Hearing Norton's proposition, the smuggler named Harold hesitated. Trading with vampires was one thing, but becoming a lackey was entirely another. The former could be done by those with courage, but the latter felt like betraying all of humanity—a heavy burden on his conscience.

Observing Harold's face, which wavered between fear, hesitation, and disappointment, Norton quickly understood the man's dilemma. With a slight smirk, he subtly cast a mild hypnotic spell on him and said in a mocking tone:

"If you foresaw this outcome today, what did you do before? Don't tell me you were unaware of what happened to the corpses and bones you dealt with. Selling the corpses of your fellow humans to be turned into undead by our enemies is a grave sin. You have cut off your own escape routes. Have you ever considered the punishments that await you in Morr's underworld? Burning, boiling, dismemberment, being drawn and quartered... and for eternity. Your soul would be trapped in endless agony, unable to escape. Eternity, yes, do you even understand what eternity means?"

"I... I was just... doing some small business... No, no..."

Harold stammered, collapsing from his seat in terror. He had heard tales of the afterlife's punishments, but being in his prime, he had never given it much thought. In his subconscious, death was a distant concern, something to worry about decades later. Better to focus on the present than on what comes then.

However, this distant fear was suddenly laid bare by this boy, word by word, vividly painting it before him. The once remote problem had become an immediate horror, and he could not help but be afraid.

To be fair, as a smuggler, Harold had weathered countless storms and wasn't particularly afraid of death. But eternal torment after death—that he could not bear...

"You don't believe me? How about I kill you now and let you see Hell for yourself?" Norton chuckled as he drew a short sword and lightly placed it against Harold's neck.

"No! Please, don't—don't do that! I beg you! Please don't do it!"

Harold pleaded, crawling backward frantically. He was so terrified that he could barely think straight.

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Norton, satisfied with his reaction, sheathed his sword and continued, "So, what does it matter if I spare you? This world is full of dangers and accidents. Even if you escape illness or disaster, you'll still die of old age in a few decades. It's inevitable, unless..."

At this point, Harold's face turned ashen with despair, but the moment he heard "unless," his eyes lit up with frenzied hope. He crawled to Norton's feet, clinging to his legs and crying out:

"I'm willing to serve you, my count—no, master! Master! I'll do anything for you! Just tell me how to escape the punishment after death, and I'll do anything!"

Norton kicked him away, looking down at him disdainfully like a bug. Yet Harold remained oblivious, crawling back to him—not daring to cling again but rather gazing at Norton imploringly, trembling hands outstretched in supplication. He was the picture of pitiful.

With a cold huff, Norton continued, "Of course, I have a way. We vampires research how to snatch souls from Morr, the god of death. We can rescue souls from Hell and even transform the living into semi-undead, granting them eternal life. Imagine having the immortality of an undead while freely enjoying life's pleasures as if you were alive... Wouldn't that make you the luckiest person in the world?"

Harold's eyes sparkled with greed as Norton spoke. Alongside fear and fervor, greed now simmered within, all visible to Norton, assuring him of his success.

Pleased, Norton nodded and added, "Of course, this privilege is reserved for worthy individuals."

Harold nodded eagerly, "I understand—I understand! I'll do anything for you! My loyalty to you is absolute! My devotion is absolute!"

"Very well, this is what you must do..." Norton instructed Harold to develop a network of spies across the Border Princes, gather intelligence, and ensure a steady supply of resources needed by Sylvania. In return, Norton promised to support Harold's business and help expand it, ensuring he served Norton well.

After finalizing these arrangements, Norton was quite satisfied, finding Harold now less distasteful—elevated from the status of a bug to that of a dog.

Over time, Norton repeated the process, recruiting several more "dogs" and assigning them tasks. He controlled them with the dread of eternal punishment and the lure of addictive magical substances. In two years, he had established an intelligence network throughout the Border Princes.

Though the Old Continent had its share of technological and magical innovations, its political systems and general living standards remained medieval. Many nations, including Sylvania, maintained rudimentary espionage practices. While vampires living temporarily among humans sometimes acted as spies, their freedom of movement was heavily restrained by humans' isolationist nature, religious fanaticism, and the constant vigilance of witch hunters.

Thus, Norotn's network of human informants filled gaps that vampire spies couldn't due to their limited numbers and capacity.