For the soldiers, fifteen men were interested. The remaining three locals chose to not accept any jobs. Lark’s reputation was probably the deterrent, since the offers themselves were magnanimous enough for this small town.
Lark clapped his hands once and everyone’s attention turned to him.
“I want all of the farmers and builders to gather in this hall tomorrow, same time,” said Lark. “We will immediately start the construction of the eastern border this winter.”
Those that belonged to farming and construction bobbed their heads and replied, “Understood, Young Master!”
Lark turned towards the group of men on his left. Since they were homeless and the Black Famine had just struck the Kingdom, they were skin and bones. If not for the free porridge he had been giving out during the past few days, they would have been skinnier.
“Now, for the soldiers. I will be giving out a simple test,” said Lark. He signaled the servants and soon, numerous pots made of clay were handed out to each of them. “If you pass the test, I will allow you to enter the ranks of my personal army. All benefits will be given, of course. You have my word. But if you fail to pass my simple test, do not worry. You can still choose to work as a farmer or a builder for Lark Marcus.”
Lark told the aspiring soldiers to fall in line. After receiving their pots, each of them was given three seeds. Lark would scribble down something on a parchment after asking the name of the person in front of him. To Melody’s surprise, Lark also asked her to participate in his little test. The blonde young woman fell in line and also received her pot and seeds.
After everyone received the seeds, Lark smiled. “Now, for the test. All of you will be tasked to cultivate those seeds. Make them grow – in four days.”
The aspiring soldiers were stunned, definitely confused. They applied to be a soldier, not a farmer. Why was the young master asking them to grow some seeds?
As though voicing everyone’s thoughts, someone asked, “Forgive my insolence, but young master, is this little test necessary? We’re… We’re not farmers.”
Lark seemed to have expected this question. He nodded. “Of course. Listen, if you are unable to make those three seeds grow, you will fail the test. Only those that have successfully made all three seeds grow into a small plant within the time period will be allowed to join my personal army.” He looked at Melody and said, “The same goes for you.”
The young woman nodded, saying that she understood.
Lark cleared his throat. “Any questions?”
After a period of silence, he said, “Farmers and builders, you are required to gather here tomorrow. As for the soldiers, come back here after four days. Bring the plants with you.”
After those words, he dismissed them from the hall.
Lark licked his lips and smiled. He was looking forward to the results four days from now.
Chapter Seven
Evander knew that he was dreaming as he watched the scene in front of his very eyes.
A boy, probably five or six years old, was digging through the garden. His silver hair was a mess as his cerulean eyes smiled. Beads of sweat flowed down his face as he chuckled. Butterflies flew around, while birds chirped. It would have been a pristine sight if not for the cat in front of him.
The cat was mutilated. Its ears were cut off while the skin was burnt in many places. Blood dripped down its opened mouth. Judging by the weak purrs, it was still barely alive.
“Mister Cat, I told you to play with me, right?” said the boy. “You should have listened to me. This is your punishment. That’s right! Punishment!”
The boy continued digging on the ground, his small hands scooping out the soil before him. After placing the cat inside the hole he dug, a young man came running towards him.
The young man grabbed the boy’s collar, lifting him up. “Lark! What are you doing?! Didn’t I told you to stop killing the pets!?”
“Big Brother?” said the boy, tilting his head. “What are you talking about? I’m just playing with the cat.”
The boy smiled and the dream ended.
After waking up, Evander slowly sat up on his bed. If he had known that the dream was going to be nasty, he would have cut it off right at the start.
Somehow, he felt that the dream was part of the memories of his current body. He had never experienced taking over the body of another person before, so he was not sure.
“That’s right, I’m Lark Marcus now,” he said with a sigh.
He went towards the window and swept aside the curtains. Snow was still falling to the ground.
After the job offer was issued, he supervised the construction project at the eastern border of the town. To his surprise, the workers did not complain at all. Thankfully, there was an abundance of wood and logs in this town due to the forest nearby. Those materials were left untouched due to the inclement weather, but with the help of the heat stones, the workers were able to immediately start the construction.
He conjectured that since those houses would eventually be handed out to the locals, they felt motivated working on it. Furthermore, the heat stones have greatly shown its effect. Although it was unable to fully eliminate the snow and the cold, it enabled the workers to continue with the construction project despite the weather.
Four days have passed since the recruitment. Now, it was time to assess the soldiers.
***
Qarat was crestfallen. Today was the deadline for the test the young master had given them. He had done anything he could, but for some reason, only one out of the three plants grew. He stared at the plant in the pot. It was small, almost inconspicuous, but it was the only successful one among the three.
He shook his head. “I’m definitely going to fail the test. Maybe I should just consider being a farmer? The northern and western lands are barren, but the Young Master said that he has a way to reclaim those areas.”
Being a farmer was not a bad idea, too. He could plow his fields and enjoy the harvest. Unlike the other regions of the Kingdom wherein battles frequently took place, Blackstone Town was a relatively peaceful area. There were very few cases wherein armies or bandits would loot the town. Being a farmer in this region was definitely safer than the other parts of the Kingdom.
“But I can’t even grow a damn seed.” He smiled in self-mockery. “I’m probably not suited to become a farmer. Then, being a builder is the last choice.”
Honestly, he was after the benefits of a soldier. Eleven silvers were a massive amount. Moreover, he was tempted by the offer of free meat. Although the job of a soldier involved life and death, this was Blackstone Town which was hardly visited by anyone. Even merchants would seldomly drop by this place since it had nothing to offer. If not for the Lion City located two days away, this town would have been isolated from the rest of the Kingdom.
Qarat gripped his black, disheveled hair in frustration. He really wanted to be a soldier, but the test result was already obvious.
He stared at the plant growing in the pot. He had been living in this town for two decades now. He was sure that the plant was called Cal Shrub. A common plant that would grow everywhere. Although it was not as ubiquitous as Poison Cloud, it was still relatively easy to find.
An idea went to Qarat’s mind. “Since those three seeds are the same. If I just find a Cal Shrub on the ground, a small one, then plant it on the pot… Surely, the Young Master wouldn’t notice, right?”
If he managed to do that, he would definitely pass the test. After all, he would be able to meet the requirement of making all three seeds grow.
Qarat stood motionless inside the collapsed shack. The roof had fallen long ago due to the weight of piled up snow. Lost in his thoughts, he ignored the assault of the freezing snow.
After some time, Qarat sighed. A steam puffed out of his mouth. “Forget it. I’ll feel bad if I passed the test like that. If I can’t become a soldier or a farmer, I can still apply for the position of a builder. The Young Master said so before.”
On his way towards the place, he saw some of the aspiring soldiers carrying the pots in their hands. They held it as though it was something precious, as though their lives depended on it.
To Qarat’s dismay, he saw some of them with three Cal Shrubs growing on the pots.
All three of their seeds grew. Damn it.
He gnashed his teeth as he tried brushing off the bitterness in his heart. Upon arrival in the Mansion, they once again gathered in the hall. The Young Master was already there, with the old butler at his side.
The young master counted their numbers then nodded afterwards. He said, “Good. It seems that everyone’s here. So, how was it? Did you enjoy my little test?”
The Lord was definitely young, probably fifteen or sixteen years old, but Qarat would sometimes wonder why his gaze was full and deep, as though it held wisdom borne from decades of living. It was a stark contrast to the Young Master he had met a few months ago. The playful and arrogant Lark Marcus had totally vanished.
The aspiring soldiers simply nodded at the Young Master’s remark.
After spreading his hands, Lark grinned, “Then, let’s start the assessment.”
The butler told everyone to fall in line, while the young master grabbed a large piece of parchment in his hand. The first in line was a tall man with bony cheeks. His face was full of confidence as he held the pot in his hands. Inside the pot, three Cal Shrubs grew.
The man did not even get to speak when the young master suddenly said, “Failed. Next.”
Upon hearing those words, Qarat was baffled. The man clearly had successfully grown three plants. So, why did he fail? It was the question that rattled his mind, and Qarat was sure that it was the same question currently going through everyone’s mind.
The man gulped down the lump in his throat, looked at the pot he was holding, then asked, “Young Master? What do you mean ‘failed’?”
The Young Master narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you hear me? I said you failed the test.”
“But! I have grown all three seeds! Look!” The man raised the pot so that the young master could see it clearly.
“That’s the point,” said the Young Master. “One of those seeds are defective, dead, unable to grow. You’ve grown three of them. You’ve clearly cheated.”
The man froze upon hearing this. Qarat noticed that those that grew three plants were restless. Slowly, hope rekindled within Qarat’s heart.
The Young Master said that one of those seeds was defective. Then maybe the reason why my other seeds didn’t grow…
Qarat was soon filled with excitement. The job as a soldier might not be out of reach after all.
“Listen, what is the most important aspect of being a soldier?” said Lark. At this question, everyone turned silent. “Strength? Stamina? Wealth? No. It’s credibility. The rest are secondary. A soldier is not simply a killing machine, a creature meant to subdue another. A soldier is someone that ensures the safety of the sovereign. If the core is rotten, so will be the body.”
A surge of heat flowed through Qarat’s chest upon hearing that speech. He could feel his heart start to pound loudly.
The most important is not strength. It’s credibility. The rest are secondary.
Those words kept resounding within Qarat’s mind.
“We can train your body. We can train your skills. We can train your spirit,” said Lark. “But we cannot train character. That’s the purpose of this test.”
One after another, the aspiring soldiers were judged by the Young Master. Soon, it became Qarat’s turn. The hairs on his brown skin stood upon facing the Young Master. He was nervous. He simply wished he would pass.
Once I passed, I can eat meat every four days. That would be paradise.
To a commoner like him, meat was a luxury he could only dream of. Unless the hunter next door shared the prey he had caught, Qarat was unable to eat meat at all. Just imagining the free meat made him salivate.
“Name?” said Lark.
With a trembling voice, Qarat replied, “Q-Qarat,”
Lark looked at the pot Qarat was holding then at the parchment. He smiled, tapped Qarat’s shoulders then said, “You’ve passed. Congrats.”
Hearing this, Qarat could barely suppress his happiness. He bowed his head and said, “Thank you, Young Master.”
The young master merely chuckled, “The training for soldiers will be harsh. Ready yourself.”
“Yes! I will do my best!”
After the assessment, out of the fifteen aspirants, only nine successfully passed the exam.
Lark clapped his hands. “I will skip the formalities. Starting today, we shall immediately begin your training.”
Chapter Eight
Clark, a middle-aged man wearing leather armor, silently watched as the Young Master made his assessment of the soldiers. As the Head of the Guards, his priority was the safety of the young noble. But honestly speaking, he did not like the Young Master at all. The second son of Lord Drakus was a total brat. There had been numerous times wherein Clark could not help but ask himself how a person could be so evil, so hedonistic, that there seemed no chance for redemption.
If he could, he would have left this small town long ago. But since it was an order from his beloved master, Lord Drakus, he steeled his resolve to stay until the end. Clark repeatedly convinced himself that he should endure this and carry out his duty faithfully.
What is the brat thinking, suddenly recruiting soldiers?
Clark sighed. Near him, he could also see the expressions of the other guards. They were also probably confused of the sudden change in the Young Master these past few days. For some unknown reason, he suddenly started giving out free food to the starving residents. When Clark first heard of it, he laughed at the absurdity of the news. But after seeing the servants actually distributing the wheat porridge, his jaw slacked in wonder.
“Let’s skip the formalities,” said the Young Master. “Let’s immediately start with training.”
Clark frowned. He knew that the Young Master was incredibly weak. Whenever the Young Master got into trouble, he would come running to the guards to ask for help. Although clearly annoyed and hesitant, the guards would always answer his call. Just like Clark, the other seven guards were loyal to Lord Drakus. Otherwise, they would have left this town long ago.
The servants appeared, carrying with them numerous spears. Clark was sure that there were no such weapons in the Mansion, even in the underground basement. He started wondering where they got hold of them.
“Clark—,” said the Young Master. “—And the rest of the guards. Come over here.”
Upon the order, Clark and the other guards went towards the young master. At the corner of their eyes, they could see the spears being handed out to each soldier.
“Young master, you called?” said Clark.
Lark nodded. “The eight of you will join the training. No exemptions.”
The guards looked at each other.
“What do you mean, Young Master?” said Clark, clearly confused of what was happening.
Lark sighed. He pointed at the soldiers holding a spear. The shaft was made of wood while the blade was made of iron. “Get a spear, all of you. Then join those guys.”
“We’re joining the training too?” said one of the guards.
“That’s right,” said Lark. They could see the annoyed stare of the Young Master. “That’s an order. Go.”
After a few moments of hesitation, the guards grabbed a spear then joined the soldiers. As one of the guards belonging to the Marcus Family, each of them have fairly decent strength. They were confident that even if all of these “soldiers” were to fight them, they would easily emerge victorious in the end. They felt that it was a waste of time to be joining the training of these soldiers which, just a few moments ago, were ordinary residents of Blackstone Town.
&nbs
p; ‘I guess this is better than taking care of the mess the Young Master makes whenever he gets into a fight in the town. That’s right. This is probably better.’ Clark consoled himself with these thoughts.
“Uhm, Young Master?” said one of the soldiers. “Are you the one who’s going to train us?”
Clark almost chuckled. What a stupid question. Of course, the one training them would be somebody else. What would the frail Young Master know about battle, after all?
“Yes, that’s correct,” replied Lark.
The shock within the eyes of the guards, including Clark, was evident. Some of them tried to open their mouth and speak, but eventually chose to stay silent in the end. The guards all knew the temperament of the Young Master. One wrong move and they would be the target of ridicule and punishment.
“Of course, since I’ll be the one teaching you,” said Lark. “It’s only proper that I display my skills before everyone. It’ll be hard to follow the instructions of a sheltered noble, after all.”
Although everyone was silent, they all nodded within their minds. They did not feel like being taught by someone who was clearly weaker than them.
Lark gripped the shaft of his spear. “After a year, I hope that everyone will be able to do at least this much.”
Suddenly, a strong killing intent filled the entire hall. Although Clark had been working as a guard for the Marcus Family, he had never once felt such savage sensation in his life. It was as though someone was devouring him whole, like he was a prey meant merely for entertainment. Even the Royal Knights in the Capital did not give such vehement bloodlust.
Clark’s legs started trembling as the hair on his skin rose. Sweat started forming on his face. His throat started to become dry. He knew this sensation well:
It was fear.
If I, the Head of the Guards, is like this…. Then...
Just like he had expected, the others were no better than him. The other guards were pallid, as though all the blood in their body were drained. The soldiers, on the other hand, were trembling violently. There were even some of them that pissed their pants.
Legend of the Arch Magus- The Expansion Page 4