"M-me?"
Kreig's voice cut through the still air, a fragile tremor hanging in its echo.
He struggled to find words.
"L-Lord, why me…?"
He had been chosen to lead the cleaners.
A role unheard of for someone like him.
Lord Abel didn't even pay attention choosing. He simply extended a finger into the crowd, and it just so happened to land on Kreig.
'Shit'
Some glared, sharp and threatening, the sudden declaration caught everyone's ears.
Others scoffed or chuckled, unable to hide their disdain.
Even among the cleaners, there was disgust.
"Why him?" someone muttered.
"He looks like he'll snap in a breeze… what's with that pathetic knife?"
Their laughter crawled through the hall like smoke.
These bastards…
He would never dare speak those thoughts a loud.
The shame traveled beneath Kreig's skin.
Some among them stared with envy, recognizing the authority that came with leading, even if only cleaners.
But most looked at him as if he were dead weight.
"What's your name?" Abel's cold voice broke the crowd's rising murmur.
"K-Kreig. Kreig Haven, My Lord," he answered, bowing as deeply as his fear allowed.
I'm lost.
I'm terrified.
"I see," Abel murmured. His tone was unreadable, cold, and disinterested.
"There are 1,000 combatants under our faction," said Daren, stepping forward with his usual brusque clarity. "After hiring you lot, the number stands at 1,275. Sounds impressive to you, I'm sure."
He paused.
"But against an Orc Lord with 1,500 elite fighters? Not even close."
"Still," he continued, "every 10 kill nets you one silver shard."
'One silver shard…?'
There are two currencies in this world: Essence and Shards.
Shards follow a simple hierarchy:
Bronze → Silver → Gold → Platinum → Sovereign
100 bronze = 1 silver
100 silver = 1 gold
…and so on.
One silver shard per 10 kill?
That's sweet talk. Something so good it was suspicious.
Regardless, the crowd has turned even livelier. The temptation of money is strong, strong enough for some to willingly lose their lives for.
'Do they deem their lives worth as silver?'
I couldn't help but think so.
Indeed, ten kills for a silver is worth it, but against something they're unfamiliar with, it will never be worth their souls.
But… It worked.
'Lord Abel might go bankrupt before this campaign ends.'
Kreig thought, though suspicious, he did not dare make it obvious.
'This isn't a reward. Something feels awfully wrong."
…
"This is the explored region so far," Daren said, uncurling a broad scroll. Its parchment basked in crimson and obsidian, revealing a detailed map. "As you all know, the endless abyss is home to treasures and terrors. It resists expansion, devours progress, and most of all, invites enmity from the unknown," he paused. "But, if this major war is won… thy rewards will never be forgotten."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, some in awe, others in doubt.
Kreig stared at the map. He thudded, not from the treasures or threats awaiting, but from what Daren wasn't saying.
Then… something flickered on his head, the map wasn't drawn in his hand. It pulsed faintly…
'Is that thing a skill…?'
He wondered.
"
Living on the alley was tough.
He had to deal with not only the gut-wrenching smell, but also those bastards that make life harder; gangs, robbers, everything can be found in that alley but peace.
He can subtly remember every time his coins were stolen, seeing the scene before him, he couldn't help but ponder.
'Perhaps it was a skill as well…'
"Dominion's grasp…," someone among the crowd muttered. "The moment a lord reaches level 2, Tier III, they gain access to that skill… A living map showing activities, status, and boundaries… to think that the lord would be of this level."
Kreig swallowed.
'A level 2, Tier III lord…'
It turns out that lord Abel is a level 2, Tier III domain lord… or higher. The scroll was but a fraction of the skill called "Dominion Grasp," a mere sight of it caused ruckus among the many. Some, however, remained unwavering, like the five leaders of the combatants.
"The enemy is in the far East. It will take an hour on foot," Abel said at last.
"The mercenaries take the front. Our troops serve as backup… should things go south."
"We leave in an hour."
…
After an hour, the whole army had assembled. Soon, Lord Abel and Daren appeared as well, they had changed their clothing from robes into some protective armor covering their whole body except their face. They weren't on foot, they had horses with them, something that seemed like a luxury as the eyes below them marbled in jealousy.
Kreig was one of those who were jealous. Not only was he jealous, but he was also worried that he would not be able to keep up with the pace, as he was not physically fit.
Finally, Lord Abel gave an order to start. He had a stern look as he ordered, he was not worried about the city, as he didn't bring the whole army to keep the base safe while away.
After all, better safe than nothing.