Chapter 593 - 362: Prisoner of War Camp? Recruit Camp

Chapter 593: Chapter 362: Prisoner of War Camp? Recruit Camp

They could choose to go home, or find a job in Deepwater City and the Northern Domain to make a living.

The POW camp even provided job placement services.

It was like a Devil tempting him.

’Want freedom?’

’Then give up your noble status and get to work.’

And if you didn’t work, you didn’t get to eat.

Therefore, Sir Willy could only slack off while working, a gesture to express his less-than-firm stance.

But if you were caught slacking, your recreational time would be reduced.

Every part of life in the POW camp was scheduled.

Wake up at 6:00 AM. Thirty minutes for washing up and breakfast. Then, transport to the work site for a five-hour morning labor shift from 7:00 AM to 12:00 PM.

A one-hour lunch break, then back to work from 1:00 PM to 6:00 PM. After a one-hour dinner, there was a two-hour ideological education class.

’Ideological education class?’

’How could such a ridiculous class exist?’

And it was only during class that the Transcendent prisoners and Ordinary prisoners were allowed to mingle.

The first hour was held in small groups, teaching the illiterate how to read.

Sir Willy had always believed that those conscripted peasant soldiers were utterly incapable of learning such complex knowledge. They were born only to farm.

Yet, after a few days, the men in the class had actually learned quite a few words.

Although he was reluctant to admit it, reality seemed to prove it: there was nothing inherently noble about the aristocracy. They simply possessed the vast majority of the resources.

The second hour of the class was held in the main square, with several thousand people listening to the real ideological education lecture.

In Sir Willy’s opinion, that part of the lecture was spreading the most wicked ideas imaginable.

Those so-called teachers actually claimed that nobles were Vampires who oppressed the common people, parasites on society, and the greatest obstacle to progress.

’Absurd!’

’The nobility are clearly indispensable leaders! Only under the guidance of the aristocracy can that foolish mob do what they’re supposed to do.’

’And the nobles, who play the most crucial and indispensable role, should rightfully enjoy the most resources.’

What was infuriating was that the former soldiers of the Alliance Army were actually being persuaded by the Northern Domain’s twisted logic.

When the Northern Legion’s recruiting officers appeared in the POW camp, the recruitment drive went exceptionally smoothly.

Droves of prisoners eagerly signed up, wanting to become new recruits for the Northern Legion and head to the Northern Domain for training.

’Traitors!’

’Can they really betray those they once served for such petty benefits?’

’Just as I thought. A foolish mob with no principles, no faith, no concept of an oath.’

’Just the promise of meat twice a week and monthly pay was enough for them to betray their loyalties so easily.’

After nearly half a month in the POW camp, Sir Willy could no longer tolerate this state of affairs.

As a respectable nobleman, he had to stand up and refute the absurd theories being spread throughout the camp.

He decided to do it tonight, during the ideological education class.

He would directly stand up and refute that so-called teacher.

Of course, he wouldn’t do it himself. It was beneath a nobleman to debate with a commoner.

’He must stand up’ didn’t mean ’he must *personally* stand up’.

Sir Willy selected a Knight’s Squire, whose delicate status placed him somewhere between the nobility and the common folk.

The talking points for the debate, of course, would be provided by Sir Willy himself.

That evening, several thousand people gathered in the large square.

The crowd was much smaller than the week before. Many had chosen to join the Northern Legion and had already been shipped North by train.

Those who remained were either still hesitating or simply didn’t want to fight anymore, preferring to live a quiet life and wait until they had accumulated enough points to regain their freedom.

And then there were the nobles—the most stubborn of the die-hards.

The evening class had just begun when the Knight’s Squire, acting on Sir Willy’s orders, stood up and shouted, his voice enhanced by an Amplification Spell.

"You’re brainwashing us! Trying to make us join our former enemy and betray our Lord’s kindness!"

"Oh? Kindness?"

Faced with this sudden attempt to disrupt the lecture, the teacher on the platform wasn’t surprised. They had contingency plans for this sort of thing; it was actually stranger that it had taken two full weeks for someone to finally cause a scene.

’It seems those nobles aren’t as stubborn as they pretend to be.’

The teacher smiled and asked, "What kindness has your Lord shown you?"

"My Lord allows my family to have land to farm!" the Squire said defiantly, sticking his neck out.

Perhaps it was a part of the Zog Group’s corporate culture, but these teachers all had a certain passive-aggressive, sarcastic way of speaking.

"Is that so? But isn’t it possible that the land was always there, that your Lord simply seized it first, and though he doesn’t need to farm it himself, he still takes the largest share of your family’s harvest?"

The Squire stammered, at a loss for words, and darted a glance toward Sir Willy.

Willy gestured, signaling him to change the topic.

Following the instruction, the Squire spoke again. "My Lord gave me the opportunity to become a Knight’s Squire! His kindness is like that of a parent to me!"

The teacher shot back without missing a beat. "Oh, my. That ’parent’ of yours is quite biased, isn’t he? His children are born into the nobility, while you’re just given a *chance* to become a Squire, and you treat it like a divine gift? How are your birth parents doing? I wonder, is your ’benefactor parent’ on good terms with your actual parents?"

As the teacher spoke, the Squire seemed to see a vision of his home, of his parents who toiled year-round without a day of rest. And even then, they still couldn’t live a decent life.

’It’s like... the teacher has a point.’

’No, I can’t betray the Lord’s trust. That is my code of conduct as a Knight’s Squire.’

"But you chose to attack the Royal Family! You brought this war!"

"Correction. It was the Royal Family who initiated this war, not us," the teacher replied. "And that brings me to a question: you accepted the summons to attack the Northern Domain, but have the people of the Northern Domain ever done you any harm?"

The Squire was once again at a loss, hemming and hawing for a long moment before finally blurting out, "For... for the good of the Sutton Kingdom!"

"Ah, so it’s for the good of the Sutton Kingdom. Well then, another question arises: what share of the Sutton Kingdom’s good have you received?"

At this, the Squire was rendered completely speechless.

From the conflict on his face, it was clear he was in the midst of a fierce internal struggle.

After a long struggle, he spoke again. "Then... what’s in it for us if we follow the Northern Domain and attack the Royal Family?"

Hearing this, Sir Willy almost shot to his feet in agitation, desperate to cut the Squire off.

’A brainwashing spell. It has to be a brainwashing spell! How else could a loyal Squire have thoughts of betrayal in such a short time?’

In response to the Squire’s conflicted question, the teacher answered with ease, "If you wish to learn our ideals, I invite you to continue listening to our lessons. But I can promise you this: we intend to take back all the land the nobles have seized."

"Then can I become a Warrior for the Northern Domain?"

"Of course you can. Of course..."

---

"So, do we really need to be giving the prisoners of war such good treatment?"

Figxin asked, confused, inside the Deepwater City Lord’s Mansion.

The work of processing the POWs had, to some extent, slowed their pace in taking Delong Castle.

To her, it seemed hardly worth the effort.

"Lenient treatment for prisoners..."

"Lenient treatment, yes, lenient. I know, you’ve said it a dozen times. What I mean is, *why*?"

In the POW camps, besides food, clothing, and shelter, they provided weekly Shadow of Evil screenings, internet access, and were even planning to hold a sports festival for the prisoners.

Zog looked up. "The results have been excellent, haven’t they? The number of prisoners in the camps signing up for the Northern Legion grows every day."

"But they would have joined anyway. The benefits we offer are far better than what those Lords gave them. Besides, many were just conscripts with no loyalty to the Alliance Army. They probably hate the Alliance Army more than we do."

"Part of the reason is for show," Zog explained. "The POW camps are filled with cameras; this is all valuable video footage. Broadly speaking, it’s part of what differentiates us from the Old Kingdom. Our uniqueness lies not just in what we say, but in what we do. On a smaller scale, it proves we keep our word and truly are lenient with prisoners. In future battles, our enemies will be more inclined to surrender rather than fight to the death."

Zog said confidently, "Trust me. By the time we reach Delong Castle, we won’t have to chase prisoners all over the countryside to capture them."