A moment later, Elvie jogged up with a box in her hands.
"You called for me?"
"Yes," I said, gesturing toward the direction of the village. "I want you to bring these—" I pointed to the boxes stacked by the supply tent, "—coffee sachets, and some of the hotdog packs. Deliver them to the villagers. Show them how to cook it. Keep it friendly."
She blinked. "Hotdogs, my lord?"
I chuckled. "Yes, hotdogs. And coffee. Tell them it's my hometown food. It's good morale."
"I'm not sure they'll understand the concept of instant coffee," she said with a nervous grin, but her eyes sparkled with determination. "But I'll make them love it."
"That's the spirit."
"Show them how to mix it. And tell the children they can have hotdogs on sticks and mamon if they help clean the village square."
She saluted playfully. "On it!"
As she left, I took a deep breath and looked around.
Robinson Territory, I reminded myself.
It still looked like a forgotten corner of the kingdom, with its cracked dirt roads and its patchy farms—but already, the atmosphere had changed. The smell of breakfast. The sound of people working together, talking, laughing...
Even the villagers, previously suspicious and cautious, were beginning to gather curiously around Elvie and the others, drawn by the strange new foods and the warmth of cooperation.
After breakfast, with the smell of hotdogs still lingering in the air and mamon and coffee warming bellies, I watched from the manor steps as the villagers began to gather in the open yard. Children peered curiously from behind their legs, and the older folks exchanged wary glances. Still, they came—curiosity was a powerful motivator.
I had Elvie and Felix arrange the plastic chairs I had discreetly purchased the night before through the Guardian System. Sleek, white, and impossibly clean compared to the mud-caked village surroundings. When the villagers saw them, they stared like they were crafted from marble and magic.
One woman even whispered, "What sort of alchemy is this?"
I smiled and waved them in. "Don't worry—just take a seat. We've got a lot to talk about."
With some hesitation, they obeyed, sitting down one by one, plastic legs creaking under unfamiliar weight. The chair legs sank slightly into the dirt, but they held—sturdy and steady, like everything I intended to build here.
Once everyone had settled—around a hundred villagers and a few of my companions—I stepped up on a makeshift wooden platform we had fashioned from old crates and a tarp.
I cleared my throat, speaking loudly and firmly.
"Thank you all for coming. I know many of you don't know me, and I understand if you're wary. I'm not just here as a noble or the King's new baron—I'm here because I want to build something with all of you."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
I raised my hand and continued, "First thing's first—this manor," I said, pointing behind me to the decrepit wooden structure, "is falling apart. It's not a home. It's a hazard."
From beside the crowd, Igor raised his voice. "My lord, if I may—we should build a new one. Stronger. Stone base, wide enough for meetings, supplies, and a proper command room."
The old bald village leader, standing with arms crossed, gave a grunt of approval. "We've lived under that roof too long. It creaks like a dying beast. Let's tear it down and build fresh."
Several villagers nodded in agreement.
I smiled. "Perfect. Then we'll start from scratch. The manor rebuild will begin today."
Cheers broke out, cautious at first, but genuine.
"Second," I said, lifting a hand to hush them, "we need protection. This territory is far too exposed. The forest to the east, the dungeon rumours to the south..."
A woman crossed herself while a boy clutched his father's hand.
"I want a massive concrete wall around the perimeter. Ten feet high. Strong enough to withstand any threat—be it beast, bandit, or worse."
One of Igor's foremen, a burly man with a bushy beard and arms like tree trunks, stepped forward. "M'lord, with what materials? We've no quarry near enough, and no forge for proper rebar or framework."
I turned to him confidently. "I'll supply the materials—northern imports." I winked and saw Miss Agnes smirk, arms crossed beside Elvie. "All I ask is your effort."
Then I made the announcement that truly stirred them.
"Anyone who joins the construction teams—for the manor or the wall—will be paid twenty silver coins per day, plus three full meals. No hidden fees. No taxes—for now."
For a moment, silence.
Then, thunderous applause.
Villagers stood and clapped; even the children who didn't quite understand started cheering. A man clutched his cap and wept quietly into it. I hadn't expected that.
Elvie leaned toward me with a grin. "You just became the most loved baron in the kingdom."
*****
The next week blurred with activity. Miss Agnes, ever efficient, helped me send a magical message orb through the merchant guild network.
"I've informed the king's guildmaster personally," she said, tapping the orb once it pulsed blue. "Expect a reply in a day or two."
And sure enough, three days later, we heard horns on the southern path.
A convoy appeared on the horizon—two royal engineers, ten seasoned builders, and behind them, twenty slaves. But these weren't the broken, ragged ones I'd seen in the cities. They stood straight. Alert. There was hope in their eyes.
A young woman stepped forward, bowing deeply. "We were promised freedom in exchange for service. We wish to stay, my lord. If you'll have us."
I looked them over and gave a firm nod. "You'll be paid, fed, and housed. If you work with us, you'll have land of your own. We will build this place together."
And just like that, our numbers swelled. From the original 150 villagers to over 230 souls, including Felix's family, the newly arrived Kael and Sylphy's family and some of Felix's friends in the dungeon, including the twin beastkin, who arrived that very evening with waggons of luggage and warm embraces.
The village square was alive. Children ran past tents and waggons, and masons began measuring the ground, and the scent of hotdog stew (don't ask) wafted from the cookfire. Then I received rewards from hidden tasks. In fact, I've received many simple tasks from the Guardian system which earned me many rewards like discount coupons, sales, and many more from my online shopping.
****
That night, as the campfire flickered and soft chatter echoed through the newly erected tents, I sat cross-legged inside my own, illuminated by the glow of my Guardian Screen. The flicks and swipes of my fingers echoed like a silent symphony of progress. I scrolled through the inventory—tents, bedding, cookware, and crates of food essentials. One by one, I purchased them: sacks of flour, rice, cuts of cured meat, barrels of spices, dried herbs, and other staples necessary for a growing settlement. Also, I purchased a soldier uniform for the territory guards. A pair of semi-army combat shirts, tactical and cargo pants with boots. A sexy uniform and flat shoes for the maids. I smirked at the idea of the uniform I've purchased for them, like those anime I often watched that earned me scolding from Elvie and Ella but a thumbs up from the boys. Also, I purchased a long-sleeve shirt, shoes and a hard hat for the construction guys. Plus more tents and sleeping supplies, boxes of extra shirts, beautiful office attire for Elvie, Ella, Sylphy and Miss Agnes and more grocery supplies for the rest of the villagers.
I was thankful that the previous months selling my wares earned hundreds of gold coins. I can now easily purchase earth items without worry.
Outside, I could already hear the quiet rustle of excitement as supplies materialised near the camp's storage area.
"I'll get more cooks to help!" one woman exclaimed. Her hands were still dusty from preparing flatbread, but her eyes gleamed with purpose.
"I can chop onions!" shouted a skinny boy, no older than ten, raising his hand with pride.
"You'll get a warm meal every day if you help," I said as I stepped outside, addressing the growing crowd. "And you'll learn skills that'll help you forever." The murmurs of approval warmed my chest. They were eager, not just for food—but for purpose.