NEC Chapter 92: The Steward, the Minotaur, and the Halfling

On the twelfth day of December, the increasingly cold north wind lashed at this slowly advancing convoy.

This was Chen Mo's journey as the prospective lord of Vast Sea Territory, traveling to assume his official duties.

Looking at the time, they were destined to ring in the new year on the road, crossing the boundary between the Resting Moon Dynasty's Year of Thunder and Year of Storm.

"However, given the current situation, I fear the thunder has not yet departed, but the storm has already arrived!"

The one speaking so melancholically was the new steward recommended to Chen Mo by Cloudmist Domain's old clerk.

This fellow was named Herlan, a professional steward.

This was a profession on the Starry Continent specifically serving the nobility. Most of them emerged from noble household servants, selected from childhood for their quick minds and sharp reflexes, then subjected to a complete set of nobility-related knowledge training that lasted twenty years.

This was roughly equivalent to Blue Star's combined master's and doctoral programs.

And these twenty years were sufficient to cultivate them into living encyclopedias of noble circles.

They were not only proficient in the complete, tens of thousands of pages of strict noble etiquette, but most of them also had to take elective courses in the languages, scripts, and customs of elves, beastmen, dwarves, or gnomes, serving as diplomatic protocol officers for their master's household.

They specialized in noble estate management and the operation of servant hierarchies. Under a head steward's command, there were usually more than a dozen different levels of minor stewards responsible for specific affairs, and they also had to manage the heads of various positions: head steward, head maid, head chef, head guard, head groom, head gardener, and so forth.

They were responsible for arranging daily schedules and study plans for all members of the master's family, collaborating with financial personnel to create budgets and supervise daily expenses, organizing various family banquets, hunting feasts, balls, and receptions, and when necessary, taking on the heavy burden of family crisis management during special periods.

The elite among professional stewards went even further. They knew continental history like the back of their hand, could remember up to thousands of existing or extinct noble families, knight orders, and magic academies' coats of arms, mottos, historical grudges, important members, and even marriage relationships as complex as an abyssal demon spider's web...

Furthermore, although most of them were neither knights nor mages, they possessed deep understanding of theoretical knowledge about various professionals, mastered the basic principles of most protective, warning, temperature control, and lighting magical arrays, were well-versed in energy node positions and daily maintenance requirements, and knew the charging methods and usage taboos of standard magical items and enchanted equipment like the back of their hand...

On Herlan's first day, he immediately pointed out that at least two of the magical materials Chen Mo had personally selected were insufficient in age and quality, which would affect his meditation effectiveness.

So, what kind of price did such a steward quote Chen Mo?

Very high, comparable to the annual stipend of a count's legitimate heir.

Honestly, if not for the old clerk's recommendation and guarantee, and his own need for reputation laundering, Herlan would never have come under Chen Mo's command, even though he was already quite desperate. Therefore, he quoted an astronomical figure.

The tides of the noble world never ceased. There were always new nobles rising and old families falling.

The reason for Herlan's downfall was that his previous noble employer had suffered a crushing defeat in political struggles, with nine generations wiped out.

Although professional stewards had extremely close relationships with their masters, they had no blood relations after all. Whether it was executing nine generations or ten, it didn't extend to the steward.

However, there were always aftershocks. At the very least, no one dared hire Herlan in the short term.

The surface reason was that his former master's family had died out, carrying somewhat ominous implications.

The substantial concern was whether the powerful figure who had won the struggle might direct his anger toward those who sheltered the "remnants." There was no need to offend a superior for the sake of a subordinate!

Therefore, Herlan was destined to have a recuperation period, which could usually only be passed in two ways.

One was relying on time, waiting three to five years until the victor calmed down or simply forgot, and the matter would essentially pass.

Alternatively, he could find a bold lord to work for temporarily. If nothing adverse happened, Herlan would naturally be cleared of suspicion.

This was the core reason why Herlan was willing to accept Chen Mo's employment but unwilling to accept long-term employment.

Essentially, he still hoped to serve a noble family with heritage and refinement within the Emerald Duchy or even the higher-level Resting Moon Dynasty, rather than go eat sand at the Saltwater Flats.

However, the reality of being unemployed for a long time with several mouths to feed at home forced him to bend his back.

Regarding this point, neither the old clerk nor Herlan concealed anything. On the day of Chen Mo's interview, they openly explained the situation to Chen Mo.

Thus came this one-year service contract.

It had to be admitted that the professional steward, especially Herlan who had once served as head steward for a count-level family, had impeccable standards.

After brief communication with Chen Mo, he quickly took over organizing the traveling team, planning routes, arranging personnel, purchasing supplies, allocating vehicles... He barely let Chen Mo worry about anything and completed all travel preparations in just a day and a half.

As soon as Chen Mo received the approval documents for the pioneering knight territory, the convoy immediately departed with seamless coordination.

The distant sporadic warfare had nothing to do with this convoy. They traveled through states and prefectures, quickly leaving Cloudmist Domain's borders and were about to enter the most difficult wilderness regions.

As the sun set in the west, it was time to make camp, rest, and prepare dinner.

The warriors busily drove stakes, pitched tents, collected firewood, settled pack animals. Herlan stood in the middle of the site with furrowed brows and crossed arms, occasionally issuing one or two angry rebukes.

"Lead that pack animal farther away, put a bridle on it, don't let its calls pollute Lord's ears!"

"Lynn, control your men. If I see them relieving themselves in sight again, I'll cut off their things to feed the wild dogs!"

"Where's that damned cook? Time to get to work! Dinner for Lord and Master Downs needs to be prepared early. Don't let me see undercooked meals again."

Chen Mo poked his head out of the carriage window and beckoned.

Herlan immediately restrained the displeasure on his face, straightened his already impeccable collar, carefully brushed dust from his trouser cuffs, then bowed and entered the lord's large carriage.

The carriage interior was filled with faint woody and leather scents. A comfortable floor couch was placed at the main seat in the rear, with two maidservants standing quietly with lowered heads on either side, this was Herlan's insisted "noble dignity" configuration.

Chen Mo originally didn't want maidservants, but Herlan firmly stated that other money might be saved, but this money related to noble dignity could not be spared.

"Once on the territory, to retain the people, they must see the lord's majesty."

Well, this hit Chen Mo's weak spot.

Where to get people for Vast Sea Territory was the main management challenge Chen Mo currently faced.

Calling Herlan over was also to confirm this issue again.

Chen Mo started with a random topic, "The halfling cook you hired is already quite good. Yesterday I was rushing to meditate, so I urged them before they finished. It wasn't really their fault."

Herlan sat upright with a serious expression, "Lord, you should not make excuses for these servants' problems. The halflings' task is to provide suitable food for the lord, which naturally includes suitable timing."

"If they cannot match the lord's schedule, they should prepare in advance."

"In any case, there are only servants who make mistakes, never lords who make errors. I implore you to maintain lordly dignity!"

Chen Mo sighed and returned to the main topic.

"Regarding recruitment, do you have any good news to report?"

Herlan bent slightly at the waist, performed an impeccable "audience salute," and began answering, "Lord, I'm afraid I must disappoint you."

"As you know, there are destitute commoners everywhere in this world. As long as you give them a piece of land where they can grow food, no matter how barren, they will swarm around your feet like ants chasing scent."

"If even commoners cannot be retained on ownerless land, either there are powerful magical beasts on the land, or that place simply cannot produce resources sufficient for survival."

"Uh... Vast Sea Territory is just such a rotten place. Apart from shifting sand, there's only hardened alkaline soil. Even the most tenacious thornbark trees can only survive sporadically. People simply cannot survive there."

"Therefore, no matter how many promises are made, those commoners find it hard to believe."

"As you surely know, the previous lord from many years ago used money and grain to deceive commoners to the territory, had them do hard labor, then slaughtered them for provisions. This really ruined that place's reputation terribly."

Chen Mo took a deep breath.

Having bad news repeated again and again certainly depressed his mood. This steward, outstanding in both level and ability, constantly referring to people as "commoners" gave him an indescribable feeling of discomfort.

After leaving the Emerald Duchy's lord's mansion, having lost the count's halo, he once again experienced that awful feeling.

A sense of alienation identical to what had followed him like a shadow in the fleeing squad after Paven's departure.

Without backing support, the people below him clearly showed only surface-level respect.

As a lord, he lacked renowned reputation and impressive background. All he seemed to have was money.

But money was difficult to use to buy heartfelt respect.

Sometimes Chen Mo didn't even want to activate his [Humanoid Creature Micro-expression Analyzer] because behind those compliments and forced smiles were more hidden mockery, ridicule, and cold observation.

In this team, whether it was Herlan the steward taking his money or old Silver Armor Lynn under his control, all had such tendencies to varying degrees.

The only one whose [Humanoid Creature Micro-expression Analyzer] gave no negative feedback was that minotaur Silver Armor Warrior.

Minotaur expressions couldn't be analyzed, after all.

After spending more time together, Chen Mo learned that this bull... this minotaur was genuinely simple-minded.

Because this fellow's reported name was long and hard to remember, containing a string of onomatopoeia that sounded roughly like "Moo-moo-lulu, Mighty Earth-shaker, Third Male of the Kakamimi Family of Skyscraping Ridge, Home at Thunder Bluff, Very Large Pastures, Very Long and Large Horns, Rock Hooves..."

Although it sounded mighty and heroic, Chen Mo always felt it had the humble feeling of a male laying out all his credentials during matchmaking.

Lord Chen simply called this fellow Simple Bull.

After feeding Simple Bull well, he was probably the only one in the entire convoy who truly and wholeheartedly regarded Chen Mo as "Lord" without reservation.

The others either planned to fleece him and run, or were waiting for the one-year contract to expire and go their separate ways. No one was optimistic about Vast Sea Territory's future, naturally no one was optimistic about his prospects as a non-orthodox noble lord either.

Chen Mo understood the principle of combining kindness with authority, but achieving such leadership for young him was still too difficult.

Just as the topic fell into awkward silence again, sudden exclamations erupted outside the carriage, followed by the halfling cook's characteristic shrill and frenzied roar, shattering the camp's tranquility.

When Chen Mo and Herlan reached the scene, they saw chaos around the temporarily built stove. The short halfling cook was jumping down from his special high stool, gesticulating wildly, so excited that his round belly was heaving violently.

"Oh, Lord, Master Steward, this isn't my fault, it's that bull, that stupid bull! Oh, by the gods of corn and hearth fire, it actually knocked over my seasonings!"

"Oh, it ruined everything, those were expensive purchases I made from Sky Blue Swallow City at great cost! Oh, twelve kinds, a full twelve kinds of seasonings!"

"This is a disaster! Oh, it's over. Without seasonings, I can't make anything tasty. Poor halfling, I might as well be dead!"

Halflings were only half the height of ordinary people. Before the minotaur warrior who stood two and a half meters tall, saying he could jump up and hit its knee was no exaggeration at all.

This fellow had to use that high stool to jump up and down, hoarsely denouncing the old bull.

Perhaps he was also transferring some of the frustration from being scolded by Steward Herlan.

Simple Bull stood helplessly to the side, his huge eyes showing some panic.

This period could be considered heavenly days for Simple Bull.

Although as a Silver Armor with strength that could be called top-tier among low-level mercenaries, it was impossible for a beastman to make a living in human society without being cheated and deceived.

He couldn't remember exactly how many times he'd been swindled. In any case, whenever he saved more than two silver coins, they would mysteriously disappear.

Sometimes it was accidentally damaging someone's expensive items, though who bumped into whom was always somewhat unclear. Sometimes it was inadvertently puncturing someone's precious tent, though the other party had enthusiastically called out, and Simple Bull felt like something had actively hooked onto his long horns...

The worst time was during a jungle battle when he released his War Stomp skill and accidentally stepped on another mercenary's foot.

That time was real, the other mercenary's foot was completely flattened, like a spread pancake.

After compensation, Simple Bull gnawed grass for more than half a year. All wages from mercenary work went to pay this disability compensation.

Although Simple Bull felt something wasn't right, regarding things like "rolling interest," Simple Bull couldn't understand or calculate at all and could only follow the group's arrangements.

If he hadn't been forcibly conscripted into the army later, he'd probably still be paying off debt now.

Being sold into this new, young lord's convoy, Simple Bull could eat his fill for the first time. He could eat vegetables if he wanted vegetables, meat if he wanted meat, eat until full, eat until stuffed. The lord would only smile and say, "Had enough? If not, have some more!"

Simple Bull was simple-minded but not stupid. He could feel the lord's unique fondness for him.

Therefore, he worked extra hard. Even though he was the strongest warrior in the convoy, when assigned dirty and exhausting work, he bore it without complaint.

This time, he was again assigned the hard labor of collecting firewood.

As a result, when he delivered a large bundle of chopped and prepared wood to the halfling chef's large stove, due to carelessness, the end of the firewood swept across the halfling's work table.

What followed was the halfling's hysterical shouting.

The mercenaries who heard the commotion quickly began gathering to watch. Simple Bull saw schadenfreude and mockery in their eyes.

Since everyone had become dependent slaves, seeing others suffer misfortune was also a kind of happiness.

Even Master Downs, who usually minded his own business, came over. In the distance, the lord and steward were also walking over.

Simple Bull felt like his world was about to collapse.

After only a few days of full meals, would he have to gnaw grass and pay debts again?

No wait, he was now a slave with no wages at all, not even qualified to pay debts.

Simple Bull felt an inexplicable panic gripping him.

Just like when he was very, very young, practicing War Stomp and accidentally collapsing the house, when half the tribe saw his father naked on top of his mother...

The terrifying look in his father's eyes, mixing fury, shame, and "you're dead, boy," brought him that bone-deep, uncontrollable trembling.

[NEXT CHAPTER]