Starting from Ainz Ooal Gown, simultaneously traveling through time

Watching Kabu's departing figure, Leylin did not immediately begin working. Instead, he sat back down in his chair, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table as he fell into thought.

"This reaction...could it really be some kind of hidden effect of resurrection magic?"

He couldn't help but think of the plot in the original work, where after Ainz Ooal Gown resurrected Ningya, the loyalty of that paladin girl almost soared to the level of a fanatic.

Although Ningya already worshipped Ainz Ooal Gown.

But is it possible that the resurrection magic in this world itself establishes a special connection at the soul level, greatly increasing the recipient's affinity and dependence on the caster?

"...No, it shouldn't be." Leylin quickly dismissed the guess.

This kind of setting is not usually found in game mechanics, and such a phenomenon has never been recorded in the long history of the real world.

More likely, these soldiers were already loyal to the kingdom and the royal family, although this loyalty was unstable.

After all, people are rational beings, and it's impossible for someone to be unconditionally loyal to another.

But after experiencing a near-death experience and being personally saved by his lord, this loyalty underwent a qualitative change under the extreme emotional impact, transforming into a fanatical faith.

That is, unconditional loyalty to a person.

"Sigh, this is something that could have been solved by giving out some gold coins..." Leylin rubbed his temples, feeling a strange burden.

With a thought, he immersed his consciousness in his personal space and began to take stock of the inventory.

Fortunately, we have enough reserves.

The weapons and equipment he had previously forged in large quantities were intended to gradually improve the combat effectiveness of his directly subordinate troops.

Now, it's just a matter of bringing the plan forward and releasing it in a way that's more in line with the current atmosphere.

"Thanks to the selfless dedication of my goblin and orc friends, we have no shortage of raw materials and experimental data." Leylin thought to himself as he casually took out a longsword.

The sword has smooth lines and a matte, flowing luster, with just the right weight and balance.

He casually twirled his sword, its cold light gleaming.

"Hopefully these weapons will help them shed less blood in future battles."

..............................

As Leylin walked out of the conference room and prepared to head to the square, the scene before him made him pause slightly.

The corridor outside the gate and even the road leading to the square were densely packed with soldiers.

They did not make a fuss, but spontaneously lined up and stood at attention. When Leylin appeared, countless burning gazes instantly focused on him.

"Your Highness!" someone called out first.

Immediately, a unified, thunderous roar spread out in layers:

"Your Highness!"

"Your Highness!"

"Your Highness!"

His voice was filled with barely suppressed excitement and reverence.

Lei Lin raised his hand and pressed down lightly.

As if a mute button had been pressed, the boiling sound subsided in an instant, leaving only the faint sound of the wind rubbing against the armor. All the soldiers held their breath and stared intently at him.

"Now, those whose names are called, step forward." Leylin's voice was clear and steady.

Holding the list, Kabu stepped to one side and began to read aloud: "Centurion Greg of the First Infantry Battalion! In the defense of the city walls, he led his troops to repel three climbing assaults, personally slaying seven orc warriors and consolidating the eastern defensive line!"

A stocky, middle-aged officer with a scarred face strode forward, knelt on one knee before Leylin, and bowed his head.

Leylin took a straight-bladed longsword with a simple handguard from the weapon rack he had temporarily moved to his side.

The blade is not ornate, but the subtle shimmer and unique ripples on the edge reveal its extraordinary nature.

He held the sword out horizontally with both hands and handed it to Greg.

"Your courage and command protected the lives of your comrades. May this sword help you to slay enemies and break through enemy lines in the future, and protect the homeland and people behind you."

Greg took a deep breath, raised both hands above his head, and respectfully accepted the longsword.

It felt slightly heavy in my hand, and a strange, icy sensation spread along my arm, as if the sword resonated subtly with me.

"Thank you for your generous gift, Your Highness! I will use this sword to pledge my loyalty to you to the death!"

Similar scenes kept repeating themselves.

The weapons distributed by Leylin were mainly high-quality [lower-grade] magical weapons, with a level of around 10.

This was not because he was stingy, but because he had thought it through carefully.

Most soldiers are within this skill range; they cannot fully master more advanced weapons, which may instead become a burden.

These weapons are made from very ordinary raw materials, just steel that can be found everywhere, but they are tempered by the fire of the [King's Flame] and forged using ancient Valyrian incantations.

Although it did not use dragon fire forging or blood magic sacrifice, nor did it add complex alchemical arrays or elven runes.

However, it already possesses the basic characteristics of being "sturdy" and "sharp," and its durability far exceeds that of ordinary steel weapons.

In terms of quality, it should have the characteristic of "Durability 3".

With his current strength, he can produce even the highest-grade and the legacy-grade weapons and items. To produce low-grade weapons and items like the lower-grade ones is a piece of cake.

Because the process has been simplified and the material is readily available steel, Leylin is easy to manufacture and has already achieved small-scale mass production.

These weapons, which he considered standard equipment, would probably cause Rayleigh in the Game of Thrones world great distress if he saw them.

Valyrian steel swords, revered as national treasures in Westeros, are being given away for free here—it's an absolute waste!

Lei Lin awarded ranks based on the magnitude of his battle achievements:

Those who achieve outstanding military exploits will be awarded a Valyrian steel sword.

Those with outstanding military achievements: In addition to a steel sword, they will also receive a light and durable Valyrian chainmail.

Those who distinguished themselves in battle, such as several captains and vanguard generals, were awarded not only the two types mentioned above, but also more valuable full-body plate armor components.

With a smile, he personally handed them over one by one, offering brief words of praise.

Over time, my cheek muscles became a bit stiff.

The soldiers reacted in different ways. Some carefully wrapped up their weapons, treating them as family heirlooms and reluctant to use them immediately; others couldn't wait to try them out on the spot.

Soon, voices of surprise and doubt arose from among the soldiers testing their swords.

"Wait... the texture of this sword, and the subtle shimmering light when it's swung... could this be an enchanted weapon?!"

"My dagger too! It cuts through leather and test stakes with unparalleled smoothness, like slicing butter!"

"My longsword too! When I was parrying the training sword just now, the opponent's blade chipped, but mine was completely unharmed!"

More and more verification sounds rang out, and the soldiers confirmed with each other, their expressions of shock growing deeper.

"All...all the weapons His Highness bestowed upon us are magical weapons?!"

"How is this possible?! Is there some mistake?"

"One or two items would be fine, but there are dozens! How could His Highness possibly make a mistake?!"

The truth exploded in the crowd like a thunderclap.

Magical weapons!

In the Kingdom of Inberia, this means the masterpieces of master craftsmen and enchanters, each one priceless.

Moreover, they are often priceless and are usually only worn by generals, nobles, or warriors who have made unparalleled contributions.

And now, these ordinary soldiers have each received one!

A surge of joy and gratitude welled up inside me, but it was quickly followed by intense unease and fear.

"Your Highness!" A young soldier who had just received a longsword suddenly stepped forward, holding the sword with both hands, kneeling on one knee, his voice trembling.

"This...this is far too precious! I was merely doing my duty, killing a few orcs. I am utterly unworthy of such a generous gift! Please...please take it back!"

His words resonated with many, and many soldiers showed hesitation and trepidation.

They worried: How would the other generals and nobles view His Highness's generous bestowal of royal treasures? How should they be rewarded if someone were to achieve greater merit in the future? More importantly, they felt their own merits were meager and they were unworthy of such a gift.

Looking at the soldiers kneeling before him, begging to take back their rewards, Leylin understood their concerns.

He did not reach for the sword, but instead slowly scanned the entire area, his voice steady and clear, echoing throughout the square:

"I am giving you these weapons in the hope that they will become an extension of your arms, a stronger force to protect your homeland and uphold your loyalty."

He paused, his tone becoming even more resolute:

"You think you're unworthy? In my eyes, quite the opposite. Your worthiness isn't measured by the number of heads you've taken or the level of the enemies you've defeated."

He pointed towards the city wall, where traces of war still remained.

"You are worthy of it, measured by the heels that never retreated when blood soaked through the bricks; by the will that kept the bowstring taut even when the arms trembled with exhaustion; by the determination to buy a moment more time for your comrades behind you, even knowing that death was certain."

His gaze fell on the kneeling young soldier, and on the face of every soldier, whether resolute or youthful.

"Every ripple on this sword reflects your battles of yesterday; its weight carries the vows you made to the kingdom and to each other. It is not a treasure from the treasury; it is a companion I forged by my own hands for you, the guardians of Inberia."

"So stand up and take your sword." Leylin's voice carried an undeniable power, yet also a rare touch of gentleness.

"You deserve it. This is not a reward, but recognition. It is recognition that your loyalty deserves the sharpest blade and your courage deserves the strongest armor."

"From this day forward, you will grow alongside the weapons in your hands, staining them with the blood of your enemies, and protecting the light behind you. Only in this way will you not let them down, nor will you let yourselves down."

The young soldier raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed. He looked at the longsword in his hand, which seemed to resonate faintly with his own heartbeat, and then at the prince's calm yet profound gaze.

That sense of fear and unease was gradually replaced by a heavy force called responsibility and honor.

He took a deep breath, gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, stood up, solemnly fastened the longsword to his waist, straightened his spine, and gave Leylin a standard military salute.

Without needing any further words, all the soldiers in the square who had been given weapons did the same thing in unison: they touched their newly acquired weapons and saluted solemnly.

It was not merely an expression of gratitude for the reward, but a silent vow: to hold the weapon and remain steadfast in loyalty.

loyalty!!!!