The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?!
Chapter 390 - 330: Buying Emotional Value

Chapter 390: Chapter 330: Buying Emotional Value

The Armand Family’s manor.

The wide-open gate welcomed its master’s return.

The feeling of "coming home" made Lind’s emotions complex.

He possessed the memories and emotions of "Lind Armand," but he was very clear that he was not the original Lind Armand.

Gently turning his neck, he took in everything with his eyes.

Within the vast territories of the Royal City, nobles’ manors were like small fiefdoms with their own independent operating systems.

The feudal system created hierarchical bonds between the King and the nobles, the land belonged to the nobles but they must remain loyal to their monarch during this period.

Until loyalty ceased, and the land was reclaimed.

In their manors, nobles could have their own armies, serfs, mills, farmlands, and even markets, ensuring self-sufficiency without external trade.

The main labor force of the manor came from serfs, with very few hired workers or tenants, as human life was the cheapest thing, both now and before the apocalypse.

Lind reviewed his memories, recalling how the serfs often had to surrender the food they grew as "rent," although their tasks here were not limited to farming; they had many other chores as well.

Working 3 to 5 days a week, with the remaining time at their disposal, was the daily routine for the serfs.

Life in the Armand manor was not too harsh because the Armands, known for wars and knights, did not aggressively exploit the land and food.

Now under Lind’s leadership, he changed the fine traditions of the Armand family, mercilessly stripping most people within his territory of their rest, and yet those people had to thank him.

Being alive and fed was satisfaction enough.

Lind, with Peel, Pim, and Tione, walked through the long passage ahead and entered the small castle building within the manor. The ground was dusty but also bore dragging footprints.

They had not encountered any mutated monsters on their way because, when Lind left the Royal City, a large number of tenants and serfs had left the Armand manor.

Soon he heard staggering footsteps.

They came from the direction of the maid’s quarters, and a figure stumbled toward him.

It was a standing red-skinned monster, dressed in tattered long skirts, difficult to identify from her appearance. However, with only a few left since Lind’s departure, it wasn’t hard to guess.

She staggered toward Lind, her bodily changes indicating she had been affected by some noble power.

Pim stepped forward, but Lind raised his hand to stop him, watching as the red maid rushed to him and then grabbed her by the neck.

He twisted her neck, putting an end to her confused misery.

"I’m sorry I came back late."

There wasn’t much to stroll around in the whole manor, and Lind only focused on the rooms of himself and his family. Seeing those skeletons with swords through their abdomens, he did not know whether to be relieved or sad, at least he didn’t have to face a fight with his blood relatives.

The top floor was very cramped, not messy aside from the dust, indicating no one had been up there since Lind left.

Tione stood by Lind’s side, looking into the distance with him.

From this position, one could see the Royal Palace, the enormous building pressing down on a spot that required one to look up, overlooking the entire Royal City.

"What can I do for you?" Tione seemed to be pondering something.

"Just this, do nothing." Lind didn’t want to waste too many words on a fragment of a magic ring devoid of emotions. He pushed open the window and felt the gentle breeze on his face, smelling the pungent dust in the room.

Tione recalled what the Church of the Undead had taught her about "emotions," then looked at Lind and finally nodded gently.

If you say do nothing, then I’ll do nothing, how simple.

...

Lena lay on a fur-covered bed. Since their defeat of Goliath, the Undead had entered a peculiar state, becoming even busier instead of having any downtime.

Now, she felt somewhat lost.

She had already declined invitations to join the Undead teams twice, all because there was one thing on her mind.

Lena’s eyes fixed on the tent ceiling, she was pondering how she should return to Bloodlust Castle, and how to respond to the monarch’s task.

During this period, she had gained a lot, including the beautiful enchanted silver armor she wore, speed-boosting boots, a soft mask that hugged her face, and a short sword with meticulously carved patterns... She never used a short sword, it wasn’t even as sharp as her nails.

But she bought them anyway.

Without looking back!

They weren’t very useful, but they were beautiful; their exquisite appearance captivated her eyes.

The greatest effect of these items was the "wow" sounds the Undead made every time they saw her wearing them.

Lena enjoyed the gazes she received while walking down the street in these beautiful clothes, reminding her of her life before the apocalypse, which was a long and somewhat boring story.

The first half of the story was her favorite part, while the latter half bored her.

She used to be a "Flower Girl," required to dance in clothes so thin it was as if she wore nothing at all before the festival began, allowing everyone’s gaze to see through her clothes exactly what they wished.

During the festival, they were dazzling and garnered countless cheers, but after the festivals, the Flower Girls did even more.

Lena loved the feeling of being the center of attention, recalling once seeing a noble’s only daughter, as beautiful and exquisite as herself, but only on that day did Lena receive far more attention than her.

Then, one day, a long time ago—a way she liked to distinguish time.

She still remembered the sunset, shedding the glory of a "Flower Girl" when a robust man approached her, clutching her wrist.

The feeling of being the center of attention came at a price.

Lena was mentally prepared for the "cost," but instead of those things, what awaited her was death and rebirth.

An extremely boring rebirth.

Only now had she rediscovered the value of living, working frantically to earn money, then spending it shopping.

In the words of the Undead, although the things she bought were mostly useless, she also gained something she cherished greatly, which she called "emotional value"—she adored emotional value.

But Lena also knew well that emotional value would not satisfy the monarch.

Sunlight streamed through the slits of the tent, falling on a specially purchased stand for displaying armor, enveloping the armor in a misty glow.

Lena enjoyed the tranquility here, a stark contrast to the mundane and bloody life of her "long time ago."

She changed her clothes and stepped out of the tent, where someone greeted her.

Today was not Flower Day, but every day could be Flower Day.

But she still had to return to Bloodlust Castle to report the situation here to the monarch, especially about Lind Armand.

The man who shone like the sun, Lind, was powerful. Having witnessed him slay Dragon King Kote, Lena even doubted whether the monarch could match him.

They all belonged to "Hedwin," and Lind having killed one formidable Hedwin meant he could kill another.

"I have to go back," Lena muttered.

At least Lind didn’t recognize her, but the monarch could find her.

Turning to look at her own tent, Lena was filled with reluctance.