Chapter 44: Serfs and Freefolk

Gawain stood atop a stone, gazing down at the rows of faces below—blank, fearful, withdrawn. He took a deep breath.

The people were not ignorant, but that didn’t mean they were knowledgeable.

Ignorance is a judgment clouded by prejudice and disdain; true ignorance is simply a statement of fact.

The common folk and serfs of this era were ignorant, yes—but that was because the social order left them almost no way to gain knowledge or broaden their horizons. The crushing weight of daily survival drained all their energy, leaving no room to think beyond mere existence. Living like this for so long made them appear thoughtless, giving rise to the illusion of “stupidity.” But in truth, they did think—they just couldn’t grasp things so far removed from their daily lives.

So you couldn’t talk to them about lofty ideals, the future, visions for the territory, or the logic of economic development. The moment you did, they’d immediately dismiss such “high and mighty” ideas as belonging to the lords, drawing a clear line between themselves and those concepts. The best approach was to speak about things that touched their lives directly.

“People of the Cecil lands,” Gawain called out loudly, “you all know who I am. Therefore, you should also know that I am the one with the greatest authority in this territory. What I say represents the laws of Cecil—laws that protect you, but which you must obey.

“We are expanding into new lands, and with that comes new rules. So today, I announce three things:

“First, since the old lands have been destroyed and all previous wealth wiped clean, I hereby declare—on behalf of the ancestors of the Cecil family—that all debts owed to the lord within this territory are canceled. Whether you are freefolk or serfs, from this day forward, you owe nothing to the lord.”

A ripple of unrest stirred among the crowd, though it was subtle. While many peasants and serfs owed debts to their lords in this era, the territory was being rebuilt from scratch, and no one had the means to repay anything. Given Lady Rebecca’s previous kindness, they had already guessed that debts would be forgiven.

Gawain continued, “Second, all serfs in this territory have the chance to become freefolk. The lord will issue a series of tasks—building houses, repairing roads, mining, joining the army. Each task will have a point system. Complete the required work properly, and you’ll accumulate contributions. Once you reach the standard, you can become freefolk. Those already freefolk who complete these tasks will receive payment. I will announce the exact payment system soon. I promise you: any hardworking, reliable serf who puts in two or three years of effort can become freefolk. And any freefolk who works steadily for five or six years can earn their own home!”

This time, the murmurs erupted into open, excited chatter.

Serfs becoming freefolk was a radical idea for this time. Though the laws of Ansu’s kingdom didn’t explicitly forbid serfs from gaining freedom, and local noble laws were silent on the matter, in practice, no noble would freely grant their serfs liberty. Serfs were cheap labor—exploitable to the last drop without burden. Nobles who only knew how to squeeze more taxes and labor from their people never saw any benefit in freeing serfs.

Lady Rebecca’s earlier decree allowing serfs to gain freedom through military service had already caused a stir, but Gawain’s proposal went much further.

As for paid work and even owning a house—many freefolk themselves found it hard to believe.

“Get paid for working for the lord? Who’d believe that?”

Gawain didn’t give them time to debate. He moved on to the third announcement:

“Third, the tents, fences, and drainage ditches you see here are your first tasks under the new laws. I have assigned each of you a specific area to be responsible for. Only those who complete their work exactly as required will be considered finished. As an incentive, the first ten to finish will get to eat meat tonight.”

With that, Gawain didn’t wait for their reaction. He jumped down from the stone and returned to where Hetty and Rebecca stood.

The gathered peasants and serfs hesitated for a moment, then suddenly surged forward toward the seemingly finished camp—eager to reinforce loose ropes and nails, and to drive the fence posts deep into the ground.

For them, the talk of points and contributions was still too abstract, and they didn’t fully trust the soldiers and knights overseeing the work to fairly measure their efforts. But one thing they understood perfectly: meat for dinner!

Only those who finished early—and did the job well—would get meat!

Just as Gawain had expected, nothing motivates people like their own interests.

Watching the swarm of peasants and serfs rush off, Hetty felt a little dazed. It wasn’t until Gawain stood before her that she snapped back, asking in disbelief, “Ancestor… is what you said just now really true?”

Gawain gave a half-smile. “Which part, exactly?”

“The part about serfs becoming freefolk through work,” Hetty frowned. “I don’t oppose it—Rebecca already issued the decree about serfs gaining freedom through military service—but you said even building houses and roads counts as contribution, and that it only takes two or three years to become freefolk… is that really true?”

“Of course it’s true,” Gawain said, looking at her. “What’s wrong with that?”

“If it’s that easy to become freefolk, then soon all the serfs in the territory will be free,” Hetty said, clearly confused. “The children of freefolk are freefolk too. Does that mean the Cecil lands will have no serfs at all?”

Gawain kept smiling. “Is there anything wrong with having no serfs?”

From her ingrained class perspective, Hetty instinctively felt something was off. But from her unusually broad and progressive outlook—far beyond most nobles of her time—she also sensed that maybe, just maybe, a society without serfs wouldn’t be so bad. She found herself caught in a contradiction.

Rebecca, after a moment’s thought, said, “Actually, I think… the serf system isn’t really necessary anymore. Losing it wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

Gawain looked at this usually stubborn descendant with some surprise and nodded. “Go on.”

“Serfs are labor,” Rebecca said, scratching her head. “Labor’s purpose is to provide work. But if making them freefolk actually gets you more labor, then why keep the ‘serf’ label at all?” She continued, “My father told me the main reason serfs weren’t freed was because without the whip, they’d immediately become lazy and stop working. But I think the whip isn’t necessarily the best way…”

Gawain looked at her approvingly. Encouraged by the praise from her ancestor, Rebecca’s confidence grew, and she spoke fluently: “I also noticed that if you send one serf to work, they’ll always try to slack off. But if you send two serfs and tell them whoever finishes first gets an extra loaf of bread, they’ll suddenly do the work of three or four people—far more than the value of that bread. So I thought, maybe you don’t need a whip to keep them from being lazy. Maybe there are better ways.”

“That’s quite an insight,” Gawain chuckled. It was a simple observation, but almost no one in this era cared to notice such things. Nobles didn’t watch how their serfs or peasants worked, nor did they think in terms of efficiency. Whips and soldiers to supervise were their ultimate tools of control. Rebecca’s approach…

Well, it just showed that this poor, provincial viscountess really had a lot of free time on her hands.

And it was precisely because she was so idle that she could come up with these ideas.

Still, her thoughts only scratched the surface. Gawain knew well that the rise and fall of slavery wasn’t just about “whips and bread.” The deeper issue was whether productivity had advanced enough, whether society had truly reached a point where change was necessary.

From his observations, at least within his sight, the serf system no longer matched the world’s productive capacity. Huge populations were stuck doing repetitive, inefficient labor, producing goods at minimal efficiency to support the upper classes—while having no chance to rise. The magic-wielding elite were already living in castles, watching fireworks and listening to music, lighting their halls with daylight stones. Meanwhile, the common folk lived barely better than primitive people. The whole society was grotesquely distorted.

On Earth, such a stage would have long since been overturned by revolution. But here, the presence of supernatural powers held back that process.

Because a hundred peasants armed with pitchforks couldn’t defeat a low-level mage or knight. Even if their numbers doubled, it wouldn’t matter.

Maybe someday this world would break the deadlock, but Gawain wasn’t willing to wait. He had to change things now—and begin his grand plan for development.

Because he had a feeling—the magical tide was truly coming.

Even the mighty Gondor Empire at its peak couldn’t withstand the magical tide. Now, with the continent’s nations regressed to medieval ignorance, were they going to face it head-on with bare faces?

And even if the magical tide weren’t a concern, Gawain had other worries.

Those mysterious “eyes” in the sky.

A backward medieval world was trapped by gravity. Choked by it, it didn’t even have the right to look up at the heavens, let alone study the secrets of the stars.

(End of chapter)