Beat the Whole World to Death

Being invested with a title meant being given his own household, so Romain had naturally brought all his family assets with him, including a great many crop seeds.

Nobles did not engage in production, but he was an exception. He had secretly dabbled in farming in this life as well, and his hoeing form was fairly standard.

Romain understood farming.

Not much, admittedly, but that was fine. The more he planted, the more proficient he would become.

As for the manor, five wooden houses were enough for now. The rest could be built up slowly.

Today, Romain had sent the Slaves off to build latrines and a kitchen. He could not tolerate people relieving themselves all over his manor.

A hall was needed as well. There were plenty of things to do, after all.

After breakfast, the Slaves felt warm all over. Full of gratitude, they went off to work, and their efficiency even improved a little.

This Lord was one of the good ones!

They understood Lords very clearly. Normally, people at the very bottom like them had no right to speak to a Lord—but that did not stop them from judging their masters in private.

A master who let them eat one extra mouthful would be privately called a benevolent Lord.

A master who let them eat two extra mouthfuls was a truly benevolent great Lord.

A master who let them eat an entire extra bowl, and warm, thick wheat porridge at that, then still allowed them to work in the fields... Good heavens, what kind of mighty, righteous Lord was that?!

Meanwhile, Romain found a suitable patch of grassland by himself, shouldered a hoe, and began turning over the earth.

His body in this life was strong and had developed early. That was simply what ample nutrition did.

Only high-quality protein could allow humans to touch the limits written into their genes.

Of course, tilling land was not easy work. Early development was one thing, but insufficient endurance was still insufficient endurance. Especially for a first-timer, it was impossible to get the hang of it right away. A real sixteen-year-old boy would collapse after ten minutes of gritting his teeth and working.

This was heavy physical labor, after all.

Fortunately, Romain was no ordinary person.

Planting Experience +1

Planting Experience +1

Planting Experience +1

He spent the entire morning turning over one mu of land. He barely stopped at all, yet Romain remained energetic and did not feel tired.

Level 1 Planting: 5/100

The experience gains were quite good, rising even faster than construction experience.

Romain felt it was because he had a talent for farming.

Innate Farming Saint Body!

In the Tale of Survival interface within his field of vision, besides the five wooden houses, this small patch of freshly turned earth was now displayed as well.

After turning the soil, it still had to be prepared. There were too many hardened clods of dirt, and they needed to be broken apart.

Then came ridging and ditching—piling up neat rows of small earthen mounds that could retain water, preserve soil, and block the wind.

Romain had only gradually come to understand these things after gaining planting experience.

Still, by the standards of the current Middle Ages, this method of cultivation should be considered unconventional. It was scientific, certainly, but far too un-medieval.

Romain felt it was necessary to make every human nation understand the beauty of the unconventional!

A journey of a thousand miles began with a single step. He would start with farming.

Develop quietly, then beat the whole world to death!

Romain stayed beside his little field for the entire morning.

He sowed Windbreak Grass seeds.

Windbreak Grass was a spring vegetable. It was called grass, but it was actually a radish.

It was planted in early spring and could be harvested by the end of spring.

At lunch, Green asked Romain, "When are we going to Sigg Town?"

He was asking when Romain would get down to serious business.

They should have gathered the residents yesterday and allowed the people to meet the Lord who would rule them for the rest of their lives.

"Sigg Town is right there. It's not going anywhere. What are you in such a hurry for?" Romain glanced at Green.

Green and Aaron were War Knights specially trained by the Armor-Splitting Family.

Following him to this basin meant they might not see war again for decades, because there was nowhere here to put their skills to use—even the King's conscription would never reach this place.

And Romain was not ready to fight his way out yet.

Even the usually steady Aaron was getting restless. He said quietly, "Then how long are we waiting?"

He was silent and reserved by nature, rarely taking the initiative to speak.

He had endured building houses. He had endured living in the countryside. He had endured seeing Romain obsess over growing vegetables all morning, apparently intending to continue in the afternoon.

But when he heard, "What are you in such a hurry for?" he could no longer hold it in.

Aaron's thoughts were simple. Romain would be the ruler of this land from now on. The sooner he issued policies, the better, especially policies concerning the farmers' livelihoods.

Romain treated Aaron well. "I know you want to accomplish great things, but I am accomplishing great things right now. Later, I'll lead you all in accomplishing great things together..."

Green complained, "By leading us all to farm?"

Romain glanced at Green and gave a soft snort, sounding rather pleased with himself. "Aaron might manage. You couldn't farm properly."

Green was speechless. Was that something worth competing over? What proper War Knight knew how to farm?

At those words, the corner of Aaron's mouth lifted slightly, but it quickly returned to normal as he continued maintaining his silent knightly demeanor.

After lunch, Mol arrived carrying a stack of thick parchment.

It contained all the information on Sigg Town.

Romain handed the documents over to Seth, lest he had nothing better to do than keep nagging in Romain's ear.

That afternoon, he reclaimed another mu of land, intending to use it to grow strawberries or tomatoes.

After swinging a hoe and carrying water all day, even his physique was struggling to hold up. By nightfall, when he lay down on the bed Mol had delivered, his back and waist ached badly.

Youth had the advantage of strong recovery. Romain felt that he would soon adapt to this intensity of labor.

Two days passed in the blink of an eye.

On the plain north of the wooden houses, Romain had reclaimed five mu of land, all planted with various vegetables and fruits.

Unfortunately, the rate at which his experience increased gradually slowed. Perhaps it was because he was not yet proficient at applying the knowledge flooding into his mind.

Level 1 Planting: 59/100

At that moment, Mol appeared again after two days.

Following Romain's orders, he had conducted a census. The more he investigated, the more frightened he became. In just three days, he felt as though he had sweated out an entire lifetime. Even his handkerchief was soaked through.

He found Romain swinging his hoe. Romain wore a Wool Sweater with his sleeves rolled up, his arms showing smooth, powerful lines of muscle.

Mol tremblingly handed the documents to Romain.

Seeing that something was off about his expression, Romain set down his hoe and told him to report verbally.

"Lord Romain, Sigg Town's population is roughly between 1,800 and 1,900 people," Mol said nervously.

Romain immediately smiled. "Is that so? I thought the territory only had around seven hundred people. After all, that is the number you have always used when paying taxes."

Mol's face turned pale, and the fat all over his body shook like a sieve.

He had known about this situation before.

But his late father had never conducted a census, much less voluntarily reported one. So Mol had not investigated it either, nor had he voluntarily reported it.

The thought that Grand Duke Armor-Splitting had long forgotten this place had occurred to him, and so he had muddled through more than a decade.

The Grand Duke lived comfortably. Mol lived comfortably. The farmers here lived comfortably too.

But some things could not withstand investigation. Once investigated, disaster followed. Mol knew there was a huge problem. The population on paper was not even a fraction of the actual population. As the Agricultural Officer, he could be beheaded for this.

That was why he had been so terrified when he saw Romain. This landmine could blow him into the sky—or straight into a pigsty.

Now, he had personally lit the fuse. There was no hiding this matter anymore.

"Hmph."

Romain knew this was not Mol's fault.

Grand Duke Armor-Splitting had personally conquered Sigg Town in his youth, then sent a Steward to manage this land. More than fifty years had passed since then.

But in all those years, he had never sent anyone here to recount the population and land, nor had he recalculated the taxes.

Every year, tax collectors simply came here and took away that year's taxes.

The mountains were high, the roads were far, and the place was remote. No one would voluntarily come here.

Maybe he had forgotten. Who could say?

Grand Duke Armor-Splitting was now nearly eighty. He had only fathered Romain in his early sixties, surviving until now solely due to the extraordinary physique he had possessed in his youth.

Sometimes, Romain felt that Grand Duke Armor-Splitting might be a little senile. Forgetting was normal.

There was still plenty of undeveloped land in this era.

What prominent great noble did not have a few insignificant territories? Rule was fragmented, and everything was a complete mess.

Before coming here, Romain had never imagined this basin would exceed his expectations.

The terrain was secure, the soil fertile. It could practically be called a land of abundance—under such conditions, it would be stranger if the population did not grow.

Romain frowned and asked, "Why is there a fluctuation of one hundred people?"

He wanted an exact number, including those still in their mothers' wombs, so he could allocate labor in the future.

Seeing that Romain had lightly passed over that matter without pursuing it, Mol felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted. Knowing his life was probably safe, he came back to himself and realized his entire body was soaked in sweat.

Romain did not care how much Mol had profited over the years from the discrepancy between the population and taxes.

It was not that he looked down on Mol. With this population and such low productivity, how many resources could he squeeze out even if he picked them clean? At most, enough to make a few sets of armor. It was not as if a War Knight could suddenly emerge from nowhere. If he had that kind of ability, why would he stay in a place like this as a steward?

This Steward was fairly dutiful. He had not done anything more excessive, and Romain was currently short on manpower. If someone could be used, then use them.

But after hearing the question, Mol's expression became troubled again, and he struggled inwardly.

Under Romain's quiet gaze, Mol finally explained the reason.