In the morning, bright sunlight streamed through the castle balcony, spilling across the large, velvet-covered bed.
When Alistair awoke, the space beside him was already empty. A few chickadees had landed on the windowsill, chirping incessantly. The sweet scent of Abby still lingered in the air.
His mind felt hazy. In truth, he had barely slept. He was, after all, a young man in the prime of his life. Any man would have a hard time sleeping—in more ways than one—with a beautiful, naked maid lying beside him.
He rubbed his handsome, slightly puffy face and suddenly remembered he hadn't claimed his daily reward from yesterday. He needed to claim it before the tasks would refresh.
"System, I want my reward!"
[Ding! The host has completed all daily tasks. Claim rewards?]
"Claim!" Alistair declared with a grand wave of his hand.
A no-frills, spinning prize wheel whirred to life in his mind's eye. It spun round and round, rattling past the 'Potions' category before slowly, agonizingly, coming to a stop on 'Troops'.
Alistair's eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.
[Ding! Congratulations, Host! You have received Troops [Minotaur Warrior x10]. The reward will now be delivered in a reasonable format. Please prepare a clear, open space. No critical bonus was triggered for this reward. Please continue to work hard.]
No crit, Alistair thought with a flash of disappointment, but his spirits immediately lifted. Even without a critical bonus, this was an excellent reward.
Minotaurs! They were the elite troops of the Beastmen Empire, natural-born heavy infantry whose status was equivalent to the Pyrian Empire's Crusaders. From his memories of his past life, he knew that minotaurs were generally around the Grand Knight level, but their combat effectiveness far exceeded that of a typical knight of the same rank. He just wasn't sure what the system meant by 'a reasonable format'.
The thought had barely formed when a massive, intricate magic circle materialized on his rug. A brilliant magical radiance filled the room, dyeing the very air purple. Alistair instinctively threw up a hand to shield his eyes.
When the light subsided, ten tall, burly figures stood in his room.
They had sharp horns, tough hides, and muscles that knotted like ancient tree roots. Nearly ten feet in height, they wore simple leather armor and held enormous axes. These were powerful minotaur warriors. The sheer pressure they exuded just by standing there was immense. It was easy to imagine the terror they would inspire in their enemies as they charged across a battlefield, axes held high.
"The Ironhorn clan is at your service, my Lord!" one of them boomed, followed by a thunderous, HOOAH!
The speaker was even more robust than the others, standing a full head taller. His coarse, deep roar was so powerful it made Alistair's eardrums ache.
Why are you yelling so loud! Alistair thought, digging a finger in his ear with a sigh of resignation. This was just how minotaurs were.
He noted that these minotaurs looked different from the native ones on this continent. Their skin was a deep brown, and their aura felt calm and grounded. The minotaurs of this world had purplish-blue skin and looked far more savage and evil.
He focused his eyes, and the information panels for the warriors appeared.
[Name: Brakar Ironhorn]
[Identity: Chieftain of the Ironhorn Clan]
[Power Level: 38 (21-40)]
[Skills: Primal Charge, War Cry, War Stomp, Ancestral Totem, Shattering Cleave]
[Equipment: Mountain Lion King Hide Armor (Excellent), Skull-Smasher (Masterwork)]
[Reputation (Pyrian Empire): 1 (Currently, only you know of his existence.)]
[Reputation (Ironhorn Clan): 7489 (Before coming to this world, he was a beloved chieftain. Now, he will obey your commands. Your will is his blade's edge.)]
*****
[Name: Drogg (and other minotaurs)]
[Identity: Ironhorn Clan Minotaur Warrior]
[Power Level: 32 (21-40)]
[Skills: Primal Charge, War Stomp, Shattering Cleave]
[Equipment: Mountain Lion Hide Armor (Standard), Giant Iron Axe (Standard)]
[Reputation: Omitted]
*****
Alistair stroked his chin. Just as he'd suspected. These minotaurs were from another world, not native to this continent. But their strength did not disappoint. They were all veteran Great Knight-level fighters, and Brakar Ironhorn himself was bordering on becoming an Earth Knight.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Master, it's me." Abby's velvety voice came from outside.
Before Alistair could answer, one of the minotaurs near the door eagerly lumbered over to open it. As a valiant warrior of simple and honest character, opening a door for his new lord was a trivial matter!
"Hey, wait, don't—!"
It was too late.
The door swung open. Abby, dressed in her maid uniform and carrying a tray with cake and milk, was about to enter when a colossal shadow fell over her.
She looked up. Her line of sight traveled from a pair of massive, hairy knees, up a mountain of muscle, to a giant head. A creature with enormous, copper-bell eyes was staring down at her with a look of pure, unadulterated curiosity.
"Hello there!" it boomed. "Strange little human!"
Staring up at the enormous monster, Abby began to tremble uncontrollably. It was too much. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fainted dead away.
"Aaargh—" Alistair clapped a hand to his face, overcome with the urge to kick the idiotic minotaur who had opened the door straight off the castle balcony.
Someone else beat him to it.
"Drogg, you imbecile! You scared her!" Brakar had already delivered a swift kick to the offender's rear.
The minotaur warrior rubbed his backside, looking utterly bewildered. "How could I, Chieftain?" he mumbled. "In the Ironhorn clan, I'm a famously handsome minotaur."
Drogg wasn't lying. In the Ironhorn clan, the more explosive your muscles, the more handsome you were considered. And Drogg firmly believed that, after the chieftain, he was the second most handsome warrior in the entire clan.
As if to prove his point, he flexed with all his might. His body seemed to inflate like a balloon, and he widened his large bovine eyes, an expression that only made him look more terrifying.
"Shut up, Drogg! Before I have you turned into roasted steaks!" Brakar roared. He then turned to Alistair, his expression apologetic. "My apologies, my Lord. Drogg is a good lad, truly. He means no harm."
Alistair knew that. They weren't malicious, just a bit overeager. He waved a dismissive hand, having already scooped up the poor fainted maid and placed her gently on the bed, pulling the covers over her. She had just fainted from shock; she would wake up once her brain's stress response subsided. It was probably best she didn't see the massive minotaurs again right away.
"You are all new here," Alistair said, addressing the troops. "The people in this castle don't know you, so it's natural they'll be afraid at first. It will get better with time."
He continued, "First, I'll show you around the grounds and introduce you to the castle staff. Then I'll arrange work for you. Don't worry," he added, seeing their eager faces. "My domain is on the imperial border. There will be plenty of wars to fight. I won't insult you by keeping you on castle guard duty forever."
At this, the minotaur warriors grew visibly excited. Their massive hooves began to stomp rhythmically on the floor, and their tails swished back and forth. Even the stoic Brakar Ironhorn couldn't help but crack a ferocious grin.
Minotaurs were a peace-loving people, but they would never shy away from the glory of a charge on the battlefield.