Lord: Starting with Summoning the Regular Army of Earth

Chapter 85 Old Friend (Please Subscribe)

With the conflict resolved, Conrad dared not slack off and continued to "recruit laborers," fearing that those guys might return for revenge. So he quickly finished recruiting and left the area.

Because of the recent turmoil, these refugees realized that Conrad was not like those heartless slave traders, and they had more trust and expectations of him. As a result, many people gathered around him, wanting to fight for a glimmer of hope for their lives.

Conrad prioritized recruiting those with a skill, regardless of gender, followed by ordinary villagers and young women with labor capacity.

After all, Emberstone Ridge needs more than just labor; it also needs young women who can bear children and add to its natural population.

"Sir, may I ask for permission?" A man of unusual height and broad frame walked up to Conrad. He was wearing an old military uniform that was almost tattered to shreds, with a worn-out leather vest over it. He had a hideous scar on his face that ran from his left forehead to his right cheek, making him look very fierce.

But what is most striking is his left hand—not a flesh and blood hand, but a crudely made simple hook claw made of wood and iron bars, tightly secured to the severed wrist with a leather strap.

"You were a soldier?" Conrad immediately recognized the man's past identity.

"Yes, I was a veteran of the Kingdom's Northern Legion. My name is Eloi!"

Conrad nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. The Northern Legion had been stationed in the Frost Mountains for many years, serving as the front line against the orcs and savages. Those who could retire alive were all battle-hardened veterans.

"What?" Conrad asked, glancing at the severed arm.

"Kill. With a knife, with a bow, or even with this hook." Aloy shook his iron hook, his tone flat. "Right now—I can probably still dig and carry wood. I'll do anything as long as I get food."

Conrad did not discriminate against the man with one hand; on the contrary, he thought he was more capable of fighting than someone with both hands intact.

And since Emberstone Ridge would need someone to assist him in leading his troops, he solemnly wrote on the roster: "Former Northern Legion soldier - Aloy".

"Thank you, sir!" A glimmer of light finally appeared in Eloi's dull eyes as he respectfully gave a Northern Legion salute.

Soon, Conrad and his team had selected all the suitable candidates, a total of thirty-six people, including the young woman whose grandfather had been killed by slave traders.

Although she was only sixteen years old, in the Kingdom of Augustus, many people her age were already married and had children, and were considered adults.

Those who were not selected were mostly elderly people, very young children, or people suffering from serious illnesses.

But just as Conrad was about to organize everyone to pack their bags and leave, the girl Lina came up again with her younger brother, then knelt down with a thud, her eyes glistening with tears and pleading: "Merciful sir, please take us with you! I can do anything. Don't look down on me because I'm small, I'm very strong! If all else fails, please—please just take my brother. He'll grow up to be a man and he'll be able to do a lot of work to repay you."

Lena's words touched Conrad's heart. Although, according to the plan, they needed laborers who could be put into construction immediately, such a child and a seriously ill mother were obviously a burden.

But looking into Lina's eyes, filled with desperate longing and a sense of responsibility beyond her years, a crack appeared in his hardened defenses.

He was silent for a moment, then whispered to old Sam, "Give her a piece of bread and go see her mother. If—"

If her mother can still be saved, take her along too.

This was beyond the original plan, but some things are far more important than benefits and losses.

Just like when he chose to protect Matthew and follow him to Ember Ridge.

Lina could hardly believe her ears. She froze for a moment, then kowtowed repeatedly.

Conrad grabbed her thin shoulders and held her up.

"Get up, child. Take us to see your mother."

Hope is sometimes a life-saving loaf of coarse barley, or a well-intentioned decision that goes against the rules.

Lena, holding her brother's hand, led Conrad and old Sam through the messy shack area to a low shed.

The shed was dimly lit. A emaciated young woman was huddled in a corner on a pile of hay, her eyes closed, her face ashen, and her breathing so faint it was almost imperceptible. It was Lina's mother.

"Mommy! Mommy! Wake up! Kind adults have come! We have food!" Lina rushed to her mother's side, calling out in a tearful voice, carefully breaking off a small piece of the relatively soft coarse barley cake that Conrad had given her, and trying to feed it to her mother.

But the mother did not react at all.

Conrad, being experienced, immediately knelt down and carefully examined the woman's pupils and pulse. He then gently pried open her mouth and slowly fed her the water-soaked biscuit.

It can be determined that the woman was not seriously ill, but rather extremely weak due to prolonged hunger.

Conrad gave her some water, and the woman's throat bobbed with difficulty, letting out a weak groan. Her eyelids trembled, and then she instinctively chewed her food and slowly ate it.

As she ate, she seemed to regain a little strength and opened her eyes with difficulty. She looked blankly at the strangers surrounding her, and finally her gaze fell on the two children.

"Lina—Ark—" Her voice was as soft as a whisper, yet it carried a reassuring gentleness.

"Mom! You're awake! That's wonderful!" Lina cried tears of joy and hugged her mother tightly. "It was this kind knight who saved us! He promised to take us away to a place where we can have enough to eat!"

Upon hearing this, the woman's expression changed, and she looked at Conrad and old Sam with some wariness.

Conrad quickly explained their origins.

Lina was also clever; she noticed her mother's worries and explained things to Conrad, mentioning that they had just driven away the slave traders and that Uncle Eloi and the others would be going with them.

Hearing this, the woman felt much relieved. She struggled to sit up, looking gratefully at Conrad, and tried to bow: "Thank you so much, sir, for saving my life!"

"No need for formalities," Conrad said, raising his hand to stop her. His gaze, however, inadvertently fell on some writing on the ground beside him. His eyes flashed, and he looked at the woman, asking, "Who wrote these?"

"I wrote it. My mother taught me how to write it," Lina replied.

"You can read?" Conrad looked at the woman with some surprise.

"Yes, sir—my name is Ella. I used to be educated and helped with bookkeeping for my family's shop, but my family fell into poverty after my father's accident—" the woman explained briefly.

"Very good, that's a skill too!" Conrad said with a smile. A literate woman who can keep accounts is worth more than a strong laborer among the illiterate vagrants.

Although many of the lord's summoned creatures have now mastered the common language and writing system and can perform many clerical jobs.

But in Conrad's view, summoned creatures are summoned creatures after all, and are not subjects. If there are literate subjects who can keep accounts, they will definitely be of great use in the future.

"Very good, Ella, your abilities can be very useful. Eat something quickly, and once you've regained your strength, let's set off."

Soon after, Ella regained her strength after eating, and then took her two children with Conrad and the others to the town.

Conrad planned to buy several wooden carts in town to transport the refugees, since the journey back to Emberstone Ridge was not short, and using horse-drawn carts would be faster.

However, shortly after Conrad entered the town, a figure silently approached him.

The man wore an extremely worn-out hooded cloak, its original color almost unrecognizable. He was hunched over, and his steps were as light as a ghost's.

Using the crowd as cover, he approached Conrad and, in a very low voice, with an incredulous tremor, softly called out, "Conrad."

Conrad's body stiffened abruptly. The voice—though hoarse and dry—carried a sense of familiarity etched into his very bones.

He turned his head sharply, his sharp gaze piercing through the shadow of the hood and landing on the other person's face.

It was a weathered, gaunt face, but those deep-set eyes and the familiar, old arrow scar on his left brow struck Conrad like a thunderbolt.

"Auston?" Conrad almost lost his voice, but the other party immediately gestured for him to be quiet, clearly indicating that his identity was inconvenient.

Conrad pulled Austin behind a pile of abandoned barrels by the roadside, and under the shadows, whispered urgently, "Auston, by the light of day, it really is you! What are you doing here? And—and in this state?!"

Looking at his old friend's haggard face and tattered clothes, he felt a surge of shock and sorrow.

How did Austin Ironrock, once known as the "Stone Shield" of the Royal Knights for his bravery and optimism, end up like this?

A complex mix of emotions—excitement, shame, and relief—flashed across Austin's cloudy eyes. He gripped Conrad's arm tightly and whispered, "Conrad—my brother—I never thought I'd see you again—" His voice choked with emotion, but he quickly suppressed it, glancing warily around the room before speaking rapidly, "No time to explain, brother. I'm in deep trouble and desperately need your help!"

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