"The rules are simple," Alaric said, his voice carrying authority. "I'll call each of you into that cabin one by one. I'll ask a few questions. If you're strong enough, you'll be recruited into Ashworth's New Order Army. And if some of you prove to have real potential," he paused, letting the tension build, "you'll be given a special position within the Order."
"Of course, there's no discrimination here, gender, race, or anything else," Alaric said flatly. "If you're strong and useful, that's all that matters."
The applicants began to follow Alaric's orders, entering the cabin one by one. Seated beside his father, Alaric observed each individual. Using his Inspect skill, he evaluated their latent potential while asking pointed, practical questions.
"What is your occupation?"
"What skills do you possess?" with his calm tone, while his eyes judged them.
|Inspect skill used |
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Most of them were young men, drawn here by the ambition to rise quickly in rank. However, the majority possessed no more than a latent potential of B, with many falling into the C and D categories.
Alaric still chose to recruit them, not for their potential alone, but for their ambition. He carefully categorized them into roles that suited their strengths: some excelled in archery, others in swordsmanship, and a few possessed immense physical strength and sturdy builds. Though their latent potential wasn't exceptional, they were more than capable of serving as soldiers, and with time, perhaps even rising to the rank of knights.
"Next!" Magnis called out, his voice firm as he stood by the cabin entrance, motioning for the next applicant to step forward.
A short but muscular personality covered their body and face with a dark hood.
"Let me see your face," Alaric commanded.
As the figure removed their hood, gasps rippled through the room.
A Dwarf stood before them, short in stature but broad-shouldered, with a thick auburn beard braided with tiny steel rings. His eyes gleamed with quiet confidence.
A rare sight in these lands, Dwarves were a race known across the continent for their unmatched craftsmanship. When it came to forging weapons, refining ore, or building tools of war, even the most skilled human blacksmiths paled in comparison.
"Jackpot," Alaric thought while barely able to contain the spark of excitement, leaned forward.
"A Dwarf," he muttered under his breath, casting Inspect.
|SystemNotad***
Dorwon,58,Male
Race: Dwarf
Latent Potential: B
Skills: Blacksmithing (Advanced), Metal Enchanting (Intermediate), Geological Sense
Trait: Blessing of fire
"Give me your name," Alaric asked.
"I am Dorwon. I heard you are recruiting people with talents, and I am more capable of crafting iron tools than most," he answered.
"Before that, I want to know what you are doing here, leaving the tribe, where every dwarf works," Alaric asked.
It's probably because of the demonic followers who targeted the different races... I've made a mess of people's lives in this world I created," Alaric thought.
"We were attacked by members of some organisation in dark cloaks who wielded an ominous type of mana," Dormon replied. "When we tried to fight back, they blew themselves up, causing even more casualties. We had no choice but to flee from our hometown in the Rocky Mountains."
"What do you mean by 'we'? Are you not alone?" Alaric asked, eyes wide in surprise.
"No," Dormon replied, then turned and called out to the others.
Soon, his companions emerged with their families, fifteen males, six females, and four children, who looked much like human children, except for their broad shoulders.
"This is my lucky day," Alaric, with a faint smile, muttered to himself.
"If you pledge your loyalty to House Ashworth, I will offer you a forge for you and your companions and provide shelter for your people within my lands. I shall use your skills to create tools and weapons for my people, and I promise to protect you and your companions," Alaric announced, his eyes gleaming with determination.
"I came here to seek a job, not to pledge my loyalty to anyone", Dormon responded politely.
"I see. Then you don't have to pledge your loyalty. Instead, work for House Ashworth for ten years. The other conditions remain the same. What do you say?" Alaric proposed.
After a brief moment of thought, Dormon replied, "I agree."
"I'll have a contract prepared. For now, you may rest in the room assigned to you," Alaric said, beckoning a soldier to escort them inside.
"Next!" Magnis called out, Next applicant to step forward.
A man in his thirties stood tall, just like Goron, but his eyes were calm. His face was rough, marked by bruises, and his body bore claw marks and sword scars across his arms and chest, showing he was a mercenary.
"What is your name?" Alaric asked.
"I am Mark Karen," he replied,
Alaric was shocked by the name "Mark Karen."
"Mark Karen, the future mercenary king, who will be on par with Magnis in his prime, was only working as a mercenary to gather enough wealth to treat his daughter. She had an incurable disease that covered a person in red marks all over their body, gradually weakening and killing them. His daughter died right before he found a cure. Then he committed suicide out of regret for not finding a cure faster."
While maintaining his calm demeanor
"Why do you want to join us ? Alaric questioned.
"The only reason why I am working is to gather wealth for a cure for someone, and I heard you are recruiting talents. I am skilled enough with the sword as well as real-life experience."Mark replied.
|SystemNotad***
Inspect Skill used
Mark Karen,35, Male
Race: Human
Latent Potential: AA
Skills: Swordsmanship(Advanced), Body Strengthing(Intermediate),
Fist fighting(Intermediate), Daggar Throw(Expert), Tracking(Expert)
Trait: Steady Wall
"Wow, this is the first time I've seen someone with so many skills," Alaric whispered to himself.
"Who is this someone ?"Alaric asked in a polite tone.
My daughter… she's infected with the Crimson Rot," Mark said, his eyes hollow and void of emotion.
"I see… how about you take the position of commander for Ashworth's army, to oversee training for them with your experience ?"Alaric said, pacing slowly behind the table.
"Sorry, I have no intention of taking up a position with such responsibility, I am only here to join here to work as a soldier," Mark said instantly.
"If you will take up that position, I will cure your daughter's illness."Alaric in a confident impression reflecting the truth.
"What did you say? It's impossible that there is no cure for this disease. I am only gathering wealth to buy a high-quality elixir, which can only be made by the Magic Tower." Mark said in anger, his previous calm demeanor nowhere to be seen.
"It's no use," Alaric said, his eyes locked onto Mark's. "Elixirs only amplify vitality; they boost the body's natural healing. But the Crimson Rot feeds on that vitality. Giving her an elixir is like pouring water into a broken bucket."
He took a step back, voice sharper now.
"Now decide, will you save your daughter, or let her die? The choice is yours. Think carefully. Your decision can give her a good ending or a tragic one."
With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, Alaric turned his back on Mark.
"Choose wisely."
The final words "Choose wisely" echoed in Mark's mind as a chilling reminder of the consequences waiting at the end of his decision. Sweat trickled down his shoulders, a silent testament to the weight of his deliberation, Alaric had forced him to face.
"W-Will you really be able to cure my daughter's illness?" Mark asked, still in a confused state.
"Okay," Alaric sighed, the breath escaping his lips. "First, I will treat your daughter's illness. After that, you will pledge your loyalty and join us as a commander of our new army," Alaric continued. "You may bring your daughter here by carriage. By that time, I will have prepared all the items needed for curing her," Alaric confirmed.
Mark, still filled with doubt, chose to follow the small hint of hope he found in Alaric's confidence and quietly left to act on it.
After continuously evaluating hundreds of applicants until sunset, Alaric successfully expanded Ashworth's territorial army by a few hundred more soldiers.
Alaric, now tired from the continuous use of his Inspect Skill, stood up and announced,
"That's all for today. We'll continue this tomorrow. Until then, stay at the camp organized near the lake for the night."
With a saint-like smile, he waved his hand at applicants and added cheerfully,
"Also, don't forget to buy food and clothes at the stalls!"
Frederick, who sat next to Alaric the whole time, impressed and with pride, said, "I am proud of you, son. You've grown into someone on whom people can depend." He then went ahead to dining room.
"Thank you, Father," Alaric muttered, thinking, "Looks like at least in this life, someone is proud of me."
As Alaric was about to head to the dining room, his eyes caught someone still seated in the audience place of the arena.
"Who is that? Still waiting for the evaluation?" Alaric asked, his hands folded behind his head. As soon as he blinked, the person vanished. "Where did he go?" Alaric thought.
"Master Alaric, Master Alaric," Magnis called in the distance.
"Yes, Magnis?" Alaric replied.
Mother Beatrice is calling you for dinner," Magnis said.
"There was someone there sitting near the arena," Alaric replied.
"Master Alaric, I made sure every applicant reached the camp personally, escorted by our soldiers. You must have dreamed it," Magnis confirmed.
"I-I see," Alaric replied as he was pulled to the dining room by Magnis.
A person in a dark robe holding a large wand in hand appeared near the shadows of the cabin. "It was able to find me, maybe he is not a complete fool," grumbled.
In the dining room, the usual hard bread and goat milk had been replaced with roasted chicken as the main dish and fresh fruit juices as the side.
Daisy, her cheeks puffed out with food, mumbled, "Mmm hmm... Brother, why are you always late for dinner?"
"Eat first or talk first. Pick one," Alaric replied dryly as he took his seat.
Beatrice and Frederick had waited for Alaric to arrive before starting, but Daisy, as always, had already dug in, joined by Magnis, and all started their meal together.
In the span of a week, Magnis formed a bond with this family, a connection reminiscent of the one he shared with his long-dead mother and father, and also his separated sister, as they sat together to share a meal like this.
Now, with their permission, Magnis refers to Frederick as "father" and Beatrice as "mother."
Laughter filled the dining room as Magnis smiled brightly. Alaric in thought, "Looks like someone has found their family."