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

Chapter 321 Long Winter Nights
The city of Plenty is undergoing basic infrastructure construction during the winter, so Roman doesn't need to pay special attention to it.

However, the so-called diversified development cannot rely solely on infrastructure construction.

Roman began sending out fleets again and absorbing people.

Those people can be transported from the north or from other noble territories.

There must be some poor people on noble lands who can't survive the winter. Rather than letting them freeze to death outside, it's better to bring them to the City of Abundance to make them shine.

Roman used farm tools as a form of exchange.

Those nobles had no reason to refuse.

Nobles are very independent. As long as the fire doesn't burn them, they don't care. If the fire burns them to death, they don't care at all.

The political system of the entire Black Iron Lands destined them to be anything but monolithic.

Based on this, not all nobles were hostile to the King of the Valley. The title of Roman was personally conferred by the King of the Black Iron. Although he was an enemy of the Papacy, he had no conflict of interest with most nobles—except for the vassals of the Cracked Armor line.

Secondly, there were beneficial collaborations between some nobles and Romans.

For example, the nobles who obtained cheap salt and iron.

The price of salt is not important.

Other nobles only need to extract their own profit from salt, and cheap salt will create even more room for them to make profits. Although the Romans have trade privileges, the nobles can simply buy it all and then resell it to the lower-class farmers. As long as enough is supplied, some people at the bottom will benefit.

The only ones who suffer are the other salt field owners, because they can't compete, unless they engage in a commercial war or a price war, but that's another story.

Steel farm tools are very important.

They simply don't know how to develop, not that they resist development.

Steel farm tools can improve labor efficiency and support more knights in battle, but they will not pose a threat to the noble class. They are entirely beneficial and harmless, and no one will dislike them.

Exchanging steel farm tools for people is feasible, especially for the northern front.

The downside is that Roman has a bad reputation, and the farmers may not accept the fact that their noble lord sold them to the King of the Valley. There will certainly be a lot of resistance.

But as long as there is profit, difficulties can be overcome.

Roman's request was not high; he only needed to bring in another 10,000 slaves before the end of the year to increase the population of Plenty City to 80,000.

The land carrying capacity of Plenty City is much stronger than that of Origin City.

The only drawback is the lack of natural defenses, leaving the area wide open and forcing the fight to be a hard-fought battle.

But this is what he fears least.

Roman sat by the fireplace, the roaring flames providing warmth, the entire hall serving as his office.

He opened the system interface, planning who to allocate skill points to and who to take to dungeons today.

At this moment, Shasta walked over and placed a cup of hot tea next to Roman. "Your Highness, are you still working? Why don't you take a break?"

“I’m preparing for next year’s plans,” Roman said.

The slave trade is really troublesome, and you don't get many people. It's better to just plunder the surrounding areas.

Once they're all killed, they're all his.

"But it's still a long way from next year. Northerners say that the winter nights are long and the harsh winter is coming."

"Oh, is there any explanation?" Roman asked casually.

Shasta sat in the chair next to Roman and said, “The Northern Lands are even more vast and mysterious than the Iron Lands. There’s a saying of unknown origin: ‘The Winterborn are prisoners of that land, and the King of Winterborn is the greatest prisoner among them.’ I once went to the Northern Lands. The prophet commanded me to find a special witch who possessed the power to change the fate of all witches. I found her and brought her out of the North, but now her fate is unknown, and her people are trying to save her fading life…”

...military camp.

Neat dormitory, level training ground.

A sergeant with two years of service led new recruits in basic training.

The training varies depending on the enlistment date.

The first batch of new recruits underwent basic training under the command of their battalion commander.

"One, two, one! One, two, one!... Stand! Set!"

Looking at the still somewhat disordered formation in front of him, the 20th battalion commander, Grei, said that the formation had started out in a straight line, but after only a hundred meters, it was showing signs of collapsing. The soldiers' posture had also changed back to that of old farmers with hunched backs, unable to stand straight, and with uneven feet.

The squad leader, who was following the formation, entered the queue, waved his pointer, and corrected each student one by one.

"Stand up straight!" "Chest out!" "Take your feet in!" "I'm talking to you!" "Lift your face up!" "Where do you put your hands?!" "You dare to dodge?! I'll teach you to dodge!!"

One stern shout after another rang out. After each squad leader walked around, all the new recruits were beaten, and even those who hadn't done anything wrong received a symbolic two lashes.

The pointer struck the parts of their bodies that were not behaving properly with a heavy thud.

The new recruits all felt heartache, not for themselves, but for their uniforms.

This is the first time I've worn such nice and thick clothes.

Even the thickest clothes can't withstand daily whipping. It's fine if they get beaten up, but what if their clothes get ruined? These are the enlistment gifts His Highness gave them; they're their clothes now.

If it were the thin, light linen they used to wear, it would have torn long ago after seven or eight lashes.

The high-quality uniforms showed no signs of damage. However, new recruits tend to be overly anxious and subconsciously try to protect their clothes.

The consequence was that the recruits who made the most mistakes and dared to dodge were punished the most.

These stern-faced sergeants were ruthless. Knowing what the recruits were afraid of, they deliberately lashed at their uniforms. One recruit tried to take off his uniform before being beaten, but his squad leader got angry on the spot, pulled out a knife, and slashed the uniform in two. The once perfectly good uniform was almost ruined. Even after being sewn back together, there was a crooked seam, making it far less aesthetically pleasing than when it was intact.

The new recruits looked miserable and could only try their best to reduce their mistakes in military posture and formation, so as not to suffer the same fate.

Battalion Commander Gray watched coldly as the recruits' posture was corrected, and he immediately shouted, "Everyone, about-face!"

He waited five seconds and saw the recruits turn around in a flustered manner. After a few simple movements, their corrected military posture began to sag again.

"Forward! One-two-one! One-two-one!"

After taking only ten or so steps, the neat ranks of new recruits began to fall apart at a visible speed.

Gree shouted commands and marched forward in formation, continuing to lead the new recruits.

Seeing this, he sighed inwardly, but couldn't say anything.

Who told these guys to be new recruits who had only been in the army for less than two months?

It took him two years of training to finally achieve the standard military posture that His Highness barely approved.

An infantry battalion has only 275 new recruits, and is assisted by 25 squad leaders who have been in the army for more than a year. The training process is not difficult.

But this is just a glimpse into one corner of the military camp. In addition, there is an infantry battalion of 12 new recruits who are also undergoing various training tasks. Some are standing at attention, some are running laps, and some new recruits are taking turns to perform logistics duties under the guidance of veterans...

As he trained the new recruits day after day, he suddenly felt a slight coolness on his cheeks. He subconsciously looked up and saw thin snowflakes falling from the vast sky.

……

(End of this chapter)