The medieval world of Pokémon wasn't so different from the medieval age of reality.
Aside from the existence of creatures called "Pokémon," the two were almost identical, dividing people into rigid classes.
Dukes, nobles, commoners, slaves…
Among the followers the old king had assigned his son, thirty-five were slaves tasked with housework and heavy labor.
Cliff was one of them.
He had once belonged to another kingdom, but after defeat in war, he became a slave of the Kingdom of Eindoak.
Together with the other slaves, he had followed the convoy here. After everything that had happened, Cliff felt nothing but despair for his life.
Not only had he fallen into slavery, but now he was stuck in this hopeless place—hungry, cold, and with the very real possibility of freezing to death.
Perhaps it wouldn't be long before he simply slipped away one frigid morning.
Cliff chewed on a piece of coarse black bread, lost in thought.
Just then, a commotion rose in the distance.
He heard the voice of a knight named Lyon.
"Everyone, gather here!"
Cliff tucked away the half-eaten bread and followed the others forward, his face expressionless.
Before long, aside from those too gravely injured, nearly the entire camp had assembled.
Through the shifting crowd, Cliff caught sight of the third prince of Eindoak—the boy who was to become their lord.
For a fleeting moment, their eyes seemed to meet, though the prince quickly looked away.
Despite his youth, the boy's stern expression carried surprising authority.
"Everyone, please be quiet," Cliff heard him say.
Raven's gaze swept across the crowd before he began to speak slowly:
"After today, I'm sure you've all seen our situation clearly."
"Because of the snowstorm, we've lost our way. And with our current food supplies, it's impossible to reach our destination as planned."
"But the good news is this—what food we do have is enough to last us through the winter."
"Still, winter is long. Over the next two months, the temperature will keep dropping. With nothing but these tents, I fear we won't withstand the coming cold."
Faces paled at his words. Despair flickered in the eyes of many.
"But I've found a way forward," Raven said firmly. "On the honor of the royal house of Eindoak, I swear I will do everything in my power to see every one of you survive!"
The people below blinked in surprise, their hearts stirred by his vow.
"Your Highness Raven…"
Raven looked over them and continued, "For the next month, our carpenter Tucker will focus on felling trees and building houses, to protect us from the cold to come."
"But Tucker cannot do it alone. So I ask each of you to contribute—whether fishing, gathering berries, collecting food, cutting wood, or raising houses. If we endure this winter, everything will turn for the better!"
"Yes—we can do it!" a clear, youthful voice rang out from the crowd.
Raven raised his head and saw a girl of about ten looking at him with burning determination.
He gave her a nod.
At once, the scattered group seemed to find its backbone.
At least for now, they had direction. They knew what to do.
"There is one more matter," Raven spoke again.
All eyes instinctively turned toward him.
"From this day forth, there are no more slaves in this land."
The crowd erupted.
The commoners were surprised, but the thirty-five slaves stared in shock, their faces filled with disbelief.
N-No more slaves? What did that mean?
Did this lord believe they were a waste of food and plan to have them killed?
"I, as the lord of this land, grant you the status of free men."
Raven's voice rang out once more.
"From now on, as long as you work hard, you'll be given your own houses. And one day, perhaps even your own plots of land."
!!!
In an instant, those slaves—who just moments ago had been trembling with fear—stared wide-eyed at each other, stunned beyond words.
Were they dreaming?
Cliff could not help but call out, his voice shaking:
"Your Highness Raven, is this… true?"
"Of course," Raven met his gaze. Then his tone shifted: "But…"
Hearts leapt to throats again.
Raven smiled. "All of this depends on whether we survive the coming winter."
The crowd collectively exhaled in relief.
The way they looked at the young prince changed.
Respect. Gratitude. Even awe.
Cliff, meanwhile, stood rooted to the spot, dazed.
Not a slave anymore… From this day on, he was free!
The meaning of that needed no explanation.
Tears welled in his eyes. At last, at long last…
From this moment forward, he would follow Prince Raven unto death!
Raven, of course, noticed. In fact, it was his intention.
Watching the numbers flicker across the panel before him—Loyalty +1, Satisfaction +1—he allowed himself a small smile.
He could have said more, but urgent matters remained.
"For the sake of our parents and children, for the safety of us all, I ask you now—give everything you can for the winter ahead!" Raven declared.
The task was heavy, time was short.
At once, the camp bustled with activity.
Women lifted baskets and set out to the forest to gather berries and food.
The strong men followed the knights to the forest's edge to cut timber.
When at last the crowd dispersed, Raven let out a quiet breath.
It was his first time addressing such a situation, and of course he'd been nervous. In his past life, he was nothing but an ordinary man.
Still, judging by their response, he'd played the part well.
Once alone, Raven returned to his tent.
That brief speech alone had earned him another 50 satisfaction points.
Almost there—just 200, and he could unlock his first technology.
He glanced at Dratini, curled up in a blanket, snoring softly, and his thoughts grew heavy.
Truth be told, their situation was far from safe. Even with the beginnings of a settlement, if a Tyranitar came rampaging through, not even all of them together could stand a chance.
He had to grow stronger himself.
Raven began planning Dratini's special training.
For now, he was the only trainer here—or something close enough to one.
Only by becoming stronger, only by helping Dratini grow, could they increase their chances of survival.
But this raised new problems.
First: as a pseudo-legendary, Dratini was notoriously slow to mature. By the time it evolved into Dragonite, their graves might already be covered in weeds.
So what if he captured something else, like a Butterfree—something that grew quickly? The thought weighed on his mind.
Second: this era had no Pokémon Centers, no healers for Pokémon, no potions or medicines.
Which meant if Dratini were injured during training, there would be no way to treat it.
The thought left Raven with a pounding headache.
Compared to other transmigrators, his was practically a hell-difficulty start…
(End of Chapter 9)