Field had incorporated modern elements into the maid's outfit, raising the hemline above the knees and changing the sleeves to short ones. While missing the crucial black or white stockings, the sight of her crystalline, rounded toes and smooth, pale thighs was still quite pleasing to the eye.
"It fits well." Unable to bear the torment of uncertainty, Athna spoke with a hint of sarcasm, as if seeing through Field's intentions. "Milord, what would you have me do?"
Her job, according to the maids, was to sleep with the man before her. But Athna found this unlikely. Humans despised demi-humans. Animal ears and tails made humans feel their bloodline had been tainted by beasts, like devil-spawn born from unspeakable acts with goats.
"To assist me in pioneering my territory, as I just said," Field replied matter-of-factly. Seeing Athna's look of disbelief, he rubbed his forehead in resignation. "Let's eat first. We can talk over the meal."
At the mention of food, Athna immediately calmed down. Her stomach felt like it was burning with hunger.
Field's situation was precarious. Merely being disliked by his siblings for his demeanor was the least of it.
The old Count's health was failing day by day, and his vast fortune was about to be divided. Even though Field was unpopular, the laws of the Sacred Griffon Empire decreed that any direct bloodline had the right to a share of the inheritance.
It was essentially this world's version of a "Decree of Enfeoffment," breaking large territories into smaller ones to prevent any single lord from becoming too powerful.
Naturally, Field's brothers fervently wished for him to drop dead on the spot. They were also bitterly hostile towards each other.
Shortly after the dinner bell chimed, two prim maids entered, carrying platters of sauced steaks and honey bread.
"Athna, you possess... eh? Where'd she go?"
While carefully choosing his words, Field looked up to find Athna gone, leaving him utterly bewildered.
"I'm here."
Athna was sitting obediently on the floor in the corner, in a duck-sitting position.
"What are you doing?" Field asked, stunned.
"Uh... sitting... waiting to eat, Milord. Did I do something wrong?" Athna tensed up again.
Field strode over, grabbed her hand, and led her to the table. "Sit on the chair. Now, we eat."
Athna perched nervously on the very edge of the seat, barely a third of it. She watched Field intently for a long time, making sure the nobleman wasn't about to produce a whip... or a *meat* whip.
"You're not joking? I can eat this?" Athna pointed at the fragrant, steaming steak.
Field spread his hands. "Of course."
The poor beast-eared girl, seeing Field wasn't joking, cautiously lowered her head and took a small bite of the steak. Instantly, the rich flavor of meat blended with spices and sauce exploded on her palate. Taste buds that hadn't known meat for who knew how long danced wildly.
*This is the most wonderful thing in the world!*
Forgetting everything else, Athna rapidly devoured the steak on her plate and licked the sauce clean.
She proceeded to demolish three more steaks and five white bread rolls by herself. Only when her belly swelled like she was pregnant did she finally stop eating.
Field watched with a fatherly, benevolent smile.
*Heh heh heh, eat up, eat up. Work hard for me later.*
"Phew, I'd be willing to die now," Athna sighed, licking the last traces of sauce from her lips. Her wolf ears stood perkily upright.
"That won't be necessary. I intend to train you to become a Chosen One," Field said, steepling his fingers and leaning back in his chair.
He certainly wasn't honest enough to reveal that Athna was an unawakened Chosen One. "Train" was a much safer term.
"Ah? You might be disappointed, Milord. The chances of becoming a Chosen are minuscule. And I'm a demi-human. I've never even heard rumors of humans forming contracts with demi-humans," Athna replied meekly.
According to the books, Chosen Ones were more likely to appear in large, prosperous cities. Yet even in Golden Eagle City, only three Chosen had emerged in the last century – two children of nobles and one clergy member.
Demi-humans becoming Chosen were even rarer. They lacked powerful nations or prosperous cities; many struggled just to meet basic survival needs.
Field chuckled softly. "How will we know unless we try? I believe I can train you to become a Chosen One."
*If I fail, I'll probably die in the Cursed Lands anyway.*
"Alright... if it means I get to eat meat," Athna replied, licking her lips longingly.
The next ten days passed quickly on the road. To replenish Athna's nutrition, Field purchased large quantities of meat and magical tonics every time they passed through a city.
Athna soon realized Field wasn't joking.
Additionally, Field spent 150 gold coins on Mist-Repelling Lamps, Purification Potions, and an Awakening Crystal. He'd done his research; these magical artifacts were essential for pioneering Duskmire Lands.
They soon arrived at the final fortress guarding the passage to the Northern Frontier Province.
Bull Baron's Kashan Fortress, a stone castle built against the high mountains, stood as a bulwark against the Corrupted, magical beasts, and fearsome orcs surging from the North.
"Winter Goddess, protect me! Let me become a Chosen One!" Athna prayed silently to her people's deity, huddled inside the creaking wagon. The past few days felt like an unreal dream to her.
Riding in a nobleman's wagon, eating delicious steaks, even receiving care and service from maids – though unwilling and often grumbling.
Life these days had been akin to paradise. Lost in thought, Athna even touched her forehead, checking she wasn't feverish and delusional.
The only thing she couldn't comprehend was Field buying precious magical tonics for her to drink. She'd never heard of anyone becoming a Chosen One by consuming tonics.
"Maybe it's for an evil ritual," Athna muttered. "But... even if I really am being prepared as a sacrifice to devils, it might just be worth it. Ptooey! What am I saying!"
"Sigh, I really hope I *am* a Chosen. Otherwise, Baron Field will be furious, won't he?" All Athna could do was pray silently.
Steward Kao sighed in despair. "Sigh, never imagined the last time I'd come to Kashan Fortress would be like this."
Ignoring the steward's melodramatic lament, Field, seated on his horse, gently prodded Kao's shoulder with his riding crop. "You've been here often before?"
Kao rolled his eyes. "Of course! You were always donating your living expenses to the villagers here, or padding Bull Baron's war chest so he and his soldiers could wine, dine, and be merry."
"Uh, right." Field's mouth twitched, having forgotten the original owner was such a philanthropist. He gave an awkward laugh and shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, at least Bull Baron will welcome us warmly, won't he? And the locals will sing our praises. Getting in and out of Kashan Fortress should be much easier in the future."