You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 192 It's alright, I'll do the same thing as you!

Nathan led his men all the way from the valley to the camp of the noble alliance.

They were practically chopping at their buttocks with axes.

The nobles fled in panic, leaving behind many belongings.

We'll leave logistics and supplies aside for now.

The important thing is those two hundred-plus warhorses.

The knights launched a surprise attack, but due to the intense battle, they were unable to withdraw.

The various families had gathered about seventy knights to fight, but most of them were dead and the rest were captured.

Only a portion of the knights' squires withdrew, following the nobles as they fled the devastated battlefield, taking with them a limited number of warhorses.

Roman did not pursue them further.

He ordered his men to clean up the battlefield and aid the wounded soldiers.

The casualties this time were too high.

At least one-third of the casualties were related to this group of knights who went on the expedition.

Roman had already made his decision regarding their fate.

Execute them all!

Some of the knights thought Roman would use them to pay ransom, and when they heard the soldiers say this, they all panicked and claimed that they had to go see Roman, because they still had value.

But Roman was determined to do so!
He couldn't stand seeing others beg for mercy in front of him.

So before those struggling and resisting knights could even see Roman, they were all beheaded and their heads were piled up into a pyramid.

He offered blood and heads as sacrifices to his fallen apostles and soldiers.

At night, everyone stayed in the nobles' camp.

Many people were busy, some guarding prisoners, others tallying casualties and taking stock of the spoils.

Roman and Dick, in particular, had to write all sorts of lists.

By the next day, the army had almost completely reorganized.

The wounded, prisoners of war, and the corpses of soldiers were taken to Sig by the army's servants.

Roman led all available troops along the Black Iron Road toward the territory of Kant.

……

Early summer.

Roman arrived at Kant's territory.

Count Condé returned to his castle and defended it with all his might.

But Roman had no interest in raiding the castle.

He rode his horse and led his troops along the road to the villages, then turned to his soldiers and said, "Go do what you are supposed to do."

Soldiers entered the village.

Soon, the villagers were driven out by the soldiers.

Roman looked down at them and said, "Take your grain and livestock and come with me."

He spoke calmly and offered no explanation. The poor villagers, their faces ashen, resignedly lowered their heads and said, "Sir, we have no food left, and no livestock left either."

Roman frowned.

"Where is your food?"

“They were borrowed by other gentlemen,” he explained. “There was one named Vika, another named Gade, and a group of very fierce gentlemen who were like wild beasts…”

Roman, seated on his white horse, asked, "Did they steal your grain?"

"Well, it wasn't stolen, it was borrowed. Everyone was borrowed, and they said they'd compensate me later."

"So what did your count do?"

"The Earl... the Earl said that the lords are planning to attack a bandit named Roman. That man is a villain. He stole a lot of things from the Earl and abducted many people, regardless of gender or age. He does all sorts of evil. The lords have gone to send troops to fight him... The lords said that as long as Roman is defeated, we will have good days."

The villagers' expressions were blank, their words were monotone, and they only showed some confusion.

Why have I never seen this gentleman before?
“I am Roman,” he said.

The villagers finally showed surprise on their faces, quickly looked up at him, and then quickly looked down at the ground.

No wonder those officials in charge fled so quickly, each taking their families with them.

Can they escape? Can they escape?

Some people are the owners of the land, no matter where they are.

Some people are slaves to the land, no matter where they go.

……

Roman didn't like interacting with the villagers.

A gloomy, numb, desperate, and lingering oppressive atmosphere.

Disheveled, filthy faces, and dull eyes, they resembled cow dung by the roadside, emanating a foul stench—and it wasn't just them; the villagers of Sigge Town had it too. But Roman thought it was due to different fermentation environments.

He adapted to the stench of Sigir, and gradually helped them shed that stench. But he couldn't adapt to the stench of Kantland.

"Don't you blame your count?"

The villager didn't know why he was asking this, and remained silent.

"Say!"

"The Earl is quite kind. It's only because the other noble lords are afraid of our Earl that they dare not kill anyone here. When they took the grain, those lords even said it was a loan from us."

Everyone knows what "borrow" means.

At least there's something to look forward to, which gives me peace of mind.

Without the Earl, their situation would have been even worse.

"What else did they do?" Roman asked again. "Tell me, I want to hear it. Each person should say at least one thing."

Upon hearing this, the villagers exchanged glances and had no choice but to speak up.

"The land belonging to the Yide family has been trampled; this year's harvest will definitely be much smaller..."

"The daughter of Steward Buss was raped by a beastly old man who managed the mill. His daughter was grinding flour at the millstone, and the old man just pinned her down there—and afterwards paid her a sum of money for it..."

"When Seth was herding sheep, he bumped into a master of the Salt Flower family, so they hung him up and whipped him about ten times. Seth couldn't withstand it and died..."

Roman interjected, "Didn't they say your count forbade them to kill?"

“It was Seth who didn’t make it,” the man explained.

Roman nodded without saying anything more.

"continue."

They said a lot more, but nothing good came of it.

The five noble families have sent three or four thousand soldiers, all of whom are stationed in the territory of Kant. What good can happen there?

If Roman hadn't initially helped Count Condé alleviate the population pressure of five or six thousand people, they probably wouldn't be able to get enough food now.

Either this person gets beaten up, or that person gets attacked.

Petty theft, robbery, extortion, and acting as a thug.

Kill a chicken today, slaughter a sheep tomorrow, eat it all, and then leave.

As they talked, everyone fell silent, and the atmosphere became somewhat somber, turning into a quietude.

The villager in the lead lowered his head and muttered, "Sir, what do you want from us? Look, I was still digging for wild vegetables when your soldiers called me here. We're out of food at home, and the summer harvest is in a couple of days. If you're short of food, we'll harvest it for you in advance. The wheat is almost ripe now, so please save some seeds for us."

“I don’t want food,” Roman said.

"Whatever you want, we'll give it to you. We just beg you, sir, to spare our lives."

"I want to play with your daughters, fuck your wives, and beat your mothers. Call them out, and I'll take them one by one. Once I'm done, I'll leave."

No one answered.

The villager leading the group continued to mutter, "My mother died a long time ago. It was raining that day. She lay down on the edge of the field and said she was tired and wanted to sleep for a while, and then she never got up again."

"What about your wife?"

"She died too, from complications during childbirth. I was working in the fields at the time."

Where is my daughter?

"My daughter and wife died together, leaving only my son."

"how old are you?"

"Seven years old."

"It's alright, I can do it with boys too!"

"Sir, I beg you, please give us a way to survive!" the villagers shouted.

"What are you standing there for! Take them all away!!"

Roman turned and roared at the soldiers.

The soldiers were at a loss. There was no sense of urgency, and they didn't need to be too violent. What if they scared the villagers? So they pushed the villagers who refused to leave and whispered, "Hurry up, come with us."

But their feet seemed to be firmly rooted here, unmoving and unshakable.

Like withered, sparse wheat in the field.

They diligently and earnestly absorb the meager nutrients from the earth's surface.

Roman lashed out with his riding whip, knocking the leading villager to the ground.

"Get out of here, all of you!"

The familiar old-fashioned smell is back.

The group of short, withered wheat stalks finally moved, their steps laborious, like wheat pulling its shallow roots from the soil, following the man riding the white horse forward.

(End of this chapter)