"Oh? Let me give it a try." Hearing this, Levi rolled up his sleeves and walked over. He also wanted to see just how strong this magic was.

"Ahem, Lord, how could we trouble you to do this yourself? Just let the Barbarians handle it," Sam said fawningly, sweat drenching his back.

In truth, he had witnessed the Lord’s monstrous strength over the past few days. Every morning, he would practice his swordplay with a giant sword the size of a door.

When a giant sword that large came down, forget the Stone Skin Technique—even the Iron Skin Technique would be useless.

Levi smiled at Sam, his gaze so intense it made the man freeze up. Only then did he nod. "You have a point. Muto, you go give it a try."

Sam secretly breathed a sigh of relief, wiping the fine beads of sweat from his forehead. ’If the Lord had really tested it himself, there’s no way I would’ve escaped a whipping.’

After a few hundred lashes, even with his sturdy constitution, he’d be ready to meet his ancestors.

Muto walked over carrying a curved saber. He didn’t use his thirty-pound war axe; a goat wasn’t worthy of his best weapon.

The skin of the goat under the Stone Skin Technique showed no change, save for a faint gray light enveloping it.

Muto, holding the saber, terrified the goat, which bleated "BAA! BAA!" in panic. Unfortunately, tied to a wooden stake, it couldn’t break free.

Without another word, Muto swung the saber in a swift arc, landing it squarely on the goat’s neck.

BAA!

The poor goat only had time to let out a terrified cry before the force of the blow knocked its body to the ground, its neck collapsing limply.

Although its neck hadn’t been sliced in two as one might expect, the bones and tendons inside were surely shattered.

Muto glanced at his saber’s cold edge. He hadn’t used his full strength, just a casual swing.

But that should have been enough to lop off a goat’s head. Instead, it had merely broken its neck. Of course, the goat clearly couldn’t survive such a heavy blow.

"Your magic isn’t all that." Looking at the dead goat, Muto curled his lip. He hadn’t even used his full strength.

Sam stuck his neck out, arguing stubbornly, "But did the skin break or not?"

Muto scratched his head. Though he had killed the goat with the force of his strike, the skin was indeed intact.

"How many people can you cast this magic on? And how long does it last?" Levi asked, nudging the dead goat with his foot.

He could see what this magic did. It was basically like putting on a layer of armor; it didn’t have the damage-absorbing effect you’d read about in stories about Wizards. Against a powerhouse wielding a blunt weapon like a warhammer, it would be pretty damn useless.

Still, it was valuable nonetheless. Levi took out a small knife to test it. The goat’s skin was now as tough as leather armor.

"Lord, I can cast it on over a hundred people at most, and it lasts for an hour." Sam looked proud, then hesitated before adding, "But the more people I cast it on, the weaker the effect becomes. It’s nowhere near as good as when I cast it on a single person."

"If you cast it on fifty people, how much is the effect reduced?" Levi asked, getting straight to what was most useful for him right now.

When the Wilderness Alliance Army arrived, the Barbarians would be the main force, confronting the assembled Bandit Corps directly. With the enhancement from this magic, their casualties would surely be reduced.

"It should be equivalent to a layer of cowhide?" Sam said, sounding a little uncertain.

Levi nodded. It was a bit weaker than he’d hoped, but something was better than nothing.

The Barbarians’ equipment had already been upgraded. Aside from the ten or so wearing iron armor, the rest all wore stitched armor over chain armor. If the Stone Skin Technique was added on top of that...

...even if an enemy’s attack could break through the stitched armor, the remaining force would be stopped by skin as tough as cowhide, greatly increasing the Barbarians’ chances of survival.

After learning a few more details, Levi left with his hands behind his back.

Sam also wiped the sweat from his brow. He felt that talking to the Lord was no different from facing a jungle tiger, as if he could be devoured at any moment.

"It’s almost lunchtime. Let’s go eat," Sam said with feigned familiarity, starting to walk toward the camp’s mess hall.

"You think you’re going to eat? I don’t need to tell you what happens next, do I?"

Muto sneered, brandishing the three-finger-thick cowhide whip at his side. Zat had given it to him.

Sam gave a sheepish grin and, with practiced skill, tied himself up with the rope again.

He cursed inwardly. ’I performed the magic just now to try and get on their good side, but I didn’t expect these Beastmen to be so much smarter than they look.’

Still not satisfied, two Beastmen walked over and tied him to the wooden stake.

Only then did Zat nod in satisfaction. He too left with his hands behind his back, leaving one Beastman behind to stand guard in shifts.

The Lord meandered over to the area where the warriors of the Evil Fang Tribe were being held.

"Lord."

The guards were ten Feder Warriors clad in leather armor with one-handed swords at their waists. They respectfully placed a hand on their chest in salute.

When Baisitina had first announced that this Debei noble was to be their new lord, they had their reservations. But after witnessing the Lord effortlessly deal with over three hundred attacking enemies, they were left with nothing but wholehearted admiration.

Levi gave a slight nod and walked in.

A total of seventy-two captives, who had been lying sprawled on the ground, sat up one by one when they saw someone enter. They looked at Levi with mixed expressions.

There was hatred, fear, and even sycophancy—a whole range of reactions.

Levi didn’t mind. He simply said, "Does anyone want to join High Cliff Castle? If you join, you will shed your status as a captive, become my subject, and enjoy the treatment my subjects are entitled to."

Levi couldn’t be bothered to lecture them with grand principles. A bunch of barbarians probably wouldn’t understand anyway. It was better to get straight to the benefits.

The group exchanged glances. Finally, after a moment’s hesitation, one man cautiously asked, "Lord, what do we have to do to become your subjects?"

The reason he asked this was that the Feder Remnants’ discovery of the iron mine was now exposed. The Evil Fang Tribe certainly wouldn’t be the only ones to attack.

Recruiting them at a time like this most likely meant using them as cannon fodder on the battlefield to reduce pressure.

This was something the Evil Fang Tribe often did themselves. When they captured people from an enemy tribe, they would force them to the front lines to be sacrificed, sparing their own tribe’s warriors.

"You just have to work for me," Levi said, speaking honestly.

These Northern Barbarians were all around six feet tall and had sturdy builds, but Levi didn’t think much of them as soldiers.

In the future, even if he expanded High Cliff Castle’s army, Levi would basically only recruit from among the Feder Remnants.

In terms of physique, the Feder Remnants were no worse than these barbarians. Moreover, the Feder Remnants were mostly literate.

The difference between the two, in ancient terms, was like the difference between sons of good families and local thugs.

It was obvious who he would choose for his army.

As for these Northern Barbarians, Levi would have them contribute their efforts to High Cliff Castle’s military industry or animal husbandry.