and building up good habits was why he’d promoted new officers to begin with.

Still, when Rayne stepped forward and cracked an actual whip, he did wince a little. “His lordship said to run, little recruits. So, you’ll run.”

The recruits got the message. But on the track, they were pitiful. They were slow. Their stamina was so ridiculously low that Rowan wondered if he had ever been that bad himself.

Still, they tried. And when their bodies faltered, his officers were there, hounding, prodding, and threatening them to continue. It was mostly Rayne who was doing the last part, but Rowan had to admit he was reluctantly impressed.

By the time a mere half an hour was over and they were allowed to stop running, Rowan’s recruits were a sweaty and exhausted mess.

Then the officers pounced, once again shouting instructions and beginning the next set of exercises.

He had the foresight to not give them a hearty breakfast before training began. But that didn’t seem to be enough when some of the recruits began throwing up. Rowan stayed in his place even as the smell of the training grounds grew progressively worse.

“You can leave anytime you want,” Rowan said, his voice echoing above the heavy breaths. “I’m not here to chain you to this army. But neither am I here to run a charity. If you want a purpose, then you’ll first build yourselves into a force. Hearty meals don’t come cheap.”

Once the allotted time for torment ran out and the recruits were reduced to quivering messes, an army of servants marched onto the training grounds. Much to Rowan’s amusement, the little girl whose name he still didn’t know was among them.

As they went about forcing a pair of potions down each of the recruits, Rowan had to stifle a sigh. This was the most expensive part of his whole plan and easily the most risky one. He had assurances from Olivia it would work and she’d done her best to minimize the costs too.

As the potion effects took hold, he watched as the recruits’ condition visibly evened out to something approaching functional. Then, of course, a monstrous hunger took hold, and Rowan suspected that even without instructions from the servants they wouldn’t have hesitated to head for the food.

“Impressive and horrifying,” the hero muttered, watching with wide eyes as his new recruits descended upon the food like a host of ravenous demons.

There wasn’t even a crumb left by the time they were done.

“Okay, you sorry lot,” Rayne commanded. “Now that you’ve eaten, you are to return to your assigned barracks. You have two hours of rest time, so use it wisely. If any one of you doesn’t show up here after that time is up, I’ll come to drag you out here myself.”

With that ominous warning, Rayne allowed the weary crowd to shuffle off in search of shelter. Most of them looked incredibly drowsy and Rowan sighed as he realized that a number of them would likely get to see that the woman wasn’t making idle threats.

Rowan didn’t enjoy torturing the recruits, but this was something that they needed. Camilla had done her best to teach Rowan about the basics of running an army and discipline was a core tenet in every fighting force. Everyone had to know the rules. That was the only way to command hundreds of men in a single direction.

But with the potions Olivia had brewed, the recruits would actually survive the process.

It was a special recipe, one that was inspired by Rowan’s own Lavish Feasting and Persistent Regeneration combination. One potion made digestion ridiculously effective, allowing the body to take in far more energy than normally possible. The other used that energy to heal and build muscle.

In other words, Rowan was putting them through a cardio and recovery regime from hell. So long as they could complete what was coming at them, his recruits would at least be in acceptable physical condition. Olivia had warned that it wouldn’t be effective once they had a decent number of stats, likely around ten, but it was more than enough for his current purposes.

Especially since the cardio program was only half of the equation. Once the morning break was over, it was time for the recruits to start combat and weapons training.

If he was being honest with himself, Rowan felt more than a little depressed at how pitiful class variety was among his recruits. There were so many [Swordsmen] there that he was absolutely certain that the only thing that had guided their decision-making was youthful exuberance. For some reason, the [Swordsman] classes were the epitome of honor and power in the kingdom he now called home.

But it did simplify things somewhat. Even with a couple of more unusual classes, standardizing the training regime for the new troops wasn’t difficult. The officers all had extensive experience with the weapons they were teaching, and he could always temporarily pull others from the original army.

Rowan was reluctant to do that too much, especially since those troops could dedicate their time to hunting monsters and boosting their levels.

In fact, he would be joining them soon. He insisted on being there for the recruit’s first day, but there was absolutely no reason to idle away watching them training. He wouldn’t let himself fall for the pitfalls the baroness had pointed out to him.

His troops needed to be strong, yes.

But the hero party had to grow too.

—

It was absolutely amazing what two short weeks could accomplish, Rowan reflected as he watched the recruits train.

Just a short time ago, the basic exercise would all but crush them. Now? They were breezing through it now even with a heightened level of difficulty.

“I have to say, I know I provided the potions for it and all, but this is… impressive,” Olivia said, looking inordinately proud.

And she had more than enough reason to be.

“I don’t think I say this as often as I should, but you’re amazing, Olivia,” Rowan said. She giggled, bumping him with her shoulder. “You think they’re ready for heading outside of the town?”

“Oh yes, I should say they are,” Milena said approvingly, eyes rowing over the recruits and looking for signs of weakness. “Honestly, I can barely even recognize them. I watched them get recruited and this is an incredible transformation.”

In a way, Rowan was extremely flattered to hear her say that. He’d picked up a bunch of half-starved, hopeless men and women.

Now?

Well, no one would mistake them for starving peasants ever again. Each and every one of them looked healthy, and the corded muscles they sported hinted at their profession.

Of course, the fact of the matter remained that they were untested. These troops had received the best training he could offer to them. But they were still mostly common classes. They needed experience.

And they also needed to be put under a real stress test.

“I am extremely proud of your progress,” Rowan announced. “I still remember the way most of you looked that first day after your initial training. But, look at you now! However… I’m afraid this is not enough.” He could see their faces fall at his words. He’d started building them up, only to snatch further praise away. He had to admit that the baroness’s advice was quite effective most of the time. “Now that your foundation is set, it’s time to deliver on my promise to you. I promised you levels. I promised you that you would rise through the tiers. So, it is time that my promise be kept. Tomorrow, you will accompany my party into the wastes. Tomorrow, you earn your first levels.”

His new troops didn’t disappoint him.

He could see the hunger in their eyes, the desire to grow and become better. As cheering rose up around him, Rowan smiled.