On the March

It was now the height of July, the hottest time of the year in the Grand Duchy of Vera.

Just after five in the morning, the sky had already begun to pale, swiftly turning a bright, clear blue.

On the vast meadows along the Blackwater River, herds of cattle and sheep leisurely chewed the tender, juicy grass.

These were livestock from farming households in Wright County. Their owners had driven them to this fertile pasture early in the morning to feast on nature's bounty.

The busy summer harvest season would begin before long, and for those who lived off the land, this period was crucial.

Not only did they need to hurry and reap the ripened crops, they also had to make sure the large livestock they raised—cattle, horses, and the like—ate their fill and put on enough fat to endure the long, grueling stretch of work ahead.

That was why every second was especially precious. There could be no delays or waste.

At that moment, two farmers tending their herds were driving the animals along while chatting eagerly.

They complained to each other about how stingy their landlord was—sending them out to herd sheep so early in the morning without even giving them a bite to eat!

After venting, one of them still seemed dissatisfied and angrily cursed, "Hmph, that old bastard only gives us two meals a day, but that's still better than nothing, isn't it? If my family's grain stores weren't so low that we couldn't even fill our bellies, I wouldn't bother working myself to the bone for him!"

Hearing that, his companion hurried to comfort him. "Don't think like that!"

What good jobs are there these days where you don't have to worry about going hungry?

Aren't those Freemen south of our village living proof?