The Exiled Lord: My Maid is a Battle Goddess

Chapter 338: garrison

"Sister~ Your clothes are so pretty. Let me borrow them, okay?"

Gherlos wore an exaggeratedly innocent expression.

"Besides, you don’t even like wearing clothes. Why not donate them to someone who actually needs them?"

"Huh?"

At that moment, Jamie wished she could go back in time and slap herself twice.

The next day, the group arrived at the underground waterway with a Jamie who was barely clothed.

After descending below ground, they followed the dark, damp canal, slaughtering Night Demons along the way until they reached the dungeon beneath Ram Territory.

Noisy voices echoed from the distance.

"Our food won’t last much longer. Damn it, we’re finished. We should’ve fought to the death back then."

"Shut your mouth. You’ll attract the monsters and get everyone killed."

"Waaah... Aren’t you Imperial soldiers? Go out there and kill some monsters!"

"I don’t even have a stick. How exactly am I supposed to fight? With my spine? Her Majesty would never abandon us. Just be patient and wait."

Rosalia smashed apart the concealed stone door, and the group stepped into the enormous dungeon.

An odor hundreds of times worse than the fetid canal nearly knocked Phield unconscious.

The Imperial prisoners weren’t locked inside individual cells.

There were simply too many of them.

The rebels likely hadn’t bothered managing them at all.

Prisoners lay scattered throughout the dungeon in every direction. There were probably close to a thousand people.

They had clearly been imprisoned for over ten days.

Disgusting waste covered nearly every corner.

Only one relatively clean area remained in the corner, where over a dozen large crates of food were stacked and guarded by several men.

"Urgh..."

Phield nearly threw up.

Ever since entering territory controlled by the Shadow World Sect, his stomach and nose had suffered nonstop abuse.

"My God! Someone’s here! Has Her Majesty’s army reclaimed the territory?"

"Thank the Goddess! We were almost sacrificed."

People throughout the dungeon surged toward them, looking at Phield with excitement, confusion, or complete bewilderment.

"Are you Imperial garrison troops?"

Phield swept his gaze across the crowd.

They were much thinner and weaker than he had expected.

Their dull eyes made them look almost identical to the people living in the slums.

"That’s right. You’re not from the sect, are you? Those bastards threw us down here and only gave us a tiny amount of food."

"They even dragged people away for sacrifices on a regular basis. Those damned lunatics."

"Holy shit! Look at that woman. Why is she wearing so little?"

The crowd erupted into complaints and curses, mixed with all sorts of strange remarks.

Grinding her teeth, Jamie hurriedly stripped a tattered outfit from a corpse and put it on.

Only then did she stop the heated stares directed at her.

"We are not members of the sect."

Phield put on his most sincere expression and produced his noble insignia.

"I am Baron Phield Ross of the Ross Family."

"I came here specifically to rescue you."

"A Baron!"

The soldiers’ eyes widened instantly.

Excited, they dropped to their knees.

"Dear Baron, meeting you must be the Goddess’s will."

"You’re actually a Baron!"

Gherlos covered her mouth in shock.

"Huh? Do I not look like one?"

Phield scratched his head.

He had never specifically mentioned it before and simply assumed she already knew.

"There’s actually something this wonderful?"

Gherlos was so delighted that she started humming a tune.

"I never attended many noble balls because I wasn’t very sociable, so I had no idea."

Gherlos’s father had been a Baron.

As his daughter, she held no title of her own and would most likely have married a knight.

Although she had now awakened as a Divine Chosen, a Divine Chosen of Slaughter was hardly welcomed within the Empire.

In her eyes, she was the one marrying above her station.

Ignoring the brief interruption, Phield climbed onto a pile of debris and amplified his voice with mana.

"You have all been incorporated under my command."

"I, Phield Ross, Baron of Nightfall Domain and Lion of the Northern Frontier, am taking command of you."

"If anyone has objections, speak now."

"I object!"

A man dressed like an officer stepped forward with over a dozen soldiers.

"Sir, we have commoners here, but we also have Imperial border troops. You have no authority to absorb the garrison."

"The garrison belongs to Her Majesty. We serve only Her Majesty."

"Without her orders, you won’t be taking a single one of us."

"Oh?"

Rosalia looked thoroughly annoyed.

"So Her Majesty gave you permission to surrender?"

"Surrender was unavoidable."

The officer answered as though it were perfectly reasonable.

"And don’t think you can pressure me with your title."

"I am Baron Fresing. Although I currently hold only an honorary barony, I come from one of Griffin Province’s long-established military noble families."

"The Golden Thorn Sword Family."

As he straightened his back, an unmistakable aura of arrogance radiated from him.

"So what’s so special about the Golden Thorn Sword Family?"

Ophelia looked genuinely confused and immediately began asking around.

"Sigh. You’re not from the Empire, are you?"

Gherlos quietly explained.

"Any family with the word ’Golden’ in its name either has royal connections or possesses a Fifth-Tier Divine Chosen. They’re not easy to provoke."

Rosalia nodded.

"The family was originally called Thorn Sword."

"Her Majesty personally granted them the title Golden Thorn Sword."

"The same principle applies to cities."

"Cities with ’Golden’ in their names are usually provincial capitals or settlements personally honored by the royal family."

For example, Ross Family’s Golden Eagle City and the Golden Lion City of Northern Frontier Province were both provincial capitals.

Such cities absolutely required a Fifth-Tier Divine Chosen to oversee them.

Without one, they would lose the right to bear the name and be forced to revert to their original titles.

Phield was annoyed.

He had come here to rescue these people and hadn’t even tried showing off.

Yet this prisoner was already putting on airs.

An honorary baron was little more than an empty title.

The man didn’t even own a single piece of land.

"This is an extraordinary time."

"The sect is slaughtering Imperial citizens."

"As a true noble, I have a responsibility to protect the people of the Empire."

Phield’s voice rang with conviction.

"Whether you’re soldiers or civilians, you all come from Rick Province."

"Think about your families and your homes."

"Do you want to starve to death meaninglessly in this dungeon or be devoured by magical beasts?"

"Or do you want to follow me, slaughter those lunatics, and take back the women, wealth, and lands you’ve lost?"

Many soldiers immediately raised their heads.

They were visibly moved.

If Phield had started talking about honor and glory, most of them wouldn’t have cared.

But money, women, and land?

Now they were paying attention.

"Nobody move."

Fresing narrowed his eyes and snorted dismissively.

"If victory were possible, we wouldn’t be locked in here."

"And what exactly makes you think you can defeat the sect?"

"Because you’re incompetent."

Phield burst into laughter.

"The Empire spent a fortune building the border army, yet your entire force was wiped out before you even managed to send out a warning."

"And you’re still questioning me?"

"If I were you, I wouldn’t even dare open my mouth after bringing such shame upon my family."

"You bastard! This wasn’t my fault!"

The officer nearly exploded with rage.

"The soldiers were useless!"

"And Ram Territory didn’t have any Divine Chosen support!"