HTLCCBFT Chapter 2

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 2

Despite having mentally prepared himself the entire way, from the moment he actually set foot in the castle, Oliver’s endurance faced one challenge after another.

The servant’s casual remark about “the thief’s air-dried corpse” was only the beginning. The next unpleasant experience was a meal painstakingly prepared by a cook who was absolutely unwilling to lose her precious post as the “lord’s chef.”

The dark green pea soup exuded a heavy, uncomplimentary aroma of spices. Beside it, on a small silver platter, sat two pieces of incredibly hard white bread. The crust was as hard as stone, and he could only slice through it with great difficulty using the sharp, jewel-encrusted dagger gifted to him by the old king.

To bite into such hardness directly would be an ordeal that even a young man’s teeth could not withstand.

This meant he had to eat it by dipping it into that horrifying, appetite-killing pea soup.

Never mind Oliver, with his memories of modern society; even a slightly favored servant in the mansions of the royal capital’s nobles would disdain to eat such nightmarish food.

And yet, even white bread as difficult to swallow as this was something the people of Laina City dreamed of. What’s more, as a meal ‘specially supplied for the lord,’ it even included a shockingly large piece of cured meat, which the cook had prepared using every trick she knew!

For the people of this place, it was an almost unbelievable luxury.

So as not to provoke a long-winded speech of pity from the pained-looking Butler Fosse, Oliver stared at the food on the table in silence for a moment before pretending that nothing was amiss. Perfectly maintaining his aristocratic etiquette, he arduously finished the meal.

…Finally, he could bathe and return to his room to rest.

Unwilling to dwell on the details of his dinner, Oliver observed the castle’s interior structure as he was slowly led toward his bedroom by a servant.

Unlike the crudely made peasant dwellings of wood and straw, the castle was constructed from countless large limestone blocks, the gaps between them filled with lime mortar.

Compared to its grand and imposing exterior, the comfort of living inside could only be described as “far from ideal.”

The room chosen by successive lords to be their bedroom was naturally the one with the best light, the most space, and on the highest floor. Yet when Oliver finished his bath and lay down on the bed, upon which Fosse had personally directed servants to lay layer upon layer of clean, soft bedding, he could still immediately feel the pervasive, damp chill in the room.

He couldn’t help but sigh.

If even the lord’s living conditions were this unbearable, he truly couldn’t imagine what kind of lives the people below were living.

He had originally thought he would have trouble falling asleep, but to his surprise, this body, long accustomed to a pampered life, was not the least bit picky about its environment.

Almost the instant he stopped his racing thoughts and truly closed his eyes, he fell easily into a deep, sound sleep.

When his biological clock woke him, sparse, hazy light was already shining in from the window. At the same time, the sound of a bell tolling drifted in from afar.

In the royal capital, a mechanical clock was a luxury that only the nobility could afford, let alone in a poor and remote place like Laina City, where not even the lord could enjoy the privilege of a timepiece.

The largest and only timekeeping device in the entire city of Laina was that bell tower, mottled and weathered by wind, frost, rain, and snow.The first toll of the bell symbolized the arrival of dawn, signaling that the people of the domain must put down their tasks and head to the fields to begin their labor.

Of course, unless they held a specific duty in the court, the nobles, who did not toil, were generally not required to follow the bell’s schedule.

Whether they woke at noon, dined in their bedrooms or the dining hall, took knights and hounds to hunt in the forest, or amused themselves at a brothel—it was all as they pleased.

This, of course, did not include Oliver.

Although he didn’t know exactly how long he had slept, he felt inexplicably invigorated upon waking.

So, before the steward, Fosse, came to check on him, he went to the window. Taking advantage of the castle’s four-story height, he looked down upon his subjects as they entered the fields with their farm tools to begin their work.

The first thing that caught Oliver’s attention was not their pale, gaunt bodies, nor their thin clothes, but their age.

They all had uniformly young, tender faces. Middle-aged people were a rare sight, let alone “old men” like Fosse, who was over forty.

For a lord who only wished to exploit his people for his own luxury and pleasure, having very few of the middle-aged and elderly, who were often seen as a burden, was undoubtedly a good thing. After all, only a strong workforce could bring greater benefits to those at the top.

Oliver frowned, his heart sinking.

He knew, of course, what this meant—it meant the living conditions in and around Laina City were so harsh that the common people simply didn’t live long enough to grow old.

“Fosse,” Oliver said suddenly after breakfast, looking up at the steward who stood ramrod straight to one side, observing the strictest of noble etiquette. “How much grain is left in the granary?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he was unfamiliar with the local units of measurement and naturally rephrased, “What I mean is, without affecting the summer planting, how long would the grain last if everyone were to eat two full meals a day?”

Hearing his noble master’s kind yet naive words, a fond smile unconsciously appeared on Fosse’s face. He replied in a gentle voice, “Your Grace, please rest assured. As long as the autumn harvest goes smoothly, we will have enough to last the winter.”

It seemed the situation was better than he had imagined.

Oliver nodded slightly. Just as he was about to ask his next question, a point he had almost overlooked flashed through his mind.

No, that’s not right.

He looked at Fosse again and tried asking once more, “And if we include the serfs?”

The steady, dignified steward’s smile did not waver, his tone remaining as even as before. “My benevolent Grace, why should those lowly slaves be worthy of your concern? Just as filthy insects are born to eat decaying leaves, they too will crawl through the forests with their beast-like, keen sense of smell before winter arrives and find enough food for themselves.”

Just as I thought.

Oliver sighed inwardly.

To those who stood on high, both slaves and freemen were lowly beings. But the latter at least possessed legal personhood, while the former were simply worthless objects, belonging completely to their masters from their lives down to their descendants.

They would likely never have a formal name in their entire lives, and they were certainly not worthy of being recorded in the registry. Laina City had a registered population of a mere one thousand people, so the tax revenue it generated was naturally pitifully low. This was why the tax collectors dispatched by the crown wouldn’t even deign to visit.

But when he had just looked down from his bedroom window, even though it was impossible to see the entire territory, he knew very well that there were definitely more than a thousand people below—perhaps even ten times that number.

“Fosse,” Oliver said calmly, his eyelids slightly lowered. “Answer my question.”

Given the era they lived in, he was certainly not naive enough to try and change his loyal servant’s ingrained mindset.

It was just that after merging with his own memories, he knew very well that Fosse would obey him unconditionally.

—And that was indeed the case.

Hearing the seriousness and slight displeasure in Oliver’s tone, the indulgence and affection on Fosse’s face instantly transformed into a hint of panic.

Without hesitation, he bent his right knee and knelt on the cold, hard floor, gazing earnestly at the beautiful angel who seemed to have suddenly raised a holy sword and was frowning at an irreverent believer. “May the gods protect you, my master. Please forgive your loyal servant’s discourtesy.”

He then held nothing back, laying out all the information he knew.

The number of freemen belonging to Laina City was only twelve hundred, but the number of serfs was as high as eight thousand—most of them were unlucky freemen who, due to successive years of famine, could not afford the high taxes and were forced to sell their property, eventually losing even their status.

Becoming a serf directly under a lord, while meaning a complete loss of freedom, at least exempted them from all future taxes and, provided the lord was kind-hearted, offered them a small measure of protection.

Serfs had no land of their own. Even if they toiled day and night, they would struggle to earn enough rations to feed their families when the harvest was poor—the share they could keep, the portion they could truly call their own, was pitifully small.

And this was during the relatively food-abundant spring and summer.

Whenever the cold winter arrived, it was a brutal purgatory. Freemen could at least warm themselves with braziers lit by fallen branches they had gathered. But serfs could not afford the fine for gathering firewood at all and could only huddle together, shivering, praying to ethereal deities that when they woke up the next day, no family member would have been claimed by the cruel cold.

Most of the time, however, their prayers went unanswered—one could tell whether their prayers were effective simply by looking at the shockingly young age of the serfs.

After explaining all this, Fosse felt not a shred of pity for the serfs’ miserable plight. He only gazed intently at the most important highness in his life, nervously begging for forgiveness.

The one he cared about, even more than the serfs, was the highness he served.

He was merciful yet majestic, beautiful and noble, the Angel Duke most valued by His Majesty, and a peerless treasure bestowed upon the world by the gods.

“I understand.”

Oliver’s mind was entirely focused on the severe test of food shortages, and he didn’t notice Fosse’s thoughts.

He looked at the game skill panel, currently grayed out and visible only to him, and at the basic tools in his game inventory…

After a period of internal struggle, Oliver finally made up his mind. Although he didn’t know how many he could save, he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, watching those sallow and emaciated slaves die like a truly heartless lord.

“I have absolute faith in your loyalty, Fosse.”

Seeing the ecstatic expression on Fosse’s face, Oliver gave a resigned smile.

He had now thoroughly confirmed what “method of use” would best maximize this loyal servant’s abilities for a righteous cause.

After a moment of thought, under Fosse’s eager and expectant gaze, Oliver spoke directly, “Next, I need you to do a few things for me.”

“These tasks are extremely important. Of all the people by my side, you are the only one I trust to handle them properly…”