The Exiled Lord: My Maid is a Battle Goddess-Chapter 73: The First Guest of the Domain

"This is my castle."

"It looks more like a large winery—uh, no offense intended."

Sherry looked at the stone structure ahead, swallowing the urge to complain and forcing herself to praise it. "It’s... quite unique. Yes, a castle with artistic flair. I like it."

"Yeah. It was remodeled from a big winery."

Phield waved his hand indifferently.

The two rode forward side by side, hooves splashing mud from the soggy dirt road with every step. Though they were technically riding together, Phield kept a considerable distance from Sherry—not out of courtesy, but simply because she smelled far too terrible.

Behind them, the cavalry were shrouded in black cloaks, silently forming two neat lines. The moment they entered the territory’s boundary, the leader, Kai, raised a hand in signal, and the cavalry veered off in another direction.

"Wow~ Look at those knights. They’re no worse than the Gassina family’s cavalry."

Sherry’s Divine Chosen, Valtteri, stared wide-eyed, praising them with exaggerated enthusiasm.

The chief knight, William, carried a greatsword on one shoulder and a long spear in his right hand, the triangular banner bearing his family crest fluttering once more.

In a steady voice, William said, "Indeed! Lord Phield is a noble worthy of respect—willing to take root in the Nightfall Domain for the future of mankind. That alone inspires awe."

"Haha, you flatter me."

Phield scratched his head shyly.

No wonder he was a chief knight—who wouldn’t like a knight like that?

As for Phield himself, he had only come to the Nightfall Domain out of sheer necessity. Otherwise, he would have either died to an assassination attempt or had his noble title stripped away.

"There aren’t many people here."

And it’s pretty run-down, Sherry added silently.

In the distance, the slave camp was dotted with rotting wooden stakes. The winery was slightly better, but the brick buildings were packed with dirt and moss—measures meant to block the wind, though they looked far from pleasing.

The only real advantage was the air. Compared to the gray mist, it was a hundred times fresher, carrying nothing but the smell of decayed wood.

"I sent the slaves to work at the logging site," Phield explained with a shrug. "The farmland here is basically maxed out—there’s no room to open new fields, and we’ve run out of purification potions."

He didn’t want a large number of slaves gathered here anyway. They knew of Ashina’s existence, and even with strict orders in place, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t talk.

So most of the people in the territory were busy clearing the main building and working at the logging site.

"I see. I was just making an observation. Honestly, being able to lead people into the gray mist and expand at all is already impressive."

Noticing how Phield kept his distance, Sherry lowered her lashes slightly, irritation bubbling up inside her. Whether on her family’s lands or at imperial banquets, she had always been one of the centerpieces—the Radiant Golden Tulip, they called her.

This was the first time a man had ever seemed to avoid her. Even though, at this moment, she truly was in a miserable state.

Hmph. Once I’ve washed up properly, you’ll see what a proud noble lady really looks like.

Phield smiled. "Thank you for the compliment. Receiving praise from a lady of the Empire’s most loyal and valiant family is truly an honor."

"No need to be so formal, Phield. Just call me Sherry."

She smiled as she turned slightly in the saddle, holding the reins with one hand. "I think our meeting has been quite pleasant. We’re friends now, aren’t we?"

Though she was still dissatisfied with Phield taking the divine artifact, gratitude outweighed her resentment. "I know your father—Count Kote. A brave and fearless knight. You resemble him very much."

Phield shot her a strange look, making sure she wasn’t mocking him.

Another round of tedious pleasantries. He sighed inwardly. Nobles loved that sort of thing.

Yes, his father had indeed been a brave and fearless knight—especially when it came to riding his beautiful stepmother as if charging on horseback, so hard she ended up skinny as a mummy.

Next time, let me take a ride too. I want to be a brave knight as well.

"Yes. For the future of the Sacred Griffin Empire, there are no weaklings in the Ross family."

Phield replied politely. As he spoke, he caught sight of Ashina and Rosalia waving at him furtively from afar. Knowing they had completed their task, he finally relaxed.

"Brave knights, I have prepared guest rooms for you. Please forgive the territory’s modest conditions—I’ve shown you my utmost sincerity."

Phield set expectations in advance. He deeply distrusted nobles.

After all, none of the nobles he had encountered so far were normal.

The debauched Simon Mapleleaf, the bizarre Baron Bull, and the pack of dogs in his own family.

By comparison, Rosalia was practically the purest noble girl imaginable.

Phield treated Sherry and her group with the same caution one would reserve for thieves.

"You’re far too kind. This place is a perfect haven."

Sherry sighed in relief. "Our cavalry spent a month and a half traversing a cursed land overrun with incubation clusters. No bathing, no change of clothes—sleeping like owls every night. It nearly drove me mad."

The winery was as shabby as a slum. Sherry might despise it, but her happiness was genuine.

"Then rest assured—there will be plenty of food and clean water."

The amount of food depends on how many dishes we serve, Phield silently added.

The cook of the Nightfall Domain—Mr. Platter—was about to have the busiest day of his life.

"Move faster. Are you trying to embarrass our lord in front of the guests?"

Kaor urged impatiently, shooting an unfriendly glance at Mick, who was chopping meat.

"Meg, Nina, are you just going to watch me work alone? Bring me some flour already."

Ned urged as well, wiping sweat from his brow while turning massive slabs of meat on the spit. "Good heavens, what kind of guests require this much meat?"

"I’m not slacking. But you can carry the flour yourself—I nearly dislocated my shoulder hauling water to boil."

Meg replied while washing vegetables.

"Why are all of you here, then? Who’s serving our lord and the guests today?"

Nina looked baffled. She couldn’t imagine nobles without servants.

"I’ll take care of Lord Phield. As for the guests... well, they’ll take care of themselves."

Ashina appeared out of nowhere, dressed in a maid outfit. She lifted a tray from the table. "You need a bag of flour, right? I’ll bring it soon."

Once Ashina left, everyone stared at one another.

"The guests... taking care of themselves?"

That was absurd.

"Our lord is worried we might expose the existence of a Divine Chosen."

Kaor, being the knowledgeable one, understood the reasoning. "Keeping our lord’s secrets is a servant’s duty."

"We’re very loyal,"

the maid Nina pouted.

"Of course. But we must be cautious."

Kaor suddenly thought of something, glanced around nervously, and lowered his voice. "Some Divine Chosen are terrifyingly strange—there are even those who can turn people into puppets by reading their memories."