"There was no helping it—knowledge in this era was monopolized to an unimaginable degree."
To make up for the losses from this decapitation operation, Phield requisitioned ten death-row prisoners guilty of heinous crimes and purchased fifteen sets of Tier 1 greatswordsman equipment.
In the end, he stocked up on a large quantity of food and tools, loading the slaves to the brim.
After counting his gold, Phield felt like crying.
"Even including the treasury of Nightfall Domain, we only have thirty-two thousand gold coins left."
A headache throbbed in his temples. Money was disappearing at a suffocating pace—especially when it came to training elite troops. A single knight required hundreds of gold coins to raise, and that was with low-tier equipment.
"No wonder everyone prefers conscripts and expendable slave soldiers. Turns out it's simply because they're cheap."
Shaking his head helplessly, Phield led the massive procession to the border.
