"Another forty kilometers? My lord, this... this..."
Old Albert instinctively wanted to object, but he could not bring himself to say it.
He was loyal to his lord, true enough, but he did not want the serfs of White Bear Territory to die under endless forced labor either.
What did it mean to build sixty kilometers of road through a primeval forest thick with vegetation, trees, and swamps?
Even if it was only a narrow dirt road wide enough for wheelbarrows, it would still be an enormous undertaking.
And it had to be finished within the year?
The three thousand serfs of White Bear Territory would have to do nothing but bury their heads in road construction all year. Even then, there would only be a slim chance of finishing before winter arrived.
But what about the Autumn Harvest?
Who would harvest, dry, and store the grain from over thirty thousand mu of farmland?
Would they still build the irrigation works?
Would they even plant next year's crops?
For some reason, Old Albert thought, This is what a feudal estate is like. The lord only needs to know how to order serfs around, but the Territory Steward has far too much to consider.
"Don't rush to object. What if I told you there was a Salt Mine at the end of this road?"
Lynn saw Old Albert's concerns and promptly dangled the irresistible bait of a Salt Mine.
Salt... a Salt Mine?
When he learned there was a Salt Mine in the territory, Old Albert's first reaction was not excitement, but suspicion—even terror.
He nearly fell straight off his horse.
Second Brother, riding behind Lynn, grabbed him just in time, allowing him to clutch the saddle without mishap.
Once he had steadied himself, Old Albert lowered his voice as much as possible. "My lord, you're joking, right? You must be, right?"
Lynn's face turned serious as he shot back, "No, I'm not joking. Is this something I could joke about? If there weren't a Salt Mine, why would I build another forty kilometers of road?"
"My lord, are you really going to mine this Salt Mine?"
Old Albert's reaction was completely different from Second Brother and the other Horse Bandits. His expression was filled with concern over mining the Salt Mine.
Though he was merely a Manor Steward, he understood the simple truth that an ordinary man became guilty by possessing a treasure.
Possession itself was a crime.
With White Bear Territory's current strength, what right did it have to touch the salt trade of the Northern Border?
Even if his lord's family was the Cold Wind Earl, it was still far from enough!
Salt could bring countless gold coins, but it could also bring endless war!
Lynn said impatiently, "Isn't that obvious? I'm building the road to transport salt. I've already contacted merchants. Once the road opens, we can sell salt throughout the entire kingdom."
"But, my lord..." Old Albert still wanted to try to persuade Lynn.
But Lynn cut him off on the spot. "Don't oppose me, Albert! I'm definitely mining this Salt Mine! And I will never keep the profits from mining it all to myself!
Once the Salt Mine is successfully developed, every Local resident of White Bear Territory will receive free salt forever. On top of that, I'll reduce their taxes and may even directly grant them farmland!"
Politics was about gaining more supporters and reducing opponents.
Not only that, one also had to properly distribute benefits among one's supporters.
Countless political groups that succeeded first and failed later had mostly fallen over the distribution of benefits.
Lynn had prepared in advance and had already roughly planned how the Salt Mine's profits would be divided after development began.
As the lord, he would naturally take the largest share.
Of course, he would not be stupid enough to let such an astronomical fortune sit in a warehouse and gather dust.
Most of the Salt Mine's profits had to be spent on building up the territory and the army.
Then the army could in turn protect the Salt Mine's profits.
The territory's management would take a smaller share. Those who should marry beauties could marry beauties, and those who should build grand mansions could build grand mansions. Naturally, the serfs responsible for road construction and mining could not be left out either.
Free salt, lower land taxes, and perhaps even direct land grants, allowing them to cast off their status as serfs.
Anyway, he had to make sure the benefits were properly
delivered. Only then could he fully awaken the serfs' enthusiasm for work.
What, three thousand people needed more than half a year to finish the road?
Of course forced labor was inefficient!
But what if they howled with eagerness and volunteered to build the road?
Then that would be a different matter entirely.
In short, as long as the money was in place, six shovelfuls a second was no dream!
They could swing iron picks so fast they left afterimages!
Lynn was not like some imprisoned president who had drastically slashed military benefits.
That fool actually wanted to launch a mutiny with soldiers who were not fed enough.
Old Albert was instead horrified. "But, my lord, then every serf in the territory will know about the Salt Mine. If the secret leaks, the Marsh Duke's army will immediately march into White Bear Territory!"
The lord's lord was not his lord. Old Albert had always been loyal to the White Bear Baron; whoever was the baron had his loyalty.
After all, only the true owner of the territory would place the territory's interests and the serfs' lives first.
What Old Albert feared now was the Marsh Duke's great army.
The quality of armies these days could not exactly be called loving the people like their own children, but they could at least be described as raping and pillaging.
Thirty years ago, the Marsh Duke's elite troops had indeed driven back the Wild People advancing south, but they had not forgotten to ravage White Bear Territory and Shallow Beach Territory along the way.
If not for the duke enforcing military discipline, those soldier-scum would have liked nothing better than to strip even the clothes covering the serfs' bodies.
"What are you panicking for? With White Bear Territory's terrain, as long as we completely seal off the information, the duke cannot possibly learn anything happening here. By the time he follows the trade route to White Bear Territory, we'll already have forged a powerful army and kept every enemy outside the territory!"
Lynn had never feared information leaks.
White Bear Territory lay at the northernmost edge of the Marsh Duke Territory. Vast, boundless primeval forests lay to its west and north, the White River and sheer cliffs lay to the east, and only Shallow Beach Territory bordered it to the south.
As long as they sealed off the dock and the sole southern exit, the entire territory would become an information black hole.
Would the serfs leak the secret?
What a joke. Every male serf would be building roads in the north, with their every word and action watched. Who could possibly leak anything?
The women, children, and elderly left in the villages could not escape the territory at all. Besides, given their level of understanding, they probably did not even know what illicit salt meant.
A few bags of free salt would be enough to turn the serfs into the lord's most loyal beasts of burden.
As for the overseers and Farm Managers, they all had families and had lived in White Bear Territory for generations. Their ties ran too deep, and they had too many weaknesses. They were unlikely to leak the secret willingly.
And the territory's only dock was right beside the castle, making it the easiest place to guard.
More importantly, the Marsh Duke would soon have no time to care about a mere illicit salt trade.
Lynn had received a secret letter from Three Rivers City. It said that the King of the North had died, and the entire Northern Kingdom had fallen into a leaderless state.
An age of great contention was about to arrive. He could not waste even a single second more.
To speed up progress and mobilize every Local resident's enthusiasm, he had to—and could only—announce the Salt Mine's existence to the entire territory.
(End of Chapter)
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