Groups of slaves, bound by iron chains and ropes, stepped onto Crimson Tide Domain's soil under the slave merchants' guidance.
Their eyes were filled with unease, speculating about the fate that awaited them.
However, when they entered the territory, they were stunned.
Clean houses, orderly roads, the smell of cooking smoke wafting through the air...
This was completely different from the slave camps they had imagined.
There were no filthy, muddy tents, nor rotting food emitting foul odors.
Even the soldiers guarding them didn't show the usual contempt and disdain, merely maintaining order with calm composure.
They couldn't help but feel even more anxious, because the more different it was, the more unsettling it felt.
But this was just their initial impression. What truly shocked them were the lord's words in the square the next day...
At dawn, Crimson Tide Domain's square was crowded with people.
Fifteen hundred newly arrived slaves were neatly gathered here.
Vaerik's voice echoed across the square: "Welcome to Crimson Tide Domain."
This single sentence left many bewildered. They had been sold here, yet were being "welcomed"?
Vaerik continued: "You can treat this place like anywhere you've been before, but I hope this can become a place of rebirth for you."
The slaves looked at each other, their eyes still wary.
"I won't make you work for nothing. Crimson Tide Domain will provide stable food, shelter, and work. Your labor won't be wasted meaninglessly—everyone's sweat will have purpose."
"More importantly," he paused for a moment, then slowly spoke: "Here, as long as you work hard enough, you can escape slavery."
BOOM—!
The slaves' hearts suddenly jolted, the square erupting in uproar!
"...What?!"
"What did he just say?"
"How is that possible...?!"
Freedom?
They still had the possibility of gaining freedom?
Would there really be a master in this world willing to give up slaves?
They had been bought and sold, driven and commanded, long accustomed to the bondage of chains, no longer daring to hope for a change in fate.
This was a promise too beautiful, even seeming absurd.
Whispers grew louder in the square—some excited, some bewildered...
But most sneered coldly, their eyes filled with doubt. They had heard too many lies.
Vaerik saw it all, but he believed time would prove everything.
...
Several days passed, and the slaves gradually adapted to their new environment.
Morning sunlight fell on Crimson Tide Domain's streets, bringing warmth rarely seen in the Northern Province.
A young slave held steaming wheat porridge, standing outside a wooden house in slight bewilderment.
This was his breakfast—generous portions, more than his entire day's rations in the past.
Not far away, other slaves also emerged from their houses, gathering in small groups around fire basins for warmth.
"The beds here are more comfortable than the hay mats I used to sleep on," an old slave said quietly.
"Yes," another agreed, his expression complex.
There was no endless whipping and abuse here, adequate food was provided daily, and compared to their previous slave camps, their accommodations were practically paradise.
What shocked them most was witnessing free people with their own eyes.
"Hey, are you a slave?" a young slave asked tremblingly of a craftsman repairing roads.
The man stopped his stone hammer, wiped sweat from his forehead, and smiled: "I used to be."
The young slave's eyes widened: "But... but now you..."
The craftsman grinned: "Because I worked actively, the lord granted me free person status."
"Really?" his voice trembled.
"Of course." The craftsman patted his shoulder. "As long as you work well, the lord won't shortchange anyone."
Such examples multiplied.
They saw free people in the farmlands, in the blacksmith shop...
Those former slaves now wore decent clothes, living with their heads held high.
The slaves' doubts wavered in that moment.
They began to believe that perhaps... freedom wasn't a false promise.
As time passed, the slaves' fearful emotions gradually faded, replaced by adaptation to Crimson Tide Domain and longing for the future.
"As long as we're willing to work hard, we can do it too!"
Such thoughts quietly spread through the slave community, gradually igniting sparks of hope.
They no longer just passively obeyed, but began truly investing themselves in their work.
They began sincerely appreciating the person who gave them opportunity—that young lord.
Whenever he inspected the mining area or workshops, slaves would unconsciously stop their work.
Watching him leave, their eyes no longer held only awe, but carried some indescribable trust and respect.
Of course, the massive population influx brought not only labor force, but unavoidable challenges.
Food wasn't a big problem—previous reserves and family support made grain supply adequate. But housing became a thorny issue.
Crimson Tide Domain originally had a small population, with housing built according to needs.
Now with fifteen hundred additional slaves, previously adequate accommodations suddenly became tight.
But by squeezing together a bit, everyone could still be housed.
Slaves were arranged in existing semi-subterranean communal dwellings, temporarily sharing accommodations with original subjects.
In other places, this situation would likely cause dissatisfaction or even conflict, but Crimson Tide Domain's situation was surprisingly stable.
Because everyone believed the lord had promised to accelerate new house construction.
Not only that, craftsmen had already begun laying foundations in outer areas. New housing was under construction, progressing faster than anyone expected.
Vaerik said: "Bear with it a little longer—there will be more houses soon."
So even though living conditions were somewhat crowded, slaves had few private complaints.
Housing shortage was just an immediate problem. What truly worried Vaerik was sanitation.
One afternoon, Vaerik took time to inspect the newly built residential area.
The houses here had been constructed recently, wooden beams still carrying the scent of fresh wood shavings, the ground paved with newly laid dirt roads.
Looking from afar, rows of houses were orderly arranged—one of Crimson Tide Domain's greatest recent achievements.
But as Vaerik went deeper along the small path, he sensed something amiss.
On both sides of the path, various garbage could occasionally be seen piled together, the air filled with a moldy smell.
Particularly that yellowish-brown puddle gleaming with oil in the sunlight at the street corner made Vaerik's throat unconsciously constrict.
Such an environment might not cause trouble in the short term.
But as population grew, drinking water, sewage disposal, and environmental sanitation would eventually become hidden dangers.
If left unchecked, once disease spread, Crimson Tide Domain didn't have enough doctors to respond.