Chapter 89: Corrupted Greatsword Warrior

"She is..."

Phield noticed the woman who had been tortured beyond recognition. She was already on the verge of death.

She had once been Paul’s lover—the very person who had recommended Paul to Phield back then.

"Looks like my dear brother has already sent people to investigate the missing caravan."

Still, Phield hadn’t expected her to be this tight-lipped. She hadn’t revealed anything about recommending Paul. Who knew what she was holding on to—perhaps everyone carried something they refused to betray.

"Die! You dare lose focus on the battlefield? You’re looking down on me too much!" After silently chanting a complicated incantation, the red-robed mage roared, "Second-tier magic—Flame Impact!"

Surging waves of fire burst from the mage’s palms, the scorching heat igniting the surrounding grass and trees in an instant.

"Awooo!"

Drakewolf stepped in front of Phield without hesitation, casually blocking the Flame Impact. The raging fire magic failed to leave even the slightest mark on Drakewolf’s scales.

"How is that possible?! Impossible!" Shock filled the red-robed mage’s eyes. This was second-tier magic—more than enough to kill a first-tier knight—yet it had been stopped by a giant wolf that showed no magical fluctuations at all.

A terrifying thought flashed through his mind. "Could it be... a Divine Chosen...? No, impossible!"

In truth, his guess wasn’t wrong.

It looked like he was fighting Phield, but in reality, he was facing two Divine Chosen at once.

"You really deserve to die. Still throwing spells? Asking for a beating."

Phield was furious. The chains of the Greatsword of Gluttony shot out, binding the mage instantly. Phield didn’t even bother with his sword—he rushed forward and unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks.

"Still planning to use human bombs?!"

"Still trying to kill me?!"

"Talk! Say something!"

"Can’t speak? Are you mute now?!"

The mage was pinned to the ground as Phield beat him relentlessly.

"Don’t just stand there—help me! Aaaah!"

Seeing the once-arrogant mage being utterly crushed like a bullied child, the surrounding mercenaries had no intention of helping. Instead, they turned and fled.

"Who sent you? Any accomplices?" Phield grabbed the mage by the collar. His face was already swollen beyond recognition.

The mage mumbled, "I’ll talk if you let me go... but you have to swear it."

Phield pulled open the mage’s robe and, sure enough, saw a simplified Divine Chosen mark.

Without a doubt, he was a member of the Divine Guard—specifically the guard created by his brother’s Divine Chosen.

"You? Negotiate with me? Go negotiate with God instead."

With a snap of his fingers, the chains tightened and crushed the mage’s head. Crimson life energy flowed into the greatsword.

Bloodhand glanced back, saw the scene, and nearly wet himself as he ran even faster.

Those earlier words—"Just useless trash, worth only 500 gold coins"—echoed in his mind. If the situation weren’t so desperate, he would’ve rushed back just to vent his rage on the mage’s corpse.

"Phield, don’t kill them all," Rosalia’s voice reminded him softly by his ear.

Phield frowned. "Why?"

"The filthy ones are perfect for infection into corrupted beings. They can become our Divine Guard."

The Divine Guard was a faction created by Divine Chosen; Florine also commanded one.

"Hmm... got carried away killing. Almost forgot."

Like Ashina, Rosalia could provide Divine Guard units as well—she just lacked army buffs.

Phield opened the Enfeoffment tab on his lord panel.

Enfeoffment: Giant Wolf Cavalry — Advance fifty wolf riders to Tier-1 (provided by Ashina)

Corrupted Greatsword Warrior — Corrupt fifty sinners into Tier-1 (provided by Rosalia)

Phield had brought Rosalia along this time—and even prepared potions—specifically to obtain Divine Guard. Originally, he had planned to purchase a batch of death-row prisoners.

Blood-red threads surged as Rosalia emerged from the greatsword, licking her lips happily. "Second-tier mages taste wonderful. I’m very satisfied."

"How exactly does the enfeoffment work?" Phield asked.

"I need Tier-1 potions—any kind will do. Go fetch them for me. I’ll capture the mercenaries first. Oh, and bring some cloaks back, or they’ll scare the civilians."

With that, Rosalia chased after the fleeing mercenaries. Ignoring their terrified screams, she bound them with chains.

With Drakewolf around, retrieving the potions only took Phield a few minutes.

By the time he returned, Rosalia had already captured them all. She selected the fifty strongest, hanging them from trees as she watched their struggles and pleas with interest.

"Le-let me go! I’ll kill you if you don’t!"

"I’ve never done anything wrong!"

"Help!"

"Hehe, don’t struggle uselessly. Becoming corrupted beings is a gift to you," Rosalia said as her Divine Chosen mark emitted a terrifying glow. The Greatsword of Gluttony released countless blood threads, forming writhing corrupted hearts.

Phield inhaled sharply. "Don’t tell me..."

The next moment, under Rosalia’s control, the blood threads opened the mercenaries’ bodies and inserted the corrupted hearts, followed by Tier-1 potions.

For reasons unknown, the mercenaries remained conscious the entire time, their screams echoing through the night and waking nearby villagers.

"Dear heavens... is that a demon?"

The villagers trembled in fear.

Soon, the mercenaries stopped moving. Their sanity vanished, their eyes turning the gray-white of corrupted beings, leaving only violent killing intent.

"Enfeoffment!"

Phield activated his lord skill.

Simplified marks of the Corrupted Goddess appeared on the mercenaries’ right hands. In an instant, fifty Tier-1 auras erupted—each carrying terrifying corrupted magic.

"This is insane. Soldiers with magic can actually be mass-produced." Even knowing the ability beforehand, Phield was stunned. "No wonder Rosalia said magic is only for basic self-defense—it’s not that important."

Who could withstand an army of mass-produced magic soldiers?

"Enfeoffment complete. Their combat skills are identical. Physical ability may vary, but their combat power won’t differ much. They obey only you and me." Rosalia placed her hands on her hips. "Limit: fifty. Class: Greatsword Infantry. Just give them heavy armor and greatswords, and they’ll start cutting people down."

Phield puffed up with pride as well. The military strength of Nightfall Domain was finally growing.

"Put on cloaks. Hide in the forest."

Noticing patrolling soldiers approaching, Phield immediately ordered them to conceal themselves.

Fifty corrupted warriors that looked like walking nightmares would definitely terrify ordinary soldiers.

Rosalia pointed at the woman lying on the ground. "Oh, right. She’s been dead for quite a while. That mage didn’t just abuse her—he used body-torture magic too. Too late to save her."

"...Sigh."

Phield let out a heavy breath. This world was cruel—weakness itself was a sin.

"Dig a grave and bury her. Also, have the guards find her family and send them some gold."

"Rest in peace. I’ll avenge you." Phield swore coldly. He would absolutely hang his brother’s Divine Chosen up and beat him senseless—right in front of his brother.

After everything was handled, Phield leapt onto the giant wolf and disappeared into the night.

The next day, Phield received a letter of condolence from Simon.

Simon expressed deep regret over the attack and informed him that the upcoming underground ball had been postponed until after the war due to the rebellion.

"Seems Simon even canceled the ball for the sake of the Nibelungen family’s reputation. Besides, I never said I was attending, did I?"

"Let’s go. We’re recruiting soldiers—and buying supplies."

Phield burned the letter to ashes over a candle stand, then stood up and allowed the maid Nina to help adjust his attire.

"Recruiting? Aren’t we using Nightfall Domain’s soldiers?" Ashina sat up from the bed, yawning as she tidied her messy hair. A satisfied smile appeared on her face, as if recalling the madness of the previous night.

Phield replied mysteriously, "Yes—and no."

Sending his hard-earned elite troops into the meat grinder of a frontline battle had never been his plan. Phield knew that fighting head-on on the main battlefield offered little profit and far too much risk.

As war broke out, the number of slaves surged dramatically. The slave market in Maple Leaf Territory was already overflowing.

Phield bought eight hundred slaves in one go—five hundred men and three hundred women—for only one hundred and thirty gold coins, including one hundred Demei-humans. Their quality was far better than the last batch—strong, newly captured slaves.

Now, human lives were cheaper than livestock.

Buying slaves was easy.

The real challenge was sending them back to Nightfall Domain—and keeping them alive.

However, this time he had two Divine Chosen and fifty greatsword warriors at his side, and Phield’s confidence grew considerably.

Next, Phield purchased all the purification potions and mist-dispelling lamps available, along with three months’ worth of rations for a thousand people, spending a total of 3,422 gold coins.

Although slave prices had dropped, food prices had risen several times over, making Phield’s heart ache.

Then came something even more painful.

Fifty full sets of Tier-1 refined heavy armor and sixty heavy Tier-1 two-handed greatswords cost a staggering 15,000 gold coins, nearly making Phield’s jaw drop. Even this was a discounted price he barely secured after a long negotiation with the border garrison commander.

Every year, the Empire supplied the frontier with large quantities of high-quality weapons. The fortress commander would secretly embezzle a portion and sell them for profit.

If the commander hadn’t happened to be "processing damaged equipment," Phield would never have obtained this batch of elite gear.

No wonder heavy infantry and cavalry were always treated like trump cards—the sheer rate at which they burned through money was unbearable even for Phield.

Leather armor and spears were far cheaper. Phield spent one thousand gold coins to purchase two hundred sets.

After completing all of this, Phield had 448 gold coins remaining.

....

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