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

Chapter 384 A Necessary Death
Roman detests war, but being on this land, surrounded by enemies he must defeat, war is unavoidable.

Roman didn't expect peace to be achieved through negotiation; he only wanted to make one statement—whoever dared to invade this land, Roman would use their head as a component of the pyramid.

Only ruthlessness and brutality can deter villains!

He brought the war to a temporary end with the force of an autumn wind sweeping away fallen leaves.

However, if the enemy is not given enough deterrence, the Black Iron nobles will soon return—never underestimate the power of a kingdom.

These guys are here with the intention of crushing him; all the Black Iron nobles are involved, those with money contribute money, and those without contribute their labor. Therefore, his response can't be too hesitant or indecisive.

A clean cut!
One counts as one!
All must die!

If Roman treated nobles this way, one can only imagine how he treated mercenaries.

In other words, he didn't capture enough prisoners, otherwise he would have really shown everyone what it meant to slaughter ten thousand people.

So when Gweil mentioned a certain mercenary to him, Roman didn't care. In this era, there are no innocent people, and the perpetrators are never innocent.

However, Gweil was stunned when she heard Roman's nonchalant reply.

According to custom, a small number of prisoners of war would be executed, while the majority would become slaves, serving as servants to Roman. Those who performed well would either become citizens or be converted into soldiers.

But now that she knows those people are all going to die, Gweil is deeply shaken.

She whispered, "They're not all bad people."

Roman glanced at the little witch. He hadn't rested well lately and wasn't in a good mood, so he didn't want to dwell on the topic.

Admittedly, no one is born a villain, and it is possible to persuade evil to turn to good, but he doesn't have time to do those things. The current situation is too bad, and he prefers a razor to a comb.

“I am the lord, I don’t have that much energy to discern a person’s true nature.”

"There will be a trial by combat..."

"What does a trial by combat prove? The victor is innocent? Gweil, I don't remember you being this naive."

Gweil tilted her head slightly, bit her lip, and looked silently at the land beside her. The land was barren and infertile, with wild grass struggling to draw nutrients.

Her thoughts drifted back to when Borg was alive.

The savage lived in the mountains, mad and pathetic. Who killed him? He had died twenty years ago.

Gweil believed that the chaos of the world had turned people evil, and the notorious thief Borg confessed his sins to her before he died.

She believed the mercenary had his reasons. She saw the poor old wildcat and didn't understand its cunning, so the witch agreed to the witch hunter's request.

Everyone had their own ideas, but Roman knew nothing about them.

Roman has always been indifferent to other people's opinions as long as they don't involve his grand plans.

All he knew was that whether an individual was good or bad, innocent or not, whether they struggled or not, were all irrelevant. All those lives would be submerged in the tide of the times; some would be reborn, and some would fall into hell.

The crisis in Plenty City is not over yet. He now needs a brutal massacre to deter foreign enemies and tell this land—come here, for there is only death.

"Are there no exceptions?"

"That's not within my consideration!" Roman said bluntly. No matter who came, it wouldn't matter, not even a witch.

However, the witch in front of them was rather special. In the two years since Gweil displayed her miracles, not only did those fools regard her as the incarnation of the goddess of agriculture, but even Roman's army revered her and was practically ready to kowtow to her.

Gweil could grow enough food for half the city, and her prestige here was second only to Roman himself.

Many people could see her leading her little donkey to various places. If Roman hadn't forbidden anyone from approaching Gweil, otherwise it would have been a crime, and the residents might have spontaneously supported Gweil as the second lord.

It should be understood that controlling food means controlling all of humanity.

The little witch comes from a humble background and usually puts in a lot of effort, but she is easily satisfied and rarely asks for anything.

Roman patiently added, "Gervais, I want to end this chaotic world, but it's not you and me fighting on the front lines, it's my army. I want to reduce their casualties, otherwise I'm just disrespecting their lives."

Roman put a huge hat on her head, and Guillermo del Toro was sullen.

“Alright, Roman, what you want to do is what I want to do.” Gweil compromised. She couldn’t go against Roman’s will; she felt he must have his reasons. No one should doubt his decisions.

She firmly believed that only this man could save this land. Whoever he wanted to die, that person's death was a matter beyond question—it was a necessary death.

"Gerviel, these are not things for you to worry about. You should go back first." Roman patted Gerviel's head. He wielded immense power and could decide the life or death of any mercenary with a single word, but not all prisoners were mercenaries.

The professional mercenary was incredibly cunning. He would slip away as soon as he sensed trouble, running away incredibly fast. As a result, he didn't capture many soldiers this time. Most of the prisoners were logistics personnel who served with the army—the mercenaries ate meat, while these commoners couldn't even get meat soup.

Roman opted for a swift and decisive strike, but the knife wouldn't actually fall on them.

After Gweil left, Roman carried out the execution of all prisoners of war. During the execution, some resisted and refused to be killed, causing a great commotion. They were eventually suppressed by the White Knight.

The corpses on the battlefield were collected and piled up with mud to form mounds.

The mass graves, located beside the Black Iron Avenue, numbered eight in total, each ten meters high. They reeked of a terrible stench, like a living hell—hundreds and thousands of skulls and rotting flesh were embedded in the soil like reliefs, their bare eyes staring blankly at the Black Iron Avenue.

I believe that no one who passes by can ignore its existence.

Seeing such a scene on the march, Roman couldn't believe that someone with a weak will could continue.

No one would morally judge him. Princess White Steel greatly admired this—a kind farmer might kill his family, but a kind lord could drag his land into the abyss.

The princess clearly understood the benefits of instilling fear in the enemy; when the enemy also revered you, then you had the foundation to conquer them.

But the complicated matters brought about by war cannot be resolved simply by killing prisoners of war; there is also the post-war handling.

Wars are fought on logistics and administrative efficiency, but the new regime established by Roman was too immature. The new generation of administrators had not yet matured, and the old generation of officials were either too few or incompetent. He had to personally oversee many things.

For example, the first step is to determine the number of dead and injured.

"578 people were killed. Not only did the captain of the 7th Heavy Armored Battalion, Wei Ma, die, but even the captain of the 3rd Special Forces Battalion died?"

“Yes, Your Highness, they are all very brave!” The one who answered was Ed, the captain of the 13th Ordinary Battalion. He was still young, but his face looked weathered.

Roman sighed softly, "I know."

The army in the valley suffered heavy losses, with more than 500 dead and far more wounded.

They did a good enough job.

Without a blocking force, if the enemy were to enter the city of abundance, the casualties would not be five hundred soldiers, but five thousand villagers, and the damage to production would be incalculable.

However, Roman felt heartbroken at losing two battalion commanders at once, as the people who held the positions of battalion commander were his senior apostles.

But this is unavoidable; there are many other unavoidable things.

Soon, the black crow brought more terrible news.

Intelligence from Blackbird Forest indicates that Roman's river valley troops deployed in Blackbird Forest have completed their mission, and their battalion commander has also been killed.

The Black Iron Alliance was divided into four routes. Roman defeated three of them in three days, but the fourth route has yet to be seen.

The fourth army was slow to advance because its soldiers were the most diverse and its route was the most rugged.

Theoretically speaking, after three days, they should have arrived by now, even at the slowest pace.

However, Roman had previously built a military fortress in Blackbird Forest with the intention of diverting the attention of the fourth army. When the mercenaries on the upper route passed through Slater Fortress and Shane Fortress, they were to reserve 10,000 troops to besiege the two fortresses, so as not to be caught off guard when attacking Plenty City.

Makor had ordered the Fourth Army to march swiftly and quickly encircle and surround Plenty. However, the nobles of the Fourth Army showed little interest, perhaps due to poor organization or lack of preparation for actual combat—they not only failed to force a march or disperse their forces, but instead engaged in a direct confrontation with Blackbird Fortress.

The fourth coalition force, numbering around 100,000, has made no progress in recent days, focusing its attacks on the strategically important Blackbird Fortress. However, Blackbird Fortress, defended by only 500 river valley defenders, has stubbornly withstood the onslaught of 100,000 men.

The 500 defenders suffered more than half their losses, and the rest were all wounded. The highest commander of Blackbird Forest, the battalion commander, also died in battle yesterday.

Now that the dust has settled, the nobles of the fourth route received the news, and their large army scattered like birds and beasts, completely a mob.

After the crisis was resolved, the think tank immediately sent a letter via crow, relaying the captain's dying words: "Your Highness Roman, I will defend this ideal land with my life and not allow any thug to defile it."

(End of this chapter)