Brambleford Eastern Military Camp.

This was the barracks where the Brambleford Army was stationed. Compared to its peak strength of three thousand soldiers, the camp now housed only a little over three hundred troops.

Many barracks in the camp had been left vacant. In the past, these rooms were covered in cobwebs and thick with dust. But now, they had been cleaned out, and recruitment notices had been posted. Lately, a steady stream of people had been coming to enlist.

In just half a month, new recruits would begin training. This round of recruitment would fill the camp’s barracks, restoring the Brambleford Army to its former glory.

The veteran soldiers were especially excited, as if they had returned to the days before the invasion. The increase in troop numbers also meant greater chances for promotion.

However, before the new recruits even arrived, a group of raggedly dressed individuals had already moved into the camp. After inquiring, the soldiers learned that these were slaves purchased by the prince from various regions.

In the past, the veteran soldiers had no favourable opinion of the prince. But over the past two months, rumours of his transformation had spread throughout the city, gradually changing their perception of him. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"My Lord, these slaves can’t stay in the camp indefinitely. The new recruits will be arriving soon, and I have no space to spare." Complained Lancelot as soon as Simon arrived at the camp the next day.

"I never intended for them to stay here permanently. I’ll have them moved out before the recruits arrive." Simon replied, tucking his hands into his sleeves. Although the snow had stopped, the weather had only gotten colder.

Despite the golden sunlight, Simon still shivered from the chill.

"If that’s the case, then I suppose it’s fine." Lancelot sighed in relief before asking. "But, My Lord, why did you buy so many slaves? Surely the royal castle doesn’t need that many servants?"

Simon furrowed his brows and didn’t answer the question. Instead, he asked. "Do you think the reavers will attack Dunmere this winter?"

"I can’t say for sure," Lancelot replied gravely. "Three years ago, Brambleford was ravaged by an invasion. Over a hundred thousand able-bodied men were taken away, and we still haven’t recovered. Logically, the reavers should realize there’s nothing left to plunder here."

"But merchants from the grasslands report that a severe winter has killed off many of their cattle and sheep. The tribe, which lives north of Dunmere, has suffered particularly heavy losses. I fear they might become desperate."

Simon nodded. "If I remember correctly, the Alkamite tribe can muster an army of at least thirty thousand, right?"

"That’s correct. The reavers train their entire population as warriors, every man, aside from the elderly, women, and children, can fight."

"This time, they’re desperate because their livestock have frozen to death, and they won’t have enough to eat next year. That means they’ll raid to stockpile food. If that’s the case, could we do business with them instead? Brambleford cannot afford another invasion. If they attack Dunmere with thirty thousand men, even if we win, it would be a costly victory. Something I want to avoid." Simon mused.

Lancelot was straightforward, but not without intelligence. The recruits were untrained, bandits were still causing trouble in the six cities, and engaging in a full-scale war with the reavers would be disastrous.

"The merchants in Dunmere usually buy livestock and furs from the reavers in exchange for coal and iron ore. But this year, with so many cattle and sheep frozen to death, that trade is impossible, after all, who would buy dead livestock?" Lancelot shook his head, thinking the plan was unfeasible.

"Is that so?"

Simon lowered his head in thought. He had accumulated a good amount of soda ash for making soap, but the price of oil remained high, a problem that had been troubling the Goldwynd family.

Now that the reavers had lost a large number of cattle and sheep, wasn’t this the perfect opportunity to purchase animal fat? And since Lancelot mentioned the coal and iron trade, the Goldwynd family would have to be involved.

The Eldorian Empire officially prohibited selling coal and iron ore to the reavers, but smugglers were always around.

Simon naturally harboured no goodwill toward the reavers. The growing might of the Grassland Empire was a significant threat to both him and the Eldorian Empire. But for now, he was powerless to change that.

They simply could not win a war at this time. For the sake of stability and development, Simon had to swallow his pride and find another solution. This crisis could likely be resolved through the Goldwynd family, as they had long-standing business dealings with the reavers and private connections.

With his plan set, Simon chose not to discuss it with Lancelot. The enmity between the reavers and the Eldorian Empire was centuries old, and this kind of trade was anything but honourable.

His main reason for coming to the camp today was the matter of the slaves. Nine hundred and fifty of them, neither too many nor too few, but to Simon, they were crucial. They would be the workforce needed to establish several workshops.

The space in the Machinery Department was limited. It was already becoming too cramped for the growing number of artisans and equipment. Simon had long planned to build an industrial complex resembling a modern factory district.

He had already chosen the location, downstream of the Dew River, south of the city. These slaves would be responsible for constructing the workshop buildings and would later be assigned to work in them.

For security reasons, Simon would enclose the workshop district within high walls, with the Brambleford Army stationed there to ensure its safety.

By now, Lancelot had gathered all the slaves. Simon swept his gaze over them. They stood scattered, dressed in rags, their hands and feet shackled, shivering in the cold wind.

Just as Edger had said, most of these slaves were young men and women, prime labourers by slave standards.

After verifying their quality, Simon turned to Bjorn and instructed. "These slaves are now under your management. I’ve already given you the design for the brick kilns. With over nine hundred workers, you should have more than enough manpower. This winter, the Machinery Department will be overseen by Fjord. Your task is to use these slaves to produce red bricks and cement and to build the factory district. By spring, the Machinery Department’s equipment will be relocated there. Understood?"

"Yes, My Lord," Bjorn responded.

Simon nodded, then ordered Lancelot to assist Bjorn in escorting the slaves downstream to the Dew River, where the kilns were also located.

For this new workshop district, Simon decided not to use traditional mud walls and wooden structures but to construct it with modern red bricks.

Brick-making was not an advanced craft. Simon gave Bjorn a brief lesson on kiln operations, which were similar to pottery-making.

He didn’t need these bricks to match modern standards, only to be strong enough for the buildings.

The second key material was cement. Fjord was already well-versed in its production. These tasks were labour-intensive but simple, and the slaves were more than sufficient for the job.

Simon did not bother speaking to the slaves about grand ideals like freedom, democracy, or human rights. In this era, such concepts were as meaningless as empty words.

These slaves had already accepted their fate and status. Instead of preaching ideals, it was better to improve their living conditions, boost their morale, and gradually make them feel a sense of belonging.