Selling Grain

"Lord Duke." Hunt lowered his head. "At this point, we only have three ways to get through Extreme Winter."

"Oh? What three ways?" Duke Gellan stared directly at him.

"The first way is to disband the peasant rebel army." Hunt's head was nearly parallel to the floor, and he did not dare raise it to look Duke Gellan in the eye.

"Give the peasants severance pay and send them home. That way, we can ensure the remaining army has enough food to survive the winter."

Duke Gellan's expression immediately darkened.

Before he could rebuke him, one of his generals stepped forward and shouted sternly:

"Hunt, what kind of rotten suggestion are you giving Lord Duke? At least one-third of our enormous gains came from the peasant rebel army!

"If the peasant rebel army hadn't served as cannon fodder at the front, sacrificing themselves to break through the poisonous miasma Cyrus Flame, the Emperor of the Fire Nation, had deployed, do you know how many of our soldiers would have died for nothing?"

But Hunt raised his head and glared at the general, speaking harshly. "I'm merely stating the facts. Stop meddling here!"

"What? You actually said I was meddling? Lord Duke, he..."

"Enough." Duke Gellan raised a hand, speaking calmly. "I cannot adopt this method. Even if our remaining forces can defeat Cyrus Flame, sending these peasant rabble home would only create instability behind our lines... Hunt, give me the next one."

"Understood." Hunt took a deep breath and said seriously, "The second method is to have the people in the occupied territories hand over their winter provisions.

"Although they may die from hunger and cold, that would still count as contributing to the unification of the nation."

Upon hearing Hunt's words, the other five generals all fell silent, seeming