Chapter 17: The First Battle of the Expansion! Pre-battle Encouragement!

The morning, ten days later.

The sky was barely bright, and the cold wind persisted.

Roko woke up from his crude wooden bed.

A faint, rustling sound came from outside.

Soon, Fula, wearing a maid's dress that had been washed until it was somewhat faded, walked in carrying a wooden tray.

On the tray sat a hard, black loaf of bread, a small piece of dried meat, and a bowl of steaming, bland meat broth.

This was his breakfast.

Although he had brought a fair amount of gold coins when he left the family, he had to support so many people and prepare for future wars; every penny had to be stretched.

Save where he could.

Fula placed the tray carefully on the table, keeping her head low, not daring to look at Roko.

"Master, please have your breakfast."

Her voice was thin, carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling.

Roko gave a hum, picked up the black bread, and took a bite with an expressionless face.

It was dry, hard, coarse, and difficult to swallow.

But he ate it calmly.

"You sit down and eat something too."

Roko said indifferently.

Fula's body stiffened abruptly, her little head drooping even lower, her hands nervously twisting the hem of her skirt.

"No, no need, Master, I'm not hungry."

Roko raised his eyes to look at her.

The little Maonv's cheeks turned red again, and even the tips of her ears were stained with a layer of pink.

He did not press her further and continued to finish his breakfast on his own.

The atmosphere was somewhat silent.

There was only the sound of chewing food and the occasional sound of training coming from outside.

After finishing breakfast, Roko wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up.

"Let's go."

"Yes, Master."

Fula immediately followed, walking half a step behind Roko, matching his pace.

The two walked one after the other toward the training ground at the other end of the camp.

Before they even got close, they could feel an aura completely different from ten days ago.

It was no longer lazy and chaotic, but had gained a touch of iron-bloodedness and solemnity.

On the training ground, hundreds of people were divided into several phalanxes, conducting the most basic drill maneuvers.

Although their steps could not yet be called uniform, compared to the initial stumbling, it was a world of difference.

Those serfs, bandits, and soldiers still had numbness and fear lingering in their eyes.

However, something else had been added.

It was a longing for freedom, a greed for land, and the sight of a glimmer of hope to change their fate.

Hart held a thick wooden stick, patrolling between the ranks with a cold expression.

Anyone whose movements were not up to standard or who was distracted would receive a merciless blow from the stick.

Roko stood on the sidelines, watching quietly.

【Name: Boke】

【Level: None (Physique slightly enhanced)】

【Status: Exhausted】

【Favorability: 10】

【Loyalty: 30】

【Name: Beide】

【Level: Knight Attendant Initial Stage】

【Status: Exhausted】

【Favorability: 15】

【Loyalty: 25】

Although their strength had only improved limitedly, their spirit and energy were completely different.

Under the dual stimulation of fear and benefit, these people were being quickly forged into a usable force.

The corners of Roko's mouth curled into an imperceptible arc.

The timing was just about right.

His gaze turned toward the direction of the river valley to the west.

Those Goblins and Chailangren who occupied the water sources and land...

It was time to make them pay the price.

Roko's figure gradually appeared before everyone's eyes.

He wore a simple black outfit, his posture upright, with no unnecessary expression on his face.

The morning's faint light outlined his young yet exceptionally steady profile.

The exquisite Flame Griffin Emblem on his chest seemed to be burning slowly under the gloomy sky.

His calm gaze swept slowly across the dense crowd below.

From the determined faces of the Knights to the numb eyes of the soldiers, and then to the greed of the bandits.

Finally, it landed on the group of somewhat cowering serfs.

Suddenly, the air seemed to freeze.

Only the crude flag made of animal skin and wooden poles at the edge of the camp, painted with a Flame Griffin, snapped in the cold wind.

"Ten days."

Roko spoke, his voice not loud, yet it clearly reached everyone's ears.

"You have shed sweat here, and even shed blood."

"I know that many of you hate me and resent me."

He paused, his gaze remaining calm.

"However, none of that is important."

"What is important is what you are going to do next."

His finger pointed toward the west, in the direction of the river valley that Hart had scouted, which was infested with a large number of monsters.

"There is fertile land there, enough to support you and your families."

"There is a clear river there, the source of life."

"There might even be the iron ore we desperately need, which can allow us to forge sharper weapons and build a sturdier home."

"But!"

Roko's voice rose abruptly.

"That land, those water sources, those mineral deposits."

"They are all currently occupied by a group of filthy and greedy Goblins and Chailangren."

"They infest that place like maggots, occupying what should belong to us."

A stir appeared in the crowd below.

A look of fear flashed in the eyes of some serfs.

They had long heard of the cruelty of Goblins and Chailangren.

Roko seemed not to see their reaction and continued.

"My promise remains valid."

"Today, everyone who picks up a weapon and marches with me."

"As long as you can kill one Goblin or one Chailangren."

"Whether you are a soldier, a bandit, or a slave, you will immediately gain your freedom!"

"You will become a free citizen of my, Roko Raymond's, territory!"

Freedom!

These two words exploded like a thunderclap among the crowd of serfs and bandits.

Many people suddenly raised their heads, an unbelievable light erupting in their eyes, their breathing becoming rapid.

"Kill two!"

Roko's voice sounded again.

"You will gain freedom, and, after we retake that land, you will receive a piece of land that truly belongs to you!"

Land!

To own one's own land!

This extravagant hope, which people who had been slaves for generations dared not even imagine, was right before their eyes at this moment!

The crowd was completely boiling, the previous fear and numbness replaced by greed and longing that had been ignited in an instant.

"For those who kill three or more!"

"Depending on the size of your merit, you will receive weapons, money, and even positions granted by me!"

"Use the blades in your hands to trade for everything you want!"

"Use the enemy's blood to water the hope of your future!"

"Tell me! Are you willing to go and retake the land that belongs to us!"

The first to respond were the bandits.

They were outlaws by nature, with an innate craving for slaughter and plunder.

Now that there was such a generous reward, they could no longer hold back.

The soldiers also roared in unison; they were warriors, and fighting was their duty.

Now that there was a clearer goal and incentive, their morale was also mobilized.

Finally, even the most timid serfs.

Infected by the fanatical atmosphere around them and driven by the extreme longing for freedom and land, they also let out hoarse but firm roars.

The voices of hundreds of people converged, dispelling the chill and shaking the wilderness.

Roko looked at the impassioned crowd below, his face still devoid of expression.

But deep in his eyes, a trace of imperceptible satisfaction flashed.

Very good, the morale is usable. ===== CHAPTER 18 =====