Lord of Rot

Leech knew some things, but not that much.

He had transmigrated, but his brain wasn’t loaded with Wikipedia. For the waterwheel’s construction, he only provided the concept; the actual research and manufacturing relied entirely on the dwarf craftsman. Luckily, this master craftsman caught on immediately. After countless experiments, the waterwheel was more or less complete.

Leech looked up at the sky. It was noon, time to eat.

The ones bringing food to the slaves were hired farmhands. It was bran-filled black bread and hot soup with beads of oil floating on top. Leech glanced over. It wasn’t exactly nutritious, but it could fill their stomachs and replenish their energy.

Others believed Porcupine Territory was the lord’s property, that the food was the lord’s property. In truth, the population itself was the real asset.

Even if the land couldn’t support them, Leech would keep taking in people, endlessly!

And even so, he still thought it was too slow.

"My Lord!" The maid who had come to distribute the food greeted him timidly.

She was the tallest maid in the castle, but in stark contrast to her height, she was very timid.

It was Leech’s order to have the maid be responsible for distributing food every day. This could effectively prevent anyone from lining their own pockets. If someone still wanted to exploit a loophole, there was nothing to be done. He couldn’t watch everyone; that was the overseer’s job.

For the Lord, what mattered most was that the overall plan stayed on track. If someone deliberately dragged their feet, they were an enemy, and he wouldn’t mind sending an enemy to the embrace of the Four Gods.

"Good work," Leech nodded, walking over to watch her distribute the bread.

The working slaves stood in a long line, with some space between each of them.

They knew the Lord had arrived. They kept their heads down and quietly received their food.

A female slave walked up, took her bread, had her soup ladled, and turned to leave.

CRACK!

The whip struck the ground. The farmhand in charge of overseeing them shouted, "Say thank you!"

The slave flinched, and half the hot soup spilled from her bowl. She quickly turned her head and shouted, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Leech watched this scene but didn’t intervene. There was no need for him to.

"Cao Ya, is everyone in your family as tall as you?" he asked casually.

The tall maid said, "No, My Lord. No one in my family is particularly tall. Their height is quite average."

’A recessive gene, then?’

"I remember you have a brother?"

"He’s only five," the tall maid said. "You can’t tell yet, but maybe he’ll be as tall as me."

She had always been self-conscious about her height and was bullied for it since childhood. Her life before moving to Porcupine Territory with her parents had been even bleaker; otherwise, she wouldn’t have developed such a personality.

"He’ll grow up to be a tall, strong man..."

After exchanging a few more words, Leech turned and left. But after walking a short distance, he noticed the dwarf craftsman beside him kept looking back over and over, as if something had glued his eyes to the spot.

"Fla, what’s wrong?" He thought the dwarf craftsman was acting a bit strange.

The dwarf craftsman said, "She’s so enchanting, My Lord. Is her name Cao Ya?"

"Uh..."

Leech looked at the dwarf, then back at the tall maid in the distance. ’Who the hell is playing matchmaker here?’ he thought.

Compared to a normal person, a dwarf was already a half-ling. If he stood next to the tall maid, he wouldn’t even come up to her waist.

’So he’s into amazons.’

"Fla, I won’t stand in the way of anyone’s marriage," Leech said. "And I won’t stop you from liking her. But I hope that Cao Ya agrees of her own free will, and isn’t coerced."

Everyone knew the status of a craftsman in Porcupine Territory. Many people were eager to curry favor with them. If the dwarf wanted to use force, it was likely that Cao Ya and her parents wouldn’t dare to refuse.

Fla nodded repeatedly. "I will try to get to know her. We men of the Golden Wheat Field are very faithful in love."

Leech glanced at the tall maid distributing food in the distance, then turned around. "I should get back to my lunch, Fla."

"Enjoy your meal, my Lord." The dwarf bowed.

Having ridden back on his horse, Leech sat at his dining table, unable to stop himself from marveling at the wonders of the world.

But on second thought, it didn’t seem to be a problem. There was no rule that said a dwarf couldn’t like a tall woman.

He guessed the tall maid might not be willing to marry a dwarf. Hmm, then again... A craftsman was a skilled professional, a high earner. Forget Fla being a dwarf; even if he were in his seventies, women would likely still be willing to marry him.

The pork chop and potato stew for lunch was very much to Leech’s liking. He praised it generously, hoping the male servant, Pitchfork, would pass on the message.

Seafood was a good thing, but eating too much could cause gout. Still, there was no need to worry about the people of Porcupine Territory gathering too much of it, because everyone knew it belonged to the Lord of the castle.

At night, Leech went to the gravestone in the garden and opened the crypt.

At the T-junction, the pungent smell of Magic Antiseptic wafted from the left.

He turned and went left.

Corpse after corpse was laid out in coffins.

They had been felling a lot of trees lately, so there was no need to worry about a lack of raw materials for making coffins.

The first coffin held the corpse of the Ironhoof Knight. He wore no suitable armor; the set he wore in life had surely been sold off, and finding another wouldn’t be easy. His subordinate, Black Ears, only knew how to forge farm tools. Leech hadn’t even considered asking him to make armor.

The second coffin: the black-haired slave, "Dog," a corpse with master-level throwing skills. Each corpse had different characteristics. For example, using the Ironhoof Knight for throwing was far less effective than using the black-haired slave. But as long as Leech focused his control, any corpse could become a master thrower.

When operating them while distracted, he had to work within their inherent strengths and weaknesses.

The third coffin was empty. In the fourth and fifth coffins lay the shriveled corpses of Earthlings. Just like the previous two corpses, they were submerged in Magic Antiseptic.

He lit a torch. Even though he had the same night vision as an Earthling, he still preferred to have light. The Red-haired Corpse Ghost, wrapped in that black cloak, appeared. It was a Corpse Ghost that possessed intelligence and was not afraid of light.

"Come here," Leech beckoned.

The Red-haired Earthling thought sluggishly for a moment before understanding what he meant, then walked over.

’Its reaction speed is faster than before,’ Leech thought in surprise. ’Does this mean a Corpse Ghost is like a blank slate? Aside from its instincts, does everything else need to be taught and cultivated?’

Previously, the Red-haired Earthling would have to think for a long time after a single command. This kind of visible progress couldn’t help but make Leech pleasantly surprised.

’Maybe we’ll be able to communicate more easily in the future!’

He tried giving a command: "Take off your clothes."

The Red-haired Earthling didn’t react.

"Take off your clothes," he said, pointing at the cloak it was wearing.

This time, it reacted. The Red-haired Earthling took off its cloak, standing naked before Leech.

Due to the influence of the Griffin Grass’s wondrous Magic Power, it wasn’t as shriveled as the other two Earthling corpses. Reaching out and giving a light pinch, he felt its taut muscles.

Ignoring its ugly face, its physique alone was stunning enough to make it a knockout—from the back.

After a careful inspection, he found no wounds on its body.

’This is my very first Corpse Ghost. I have to take good care of it.’

"You need to soak every day," Leech said, pointing at the coffin. "Soak in the Magic Antiseptic, understand?"

The Earthling dazedly returned to the coffin and lay down inside.

Fortunately, it was a Corpse Ghost, already dead, so it naturally had no so-called joys or sorrows. If a living person were locked in the crypt every day, they would have gone mad long ago.

Leech, meanwhile, turned to start making the Magic Antiseptic from his materials.

The stuff wasn’t expensive to make, but it was used up pretty quickly.

The next morning, he got dressed with the help of his male servant, Pitchfork.

The castle had already been cleaned from top to bottom and was spotless.

Leech sat at the dining table and picked up his spoon.

A hot soup was essential on a winter morning. He was the one who had taught the cook how to make egg drop soup; it was quick and easy. It was just a shame there were no steamed buns. He was considering teaching the cook how to make those too.

The butler approached. "Good morning, my Lord."

His movements were impeccable.

"Good morning, Simon. What is it?"

Ever since Gelan and Joe arrived, the butler’s duties had been reduced to managing the castle’s internal affairs.

"The Groom says your fiery-maned mare is pregnant."