The Lord's Power Was Unlimited

The Lord's Power Was Unlimited

The next morning, at dawn.

While dew still clung to the grass, Mol arrived with the Slaves from yesterday.

They had set out at daybreak.

Romain woke at the same time.

Noble family rules tended to be strict, and the Armored Breaker family was no exception. The first Grand Duke Armor-Splitting had been renowned for his martial prowess and required all descendants to rise before dawn for morning training alongside the family knights.

Of course, that requirement disappeared once they had their own territories.

Without rules to restrain them, they could sleep until whenever they pleased.

Thus, many nobles rapidly fell into decadence after gaining fiefs, and their martial skills gradually wasted away.

Romain had not yet had time to fall.

He had gone to bed late the previous night, but his body clock woke him automatically.

When he woke, he saw Aaron and Green training on the grass before the wooden house. They swung their great steel swords alloyed with Mountain Copper with tremendous force, their astonishing power palpable even from a distance.

They did not spar. Intense exchanges of blows would wear down their weapons and rapidly reduce their durability.

Back at the Armored Breaker family estate, someone had been specifically responsible for repairs. In Sigg Town, they did not have those conditions.

Romain did not join them. He merely cleaned up the area around the wooden house, pulling weeds.

Planting Experience +1

Romain had conducted a fairly thorough study of Noah's Ark the previous night.

The main focus had been Tale of Survival, whose life skills alone numbered nine.

Construction, planting, gathering, animal husbandry, hunting, cooking, medicine, crafting, manufacturing, and smithing—they could be said to cover every profession.

He could not be everywhere at once. Raising all those skills simultaneously was impossible.

For now, he could only choose the important ones to improve.

The whole year's work depended on a good start in spring. It was early spring now, so the importance of the Planting skill went without saying.

In most places, farmers had to cultivate sixty mu of land a year just to feed one family.

More precisely, yields per mu in this era were under a hundred jin, and soil utilization was abysmally low.

There were exceptions, of course, but exceptions were merely exceptions.

Sigg Town was one of those ordinary places, perhaps even worse—primitive farming conducted entirely by experience.

"I can't let that pack of idiots keep ruining the land like this."

Romain crouched on the ground, cursing as he pulled weeds.

The Maid and male Slaves passing by carefully avoided the area. They could tell that the Lord was in a foul mood and feared provoking him.

At that moment, footsteps sounded. Romain looked up to see Mol approaching cautiously. With a respectful expression, he clearly called out, "Esteemed Lord."

Romain stared expressionlessly at the fool before him for a moment, making Mol's heart pound uneasily.

Then he shifted his gaze toward the Slaves trembling in the cold wind.

Romain rose to his feet.

This was a basin, and the surrounding mountains formed a natural barrier against bitterly cold air. But that did not mean it was spring all year round. With winter not yet fully passed and the sun not fully risen, the chill of early spring was still torture for these ragged Slaves.

Mol watched Romain casually toss the weeds in his hand onto a pile.

He still could not understand what this Esteemed Lord was doing.

But he knew that Romain held everyone's lives in his hands, so he served with great restraint. Even when he did not understand many things, he would do his best to cooperate. Otherwise, not even his father's uncle could get him out of the pigsty.

"Bob, cook a pot of wheat porridge. Enough to ladle out fifty bowls." Romain led Mol to the chef among his attendants.

Commoners and Slaves generally ate two meals a day, at noon and in the evening, while it was perfectly normal for nobles to eat four or five meals a day.

"Esteemed Lord, one pot can't possibly make that much." Chef Bob wore a miserable expression. The moment he heard the task, he knew what Romain intended to do.

Romain lifted his chin. "Then cook several pots."

Did he really need to teach him something so trivial?

Romain was not Jie or Zhou. He was not so cruel as to make Slaves work on empty stomachs—slavery was still too backward. Even feudalism would be better. Not even an emperor starved his soldiers.

"Esteemed Lord, I fear we do not have enough grain for you to display your benevolence so freely." Steward Seth appeared beside Romain.

"Am I going to starve to death?" Romain glanced sidelong at Mol.

The pressure immediately fell on Mol.

He promptly lowered his head and declared his loyalty. "I will immediately send all of Sigg Town's grain reserves to you, Esteemed Lord."

"Forgive my bluntness, but this does not conform to any rule." Seth felt that Romain had gone too far.

If yesterday's actions had still been within the realm of understanding, today Seth realized he could no longer keep up with Romain's drastic changes.

This was challenging the bottom line of the age!

In Seth's memory, Romain had always been a rather aloof person since childhood. That aloofness was in his bones and rarely showed itself, yet Seth had always felt that Romain looked down on everyone.

But on the other hand, Romain had been impeccable from childhood to adulthood. He was skilled in both scholarship and martial arts, outstanding among his many brothers and sisters. Otherwise, he would never have received the Grand Duke's approval.

That was precisely why Seth had agreed to follow Romain to develop this wild territory.

But something was very wrong now. That arrogance had once been restrained, yet why was it suddenly overflowing now—overflowing to the brim, as though he had broken free of every shackle and cast off every restraint?

Now that he was on his own land, he wasn't pretending anymore, was he?

"I am the rule." Romain reached out and patted Seth on the shoulder, then left the temporary kitchen with Mol.

His authority as Lord was unlimited.

"How utterly inelegant!" Seth frowned and looked disdainfully at the dog... finger marks left on his shoulder. He lightly brushed away the dirt clinging there before turning to prepare the tableware for the coming meal.

They had no bowls for Slaves, so they could only take out the nobles' tableware. And they could never use it again afterward—how could nobles use bowls that Slaves had used?

This was terrible.

Seth suspected that if he continued working here, he might have to pay Romain instead. Otherwise, Romain would have no money to pay his wages.

Romain did not care how Seth felt. He said to Mol, "I want you to do three things."

"Please give your orders."

Romain raised one finger. "First, send over all information on Sigg Town and hand it to Steward Seth."

"I'll do it immediately!"

Romain continued, "Second, I'll give you two clerks, and only three days. I want a full grasp of the population and occupations of Sigg Town and its villages. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, I understand."

For some reason, Mol fell silent for a moment.

He guiltily wiped the sweat from his forehead. Investigating the entire population in three days was a tremendous challenge for him.

Before this, he had never counted the exact population of Sigg Town.

Every year, he simply pocketed half of Sigg Town's harvest and paid a fixed tax to the Grand Duke's territory. There was no need to do something so troublesome.

But now a noble was governing.

Lastly, Romain said, "Third, if the information you gather differs greatly from the information I gather, then prepare to eat Black Bread in the pigsty."

Mol forced a smile uglier than crying, while inwardly grumbling, There isn't even Black Bread to eat in the pigsty.

"Go." Romain patted Mol on the back and watched the Steward, fat as a white pig, mount his horse and race toward Sigg Town.