Chapter 1: Arrival of the New Lord [1]

Today’s hunt had been good. I caught a yummy-looking fowl. And on my way home, I also caught a rare deer.

The goddesses were smiling at me today.

The rare dear might have unknowingly separated from its herd. A top predator in the food chain might have preyed on its group.

Hmnn...

Maybe it was a bear or a pack of wolves. Well, thanks to them, I caught an excellent game. It seemed like we would have a lump of sumptuous venison meat for tonight.

Thinking whether my wife would stew or grill it, I couldn’t help but drool.

Oh, I’ll sell a little to the other villagers. I’ll also share a bit with our overworked old chief, my sister, and my in-laws.

It would be good to ask my wife to smoke some meat, saving it for my later hunts. Then, I’ll tan the deerskin and make hunting clothes to combat the cold during winter.

Alright. It's decided then!

Anyway, I heard that a new lord will come today. Should I also give him some? Hmnn, never mind. The others will think I’m sucking up to the new lord.

Some old people here could be quite petty and nasty. They’ll never even let such simple gossip die down.

Anyway, I am quite worried about our old chief.

The old chief would have a lot of explaining to do. This village had at least five-hundred able-bodied men. Only a few people were working to sustain the village. It was enough to provide the village with enough food for the last winter. But how about the next one?

Aside from that, most of the working villagers were old people or middle-aged men like me. The village also has a lot of young dimwits who don’t want to work. Watching them moving like snails really gets to my nerves. Forcing them to their jobs had been a real pain in the ass. I’d rather do the job myself rather than wait for those slowpokes.

Will the new lord maintain the old tax rate?

I hope it stays the same. As long as we have food on the table, that’s good enough. If the new lord increased the tax rate, a lot of villagers would starve.

After all, the amount of harvest as of late was getting worrisome. It's dwindling and getting meager and meager.

It even forced the village elders to look for outside help, but to no avail. Adding coal to the fire, the young dimwits don’t even understand our predicament. Useless romance and heroes had poisoned their minds.

They won’t even care about the tilling and farming preparations for the next winter. If you beat them up, they’ll do their work for a few days. Then they would return to their usual ways. Ah, so tiring!

It's good that the old chief had finally banned those stupid bards!

Thinking about such things gives me a big headache. I’m bad at thinking I’d rather hunt. I’ll leave the thinking matters to the old chief and the others.

The village of Lother was still young as compared to its counterparts in the other regions with seventy to a hundred years of history. Thirty years ago this place was a little hamlet roughly prepared by young soldiers.

A place of rest during the monster subjugation of the great forest of wilderness.

My old father was part of that army. He still liked to wear his old shabby army uniform from time to time. He loved to tell thrilling stories to those who were not born yet.

If it’s children, he’ll tell heroic stories.

If it’s a young man or a young lady, he’ll tell stories of tragedies during the campaign.

Even the old man gets irritated by the young one's slothfulness. He loved to scare them until some wets their pants.

What’s going in the old man’s mind? I don't know!

My old man loved teasing the young ones. He also tends to reminiscence his experiences in the army.

I once heard from him that this village was only a little hamlet before. A small infantry camp thirty years ago. An abode for the soldiers since monster suppression missions takes a lot of time.

If things go south, it would even take a few years to complete. The commander knew his soldiers would need a place to rest. Something more than makeshift camp. The soldiers need homes, a temporary shelter for their tired minds and bodies.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

My old man always told us that the commander was a kind man. The commander also wished to improve the soldiers’ lives. After all, most of the soldiers were young men.

The commander knew his soldiers were second, third, and fourth sons. Individuals that wouldn’t inherit any of their parents’ properties. They couldn’t even be married off like young girls, troubling their poor households.

Instead, they would only add expenses and problems to their families. Their families would force them to become independent. Once the firstborn son inherits the house, they must leave the house.

Their families would throw them away in the street. Leaving them with nothing aside from a few clothes and coins.

Some could find a job, but the majority would have nowhere to go. They would travel from one place to another until they find a good job. Many would become adventurers or soldiers, despite knowing its danger.

Being a soldier. Being an adventurer. These professions were the last resorts since it has the highest death casualties.

One of them was my old father. He said that his family wasn’t rich, so they threw him out of the house. After his parents died, his eldest brother inherited the house.

Since they couldn’t stay, most of the young men forced themselves to apply in the army. Enlisting themselves during mass conscription for monster subjugations or wars.

Despite the high possibility of death, if you’re hungry and unskilled... You're on your way to the army. At least, they would not starve and would have some savings for themselves.

My father told us that the commander pitied them. Thus, he built this little camp. At least to let the young guys have a place to settle in after this monster subjugation. He knew that most of his soldiers had no place to go back to at all.

In one of my old man's rumbling, I heard that the subjugation took longer than the initial estimates. The tenacious nature of monsters in the forest gave them a headache. According to my old man, the peddlers and merchants smelled the sweet scent of profit.

This was one reason the village came into existence.

The peddlers and merchants knew the army would need more rations. They were like bees who caught the scent of flowers.

The merchants opened their shops; they hoped to get monster materials to sell in the capital. They also brought their coins along with their families. They gambled everything for a chance to get big transactions.

Some succeeded while many lost their capitals. It forced them to stay in the army camp and lived there to at least recover a few coins to start another venture. After all, the materials from powerful monsters were a common ingredient used to create potions, medicines, and even weapons.

As the subjugation of the forest of wilderness progressed, my ol’ man lamented the deaths. The death tolls increased because of the fierce battles with the monsters. There were even a lot of cases reported about undead appearing in the forest because of the improper burial of the dead.

Seeing their friends becoming undead damaged the morale of the tired soldiers.

It even forced the commander to write a letter of request to the King and the Priestess much to his annoyance. He requested a dispatch of clergies to deal with the dead and a few gold coins to build a new church. It was also to bless the souls of the deceased, preventing them from becoming undead.

The request of the commander had caused the little hamlet to become a village. The place finally had a little market, a good number of soldiers that wished to live here, and a brand new chapel.

At the end of the subjugation, a lot of merchants left. The makeshift camp became a village called Lother. They coined the village name from the kind, noble commander, General Lother Hayes Mills.

My old man’s stories are really interesting to hear. It made me want to meet the commander.

…

I ran back to the village with a deer on my back and the fowl tied at my sides. I thought I should at least look at the new lord. It would trouble if I don’t know his face. I wonder if he’s an old man like the village chief and my father.

“Oh! Higgs, you caught a big one today. Eh, ain’t that a dear! Oops, my drool. Damn! Yar’ really in luck today,” It was a friend of mine. An old man with a shepherd’s cane. He was herding some animals to graze in the pasture.

“Haha! Ol’ Gil, it was a good hunt. It seemed like the dear was accidentally separated from its herd. Makin' it easy to hunt,” I answered, behind my back was the dead deer, I raised the sides of my mouth in pride. “How about it ya’ want some?”

“Eh, really? Yal’ give me some? The shepherd answered, his eyes full of caution and interest. “What’s the take?”

“Well, I’ll want some of yar’ goat’s milk and cheese in exchange.” I scratched my cheeks. “Ya’ see, my wife and the little guy in my house loves milk. And I love yar’ cheese. It’s delicious.”

“I knew it! Yar aiming for my goods! But fine! Ya’ really know my stuff, Higgs.” The shepherd said as he touched his bald head. “But I’ll only have a little cheese left, about the size of a fist. Is that alright?”

Hearing the old shepherd agreeing with the barter offer, I grinned and whistled like a child. The old man’s goat cheese was one of my favorite foods even when I was still a child. Well, the little boy in my home also loved it.

“Alright!” I almost drooled as I answer. The cheese would definitely go well with this meat. “I’ll go to yar’ house later after I butcher the deer. Prepare yar’ cheese alright! Hahaha.”

“Suit yar’ self,” the old shepherd smiled, his eyes still glued at the deer meat. “See ya’ later, I gotta move to another place now.”

I waltzed towards the village until I reached the plaza. There were a lot of villagers in the plaza today. Both old people and the lazy younguns’ gathered around. Their curious eyes fixed at the village’s main road.

Everyone was excited. The new lord would arrive through this road. I could hear the buzzing gossips about the new lord. I couldn’t help but scratch my ears.

I’d rather bring this deer back to the butcher first than listen to gossips. I hate chinwags, their murmurs sounded like flies to my ears. I even get an urged to slap them dead. They were so annoying.

The forest was much more peaceful as compared to this place. They were whispering with each other yet their voices were loud enough for everyone to hear. It’s so irritating.

I guess I can at least wait for a little more. Maybe until I see the shadow of the new lord. I trained my eyes to see him from afar. Well, it would give me a few stories to tell the kid later. After that, I’ll go to Butcher Gan and asked for his help.

Well, we must partner excellent food with marvelous stories.