Arthur looked at him, his eyes unperturbed. Although he knew Olivier's suggestion had some practical utility, it would damage his public image, and such an image was worth more than any amount of Gold Dragons.
This was also why he had opened the granaries of Willow Wood City to relieve the refugees, executed bandits who took advantage of the chaos, and given commoners the choice to go to his land or be escorted out of the territory.
Commoners did not understand so many intricacies. They only knew who started the war that caused all this, but he could maintain his image in another way: by acting differently from other nobles.
"I promised them that what they harvested with their own hands belongs to them."
"You must understand, Olivier, these people are those who chose to trust me."
"This trust is far more valuable than the last few coppers you want to strip from them."
Olivier opened his mouth, wanting to say something more, but found himself speechless. In the end, he could only lower his head: "Yes, My Lord."
Arthur said nothing more and walked towards the small castle, watching the soldiers gathered in twos and threes around bonfires, cooking and roasting food, sharpening their weapons, their faces showing the fatigue and impatience of three days of siege.
He stood on a high ground, his voice echoing throughout the camp: "Brothers!!"
Everyone's gaze converged, watching Arthur's finger point towards the silent stone castle.
Seeing the attention, his voice suddenly rose.
"Once this castle is opened!!"
"All the property inside the castle!! I will distribute to you!!"
"But I have one condition! Once this castle is opened!! No one inside shall be harmed!!"
The silence lasted only a moment, then the crowd erupted in earth-shattering cheers, a sound that seemed to tear the sky apart.
Fatigue and impatience vanished, and the flames of greed ignited in every soldier's eyes.
"Long live Lord Arthur!"
"Long live the Black Lion!"
Morale reached its peak at this moment.
Olivier hurried out, his face pale. He rushed to Arthur's side, whispering, his voice trembling with urgency: "My Lord, be cautious!"
"Please reconsider, My Lord!"
Arthur turned his head to look at him, waiting for his next words.
"Once these farmers get used to dividing property through war! They will forget their proper duties!"
"They will forget they are farmers! Forget they still have land to cultivate!"
Olivier was almost pleading, especially since this situation was already occurring. These soldiers fought for land, to acquire more land, so they could rent it out and collect taxes, enabling themselves and their families to escape the life of farming.
And now, this situation was becoming increasingly prominent and obvious. Initially, these farmers spoke of fields and cultivation, worried about leaving home to fight, their family's land lying fallow, and their family's livelihood. But now, it was about how to kill the enemy fastest, where to stab, where to cut, how to decapitate fastest.
In his opinion, these people were no different from the Ironborn, Wildlings, and pirates, perhaps even worse. Yet, their primary occupation was still farming.
"They will hope for war every day! Because war can make them rich overnight!"
"And peace will only make them feel bored and unwilling to cultivate the land."
"And where in Westeros are there so many wars to fight?"
"In the long run, your territory will be ruined, My Lord."
Arthur did not answer him, turning his head to quietly observe the fanatical soldiers below.
He saw the newly joined farmer-soldiers, those former farmers, now gripping their spears tightly, the same light flickering in their eyes as in the veterans'.
He knew what Olivier was worried about, and he knew what those soldiers craved.
But he did not think there was anything wrong with rejoicing at the sound of war. He needed these people to have this spirit because he knew war was coming soon.
Although he had burned everything and forced his commoners to leave the lands they had lived on for generations, apart from initially sending people to impersonate Legge Family routed soldiers to create terror, he had not overtly harmed any civilians. He had even provided food and escorts. Compared to the local armies of Westeros, he was already considered gentle.
And the commoners rejoicing at the sound of war was exactly what he wanted, preparing for future wars. He must make "war spoils" a norm, a system that soldiers could anticipate, ensuring that fighting with him would always yield rewards.
War is the cruelest test of human nature. Unlike animals, killing people who are the same as oneself can drive some simple, empathetic individuals to madness under immense pressure.
But he wanted every soldier under him to become a beast, to make them understand that they were not fighting for some vague honor or ideal, nor were they risking their lives for some distant lord.
They were fighting for themselves, for the gold coins in their pockets, for the prosperity of their families.
Even now, Arthur was not satisfied enough. He wanted these commoners to reach a state where "when the people see war, it is like a wolf seeing meat. When fathers bid farewell to their sons, elder brothers to their younger brothers, and wives to their husbands, they will all say, 'If you cannot return with the enemy's head, then do not come back.'"
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