In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

His confidence was evident, but Michael remained vigilant.

"Good. Were there any losses among the livestock?" Michael asked.

The merchant brightened.

"Some of the animals did die along the way, but we had an equal number of births. The numbers have actually increased, so there's no change in value."

Michael nodded in satisfaction.

"That's excellent news. And the herders—are they here as well?"

The merchant gestured toward a group of men standing a short distance away, dressed in vests and rugged clothing.

"Yes, my lord. They are shepherds and cattle herders."

"Are they all hired by your caravan?"

"I employed them to accompany us on this journey. Do you need them for your estate?" the merchant asked, his shrewdness evident.@@novelbin@@

Michael smiled. "Indeed. While we do have some shepherds among the villagers, their numbers are insufficient for the increased livestock. We'll need more workers."

The merchant clapped his hands and gestured for the herders to step forward.

"What can we do for you, my lord?" asked an older man, seemingly the leader, as he respectfully removed his hat.

"If you have no other commitments, how about temporary employment on my estate? I'll pay you the same rate as the caravan."

The leader hesitated, a faint tension in his voice as he replied.

"Well… we don't have any immediate plans, but taking this job means losing an entire season of work. If you can provide assurances…"

"How about I hire you until this time next year? All of you. If things go well, you're welcome to bring your families and settle here permanently," Michael proposed, his tone calm and inviting.

The herders exchanged glances, murmuring among themselves. The offer was fair and practical, showing both generosity and foresight.

After a brief discussion, the leader's expression brightened.

"We accept, my lord. And you truly mean it—that we can bring our families to live here later?"

The merchant interjected, his voice stern.

"Do you think a nobleman like Sir Michael would go back on his word? Show some respect!"

Realizing his mistake, the leader scratched his head sheepishly.

"My apologies, my lord. I'm just an ignorant man."

Michael chuckled.

"No need to apologize. It's natural to have questions. Skilled shepherds like you will be most welcome here. We'll allocate homes and farmland based on your family size."

But then Michael's tone turned serious, his gaze sharp.

"However, if even one of you causes trouble within the estate, you'll all be punished and expelled."

The herders tensed but nodded in agreement. For laborers like them, the opportunity to settle permanently with land and homes was a rare stroke of luck.

"Of course, my lord. We're all honest folk," the leader assured him.

The merchant backed them up.

"I wouldn't have hired them if they weren't reliable. They're all members of the herders' guild."

Satisfied, Michael nodded. "Good. Follow the soldiers to the highlands. There's a nearby lake and plenty of grasslands, perfect for grazing."

His tone softened as he added,

"Set up fences and let the livestock roam. I trust you'll handle it well."

The herders responded enthusiastically and began leading the animals toward the highlands under the soldiers' guidance.

Behind them, the serf families started murmuring among themselves, their apprehension clear. The merchant stepped forward to calm them.

"Silence, all of you! This man is now your master—a noble heir to the promising Crassus family. Serve him well, and your lives will prosper!"

The serfs hesitated before slowly kneeling, their movements stiff and uncertain. Being from the populous southern regions, submission seemed ingrained in them. Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire

Michael observed them and spoke gently, avoiding excessive intimidation.

"That's enough. Merchant, here's a letter for my father. Present it at Crassus Castle to receive your payment."

Taking the letter, the merchant bowed deeply.

"Thank you, my lord. I'll take my leave now. Don't worry about the serfs—they've been trained on the way here. They'll obey without issue."

Relief was evident on the merchant's face as he departed, pleased with the smooth transaction.

"By the way, did you see any caravans transporting magical beasts along the way?" Michael asked.

The merchant paused to think before clapping his hands.

"Ah, yes! A few days ago, I passed a caravan transporting magical beasts. They must be headed here."

"Good to know. They'll arrive soon. Thank you for the information."

"Not at all, my lord. I'll see you again if fortune permits," the merchant said, departing with a polite bow.

Michael turned his attention back to the serfs. They looked exhausted, their sunken faces and hollow eyes bearing the weight of their arduous journey. Clearly, they needed rest and care before beginning work.

He instructed the soldiers to organize the serfs into groups of 100. Some resisted, fearing separation from their families, but quieted when reassured they'd reunite in the village.

From Miaomiao's back, Michael watched the long line of serfs winding through the gorge. Even with 22 casualties among the elderly and infirm, the survivors bore clear signs of the journey's hardships. Clutching their meager belongings, they trudged forward, their eyes filled with uncertainty.

Michael, having arrived in the village ahead of them, called for Julian and Arnan.

"The livestock has been sent to the highlands with the shepherds. The serfs will arrive shortly," Michael informed them.

"They'll be exhausted. It's best to let them rest first," Arnan said, his tone filled with compassion for the weary serfs.

"I agree. Assign them small tents by family and provide proper meals," Michael said.

Julian raised a practical concern.

"Shall we place their homes near the farms? Repairs there may take some time."

"Yes," Michael agreed after a moment's thought. "I don't want them living in makeshift shacks or hovels like before. Let's reinforce the buildings properly during the repairs, and ensure they have plenty of food."

His reasoning was pragmatic—poor living conditions led to disease, which in turn reduced productivity. A baseline standard of living was essential for maximizing efficiency. Humans weren't machines, after all.

Misinterpreting his practicality as altruism, Arnan looked at Michael with admiration.

What a kind and noble leader, he thought. A true ruler worthy of loyalty.

Arnan silently vowed to support Michael with unwavering devotion.