Chapter 42: The Mysterious Watcher

"Why are you all staring at me? My gods—are you really being picky about beef? We’re all servants, not nobles. Even if it looks strange, if the lord told you to eat literal dung, you’d still have to eat it."

Meg immediately scooped up a piece of beef with her spoon and, with the resolve of someone marching to their death, put it into her mouth.

The next moment—

Her taste buds were instantly conquered by the unique flavor. The beef had been carefully marinated, seared and fried to a crisp exterior and tender interior, every bite bursting with rich juices. The dry-pot cooking method greatly elevated the texture of the meat, while the vegetables absorbed the beef’s essence and returned it with their own fresh aroma.

Perfect. That apple purée, almond paste, stewed cured meat garbage? Utter trash.

No wonder the lord never liked eating.

Meg fell silent for a long moment, then forced out a pained expression. "By the Goddess... this is awful. I’ll go throw it away."

"Why throw it away? If it’s bad, give it to the slaves."

Nina narrowed her eyes, suspicion written all over her face. She reached out to grab some, but Meg dodged away.

"That’s not right. You’re hiding something!"

Everyone reacted instantly, rushing forward to snatch it. In no time, the small basin of dry-pot beef was completely wiped out—even the seasonings stuck to the plate were licked clean.

"So delicious." Nina licked her lips, clearly unsatisfied.

"As expected of the lord—he actually knows food this good exists."

"Of course. After all, our master is a noble."

Only the cook’s worldview shattered completely. He muttered to himself, "How is this possible? Why is it so good?"

Phield himself thought it was just average—at least not the flavor he was aiming for.

"Too much salt, the heat control wasn’t right either. And did you add sweet curry powder? It tastes strange," Phield said, dissatisfied. "Ashina, what do you think?"

Ashina’s mouth was stuffed full, so she couldn’t answer. She just gave Phield a thumbs-up.

"You glutton," Phield said lazily, taking a sip of tea.

He’d originally planned to rest for three days and properly relax, but by the second day he couldn’t sit still anymore. The domain produced nothing and was still in a dangerous zone—doing nothing made him anxious.

There were many matters in the territory, but none could be solved with just a few words. Phield decided to tackle the shortage of timber first.

After finishing his preparations, Phield opened his door—and ran straight into Ashina, bow on her back and firearm in hand.

She seemed to have just returned from outside, splattered with filthy blood. On the mini-map, a new patch of land without skull markers had appeared—clearly her handiwork.

"Good morning, my lord." Seeing Phield, the seriousness vanished from Ashina’s face. Smiling, she lifted her skirt and greeted him sweetly. "What do you need me to do today? I’m fully rested."

As she spoke, she pointed to her eyes.

Sure enough, the faint dark circles from before were gone. Her red wolf eyes looked lively and alluring.

Ashina had fought her way back from Maple Leaf City—four days and four nights of nonstop slaughter—and had only rested for a single day yesterday. Yet now she was brimming with energy, her eyes not even dry.

"Divine Chosen really do recover fast," Phield sighed. "Perfect timing—I’m planning to lead troops to reclaim the logging camp. I’ll need you to guard us."

"Yay! Doing things together with you is always fun," the girl said, flicking her tail. Then she seemed to remember something and frowned. "My lord, something felt off last night. In the latter half of the night—around three o’clock—something was watching the domain. I went out and searched the surrounding area several times, but found nothing. Still, I’m certain my senses weren’t wrong."

"No wonder you’re armed. Do you know what it was? It wasn’t goblins again, was it?" Phield immediately grasped the seriousness of the situation, stroking his chin in thought. "That wouldn’t make sense—goblins couldn’t escape your claws."

"It wasn’t goblins. I remember their scent. What I smelled last night was definitely a corrupted creature—but a new kind, one that could block my perception. The wind told me everything. That thing’s scent carried an extremely intense aura of slaughter and hostility."

Phield fell silent for a moment. "I understand. Go eat breakfast first. I’ll tell the patrols to be extra careful."

Ashina shook her head and, after some thought, said, "Mm... it’d be better to tighten the defensive perimeter. Patrol in groups of five, and equip them with horns."

She rarely offered opinions on military matters, and never spoke on internal affairs. She simply did whatever Phield told her to do. Someone like Ashina was exactly the type every lord admired.

And precisely because she didn’t voice opinions lightly, Phield took her thoughts especially seriously.

"So it’s dangerous to that extent..." Phield nodded solemnly. Ashina was someone who didn’t even blink when facing third-tier corrupted beings—anything that made her wary was definitely not benign.

"We’ll need to start a new round of recruitment. Our current defenses aren’t sufficient," Phield said, rubbing his temples. "Let Tate handle it. Hopefully there’s still timber left at the logging camp. With wooden walls, defense will be much easier."

"I will guard you with my life," Ashina vowed solemnly.

The logging camp lay east of the grand winery, at the boundary between the forest and the lake. This lake had once been a beautiful ribbon connecting the great estate to Starnight Lake. Now it was littered with bones—countless gray-white corrupted reeds and skeletal frames stood in the water, which had turned a murky gray-black.

To purify this lake would require tens of thousands of purification potions.

Along the way, besides writhing vines and scattered bones, the most common sight was tentacles—born from corrupted weeds. Phield was long used to them. The first time he encountered them, the grotesque scene had filled him with fear and revulsion. After seeing them enough times, however, the little tentacles on the ground just felt boring—almost a bit cute.

These tentacles weren’t like the ones in those lewd animes that grabbed women and made them give birth. They had no attack power and no strength—at most, they made it harder for carts and horses to move.

One of Phield’s daily amusements was poking the surrounding tentacles at random with his lance, watching them curl up into little balls like mimosa plants.

As they advanced, the river slowly entered the coverage of the mist-dispelling lamp. The logging camp on the opposite bank came faintly into view—massive buildings hidden in darkness, like a giant beast poised to devour people.

The guards had already spread out and engaged the corrupted corpses.

"Don’t make too much noise. The corpses have sharp hearing. Help me out."

Captain Ben lowered his voice and gave a quick instruction to the two guards beside him. He then bent low and moved swiftly forward, feeling his way behind a corrupted corpse that looked like a woman.

Pshk—

Ben gripped the middle of his halberd and, with a very small motion, thrust it into the corpse’s neck. The guard beside him immediately stepped forward, grabbed the corpse by the hair to stop it from screaming, and worked with Ben to tear the head clean off. Despite the grotesque scene, neither of them so much as frowned.