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

Chapter 306: Receiving the wind and washing away the dust
Throughout the spring, Gweil also cultivated new rice varieties in the new experimental fields.

Modern breeding techniques can fail, so many varieties have numbers after them, and some of these numbers indicate which generation of the cultivar.

If you're unlucky, it's normal to fail a dozen or more times.

Therefore, it is best to cultivate rice at multiple experimental sites at the same time, relying on quantitative change to trigger qualitative change. If one hundred rice seeds are cultivated at once, there will always be some that are successful.

After all, failure is the mother of success.

But there was no possibility of Gweil failing.

Even if we fail, it just means we didn't achieve the desired results.

For example, she cannot directly cultivate a primitive rice variety into a super rice variety; that would definitely fail.

The effects she has triggered are definitely there, and they are changing the direction of rice towards super varieties. However, it is in a state of gradual mutation and requires generations of accumulation and sedimentation.

The superior seeds of the No. 1 rice variety were used to cultivate the No. 2 rice variety.

Then, use the seeds of rice variety No. 2 to cultivate rice variety No. 3.

The varieties that have gone through four or five generations are even better than those that Roman has bred using traditional methods for dozens of generations.

However, the drawback is that the rice seeds from each year cannot be saved for future generations.

Every year, the rice seeds must come from the experimental fields blessed by Gweil.

Otherwise, the second generation will experience trait segregation. Without Gweil's blessing, all the good traits will degenerate at lightning speed, and the yield will drop drastically.

So this spring, Gweil mainly focused on rice cultivation, and she would go to the meadow pasture once a month to work as a livestock breeder.

There is no shortage of breeding pigs and sheep for the time being. A breeding pig can be used for two years, which is enough, and there is no need for rapid iteration.

Improving large species is far more complex than improving rice.

Roman wants Gweil to go and bless the stallion again.

The main focus was on the warhorses, with a blessing also given to the draft horses and donkeys.

Roman captured a herd of wild horses two years ago, and a herd of wild donkeys last year. The hybrids of the two produce mules, and mules have even greater advantages than horses and donkeys.

Anyway, she has too many uses.

By the time Roman finished surveying the general situation of Origin City, it was almost dark.

The Witch of Fate knew he was coming back and was waiting on the slope leading to the manor. She was overjoyed to see him.

"Miss me?"

"Mmm! I missed you so much!" She ran over quickly, jumped up, and hugged Roman like a koala.

But she's not a child anymore; she's now a graceful young woman.

The impact made Roman take two steps back, but another impact from behind made him sway.

"Oh! Roman!"

Her strong legs wrapped tightly around his body, and a pair of wheat-colored arms gripped his and Gweil's necks at the same time, tightening their grips. The two girls sandwiched him between them, one in front and one behind, in a sandwich position.

"Hey, Sanna, aren't you at the military camp?" Roman turned to her and asked.

There were only three witches who could have close contact with him, and now they were all gathered together. Shasta watched quietly from the side.

"I knew you were coming, so I asked my sisters for a day off!" The fisherwoman beamed and leaned closer, taking a deep breath and revealing an expression of utter enjoyment. When she used magic, her senses were incredibly sharp, and the smell entering her nostrils made her feel as if her very bones were melting...

She suddenly sniffed and tilted her head to look at Shasta in confusion.

Roman and his personal witch... it's normal for their body odors to mix, but isn't it too mixed?
Sanna didn't take it to heart, and then said aggrievedly, "You guys never take me with you when you go to war."

"You're still growing. Swords have no eyes on the battlefield... Stop it, stop it. Let's talk about it when you beat Kao."

Roman hadn't seen her in a long time either.

Those battle witches trained her and taught her combat skills.

"Fine! I'll challenge him to a duel tomorrow and beat him up! I'll beat him black and blue, smash his buttocks until he's too ashamed to show his face!" Sanna said through gritted teeth.

“Sanna, I’ll help you! I’ll make him fall tomorrow! Then you can ambush him!” Gweil shouted, waving her arms. “Nonsense!” Roman was speechless. He had never seen the actual situation, but he had heard the witches talk about it.

It can only be said that Sanna's battle results were not ideal.

It's more like he'd get beaten up by Kao.

After all, he had invested a lot of resources in Khao, whose strength was rapidly improving, reaching the level of a third-tier knight, and was able to defeat all low-tier witches head-on.

More importantly, he's ruthless!
Gavier could have made Kao fall at a crucial moment, but wouldn't that have been a complete waste of energy?

Roman was also considering whether to improve Sanna's attributes as well.

After all, she's not young anymore, and her body is in a stage of rapid development.

He walked back to the manor with two koalas.

"Roman, how many days are you going to stay here?"

"I'll be leaving in a couple of days. There's so much going on over there; this is just the beginning."

"Hey!" both witches exclaimed in dissatisfaction at the same time.

"Alright, you're not kids anymore, why are you still so clingy?"

"Just stick it! Just stick it!" "That's right! That's right!"

Roman was completely baffled.

They're fine when facing either of them alone, but when the two of them are together, they're completely lawless. They dare to say anything and do anything, without any taboos.

But there's nothing he can do; he spoils them both.

One is a witch of vital importance to Origin City, and the other is his first five-star apostle.

He was almost at the hall when the two witches reluctantly got down and each took his arm.

"Your Highness, you're back! We'd like to greet you!" some witches said with smiles at the table.

They're reliable when it comes to serious matters, but they're incredibly undisciplined most of the time, which Roman finds hard to tolerate. It's understandable that Sanna is taking leave, but what the hell are you taking leave for?

He gave a dismissive hum, ignored them, and waved to the maids, ordering them to bring over a few barrels of beer.

"Oh dear, it's rare to see you drink alcohol," the witches exclaimed in surprise.

As far as I remember, this old man never drank alcohol.

"Consider this a welcome-back dinner for me," Roman said.

"There's no limit to the beer today, so drink as much as you like." He didn't know who he was talking to, but the witches instinctively took it in.

Beer is great, especially craft beer, it's absolutely delicious!
Unfortunately, the manor's tables never serve large quantities, so they only had a good time at last year's celebration.

Roman thought that drinking too much of this stuff was bad and a waste of food. A pound of wheat was enough to fill you up, but if it was brewed into beer, someone with a high alcohol tolerance could easily drink several pounds of wheat in one go. He didn't know why he made an exception today.

In the blink of an eye, the witches, having drunk their fill, danced wildly, a chaotic spectacle.

Roman watched coldly, making no attempt to stop it.

"Your Highness..." Roman turned his head and saw the wolf-headed witch approaching.

Why don't you have something to drink?

“I don’t like it.” This was a lie, Edith reminded her, but it didn’t matter.

The wolf-headed witch said, "The prophet said you need more witches?"

This was about establishing a deeper connection. Roman asked, "How many people can she provide me?"

The wolf-headed witch pondered for a moment: "How about a hundred people?"

Roman agreed.

However, a hundred assistant witches are nothing compared to his current scale; he can easily afford to support them.

(End of this chapter)