*****

Unlike when the talk of the new business first arose, the people of the slums were now incredibly busy. The able-bodied men had no time for idle complaints; every morning, they dispersed to the fields across the four districts.

It was because the Margrave’s family was as serious as could be, defying the initial assumption that this was merely a noble’s whim or a passing fancy.

(...Hiring us for real... those people are actually crazy.)

At first, out of concern that they needed daily cash, they were paid on a day-to-day basis. The amount—which they had assumed was a lie—turned out to be the truth. The pay was better than ordinary day labor, and they even got delicious meals. The next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.

Thinking the offer would surely stop if their numbers grew too large, they had hesitated—but when they brought a crowd along, the management was actually pleased. Then, they were given even more work. It was unbelievable.

Claiming there weren't enough hands, even off-duty knights looking for a meal would join them to till the soil and spread manure. Then they would till again. Seeing proud knights gripping hoes and scattering fertilizer had made them doubt their eyes a long time ago. Now, they were used to it. Having helped out since they were young, those knights were actually quite good at it.

Even the local farmers helped out without looking at them through prejudiced eyes, sometimes bringing refreshments. It was strangely comfortable—so much so that it made them feel restless.

They had intended to play some tricks, but there was never an opening. Before they knew it, as they worked seriously, they began to feel a sense of attachment and fulfillment. The people of the slums were surprised by the changing state of their own hearts.

(We can't lose. This is our job.)

Once that thought took hold, they changed remarkably.

By the time they tumbled into bed, they were so exhausted they had no strength left for heavy drinking with cheap booze, nor the energy for criminal schemes. Before they knew it, it was morning again. And even that felt strangely refreshing.

It was laughable. It all felt a bit silly. Themselves, the Margrave’s family, the knights, the farmers—everyone.

As they ate well, moved well, and slept well, the number of people whose physical condition improved began to grow.

(...I see. It really... can be done...)

Straining to act tough was a waste of time. This paid better than being rowdy or getting into trouble. It wasn’t that they particularly wanted to act like thugs; they were simply preoccupied with survival and had no leeway for anything else. They had only resorted to crime to protect themselves and their companions. They just wanted to live a good life. They just wanted to escape this bottomless swamp.

Realizing the normalcy of living a decent life, they began to feel both embarrassed and proud of the fact that they thought these people weren't so bad.

Meanwhile, the children, the women, and those with physical disabilities worked together on meal preparation, various chores, material production, and training on the market rates for buying food and supplies.

The other day, they practiced making sauerkraut.

Since they were dealing with food meant for sale, they had to handle things with care. Contrary to their expectations, there was no forced labor; instead, the work was focused entirely on safety and reliability. When they first heard the representatives were being summoned by the nobles, they thought they would be worked like slaves.

Of course, they had heard the explanation beforehand, but they simply couldn't believe it. It had turned out to be a complete letdown—in a good way.

Even the children received proper wages suited to their tasks rather than just small change for errands. Since the women worked at the church or the fortress, there was no danger, allowing them to work with more peace of mind than ever before. Above all, it was best for those with disabilities. To have access to a decent job and be paid a proper wage was, they felt, truly wonderful.

There was no being punched or kicked, no false accusations or sarcasm. How many people felt a sense of salvation, feeling for the first time that "I can actually do this"?

Sometimes a military doctor passing by would check on them, claiming they were "just curious." Everyone suspected "passing by" was just a convenient excuse and that the young lady had begged them to perform the examinations.

(How grateful we are...)

That young lady who had shouted down Dan. The tiny commander who was said to be the mastermind behind this business.

At first, they thought it was some kind of joke or perhaps a way to pad her reputation for a future marriage. But after seeing the young lady—smaller than anyone else—actually giving instructions, demonstrating how it’s done, and making changes to improve things, they couldn't call it a lie. Because it was undeniably, purely reality.

Everyone knew the Lord was the "Demon General." If he hadn't come to Azenda twenty years ago, what would have happened to this land? It likely would have been overrun in an irreparable tragedy, meeting a miserable end.

He was a noble so high-ranking he was among the top few in the entire Kingdom of Ascald, let alone Azenda. And his young lady...

Normally, she would be someone who laughed while beautifully dressed, never even noticing their existence, let alone knowing of it. Yet, she ate the same food they did and dealt with them with sincerity. She spoke casually and laughed with a natural warmth.

The young lady, the Lord, and his son. Even their attendants. It seemed ordinary, but it was anything but.

(We must make this a success! We cannot disappoint the young lady!)

To live decently. To live a normal life. Before they knew it, the people of the slums had sworn that vow in their hearts.

*****

Note: The birth of Magnolia Cult.

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