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

Chapter 4: The Lord's Power is Unlimited

The next day, early in the morning.

While the dew was still condensing on the grass, Mohr arrived with yesterday's slaves.

They set off at dawn.

Roman woke up at this time as well.

Noble families have strict rules, and the Cracked Armor family is no exception. The first Cracked Armor Grand Duke was known for his martial prowess and required his descendants to get up before dawn and participate in morning training with the family knights.

Of course, this requirement no longer applies once you have your own fiefdom.

With rules and regulations gone, people can sleep in as late as they want.

Therefore, many nobles, after acquiring fiefdoms, quickly degenerated and their martial arts skills gradually declined.

Roman hadn't even had time to fall into depravity.

He went to bed very late last night, and his body's biological clock woke him up automatically.

When I woke up, I saw Aaron and Green training on the grass in front of the cabin. The two of them were wielding steel greatswords mixed with orchards with great force, and the amazing power could be felt from a distance.

They did not practice sparring; high-intensity mutual slashing would cause wear and tear on the weapons, rapidly reducing their durability.

Back in the Liejia family, there was someone specifically responsible for repairs, but that wasn't the case in Sig Town.

Roman didn't join in; he simply cleaned up the area around the cabin, clearing away the weeds.

[Planting Experience +1]

Roman conducted a fairly thorough study of Noah's Ark last night.

The main one is "Life Story", which has nine life skills.

Construction, planting, gathering, breeding, hunting, cooking, medicine, manufacturing, forging—it can be said to cover all walks of life.

He is overwhelmed and it's impossible for him to level up all those skills at the same time.

At this stage, we can only focus on improving the most important skills.

As the saying goes, "A year's plan starts in spring," and now, in early spring, the importance of planting skills is self-evident.

In most places, farmers need to cultivate 60 acres of land a year just to feed their families.

A more accurate statement would be that the yield per mu (a Chinese unit of area, approximately 0.067 hectares) was less than 100 jin (a Chinese unit of weight, approximately 0.5 kg), and the soil utilization rate was extremely low.

Although there are exceptions, they are just exceptions.

Sig Town, however, is like most areas, even more backward, with rudimentary farming practices based entirely on empiricism.

"We can't let those idiots ruin the land like this anymore."

Roman squatted on the ground, cursing as he pulled up weeds.

The passing maids and male slaves all carefully avoided this area, as they could tell that the lord was quite displeased and were afraid of incurring his wrath.

Just then, footsteps approached. Roman looked up and saw Moore walking cautiously towards him. He greeted him respectfully, "Master."

Roman stared blankly at the fool in front of him for a moment, making Moore's heart pound.

Then, he turned his gaze to the group of slaves shivering in the cold wind.

Roman stood up.

This is a basin, where natural mountain barriers isolate strong cold air, but that doesn't mean it's spring all year round. Before winter is completely over and the sun has fully risen, the spring chill is still a form of torture for these ragged slaves.

Mohr watched as Roman casually tossed a handful of weeds into the haystack.

He still couldn't understand what this esteemed gentleman was doing.

But he knew that Roman held the power of life and death over everyone, so he served him very cautiously. Even if he didn't understand many things, he would try his best to cooperate. Otherwise, even his father's uncle wouldn't have been able to get him out of the pigsty.

"Bob, cook a pot of porridge that will yield fifty bowls." Roman led Moore to the head chef.

Commoners and slaves generally ate two meals a day, at noon and in the evening, while nobles often ate four or five meals a day. "Master, one pot can't cook this much," the head chef Bob said with a worried look, knowing what Roman was going to do.

Roman raised his chin and said, "Then you can cook a few more pots."

Do I need him to teach me such trivial matters?

Roman was not a tyrant like Jie or Zhou; he wasn't so cruel as to make slaves work for him on empty stomachs—slavery was too backward. Even a feudal system would have been better; emperors didn't lack hungry soldiers.

“Sir, we are afraid we do not have enough food for you to fully display your benevolence,” said the steward Seth, appearing beside Roman.

"Do you think I'll starve to death?" Roman glanced at Moore.

The pressure immediately fell on Moore's side.

The latter immediately bowed his head to pledge his loyalty: "I will deliver all the grain reserves of Sige Town to you, sir."

"Excuse my bluntness, but this behavior doesn't conform to any rules." Seth felt that Roman had gone too far.

If yesterday's behavior was still within reason, then today Seth realized he couldn't keep up with Roman's drastic changes.

This is challenging the bottom line of our time!

In his memory, Roman had always been a very arrogant person since childhood. This arrogance was ingrained in his bones and he rarely showed it. Seth always felt that Roman looked down on everyone.

On the other hand, Roman was impeccable from childhood to adulthood, proficient in both culture and martial arts, and was one of the best among his many brothers and sisters, otherwise he would not have received the Duke's permission.

For this reason, he agreed to follow Roman to develop in this wild territory.

But something's not right now. This arrogance used to be restrained, but now it's suddenly overflowing, and overflowing at that, as if it has broken free from all shackles and constraints.

So you stop putting on airs when you're on your own turf?
“I am the rule.” Roman patted Seth on the shoulder and led Moore away from the makeshift kitchen.

His power as lord is limitless.

"That's so inelegant!" Seth frowned, looking disdainfully at the dog's... finger marks left on his shoulder. He gently brushed off the remaining dirt and turned to prepare the next set of cutlery.

They had no bowls for the slaves, so they could only bring out the tableware used by the nobles, and they couldn't use it anymore, because how could nobles use bowls that slaves had used?

very bad.

Seth suspected that if he continued working there, he might have to send money to Roman, otherwise Roman wouldn't have the money to pay his salary.

Roman didn't care about Seth's feelings. He said to Moore, "I need you to do three things."

"As you command."

Roman held up a finger: "First, send over all the information about Sig Town and hand it over to Deacon Seth."

"I'll do it right away!"

Roman continued, "Secondly, I'm giving you two clerks, and only three days. I need to know the entire population and occupations of Sigge Town and its villages. Do you understand?"

"Ming...understood."

Mohr remained silent for a moment for some reason.

He nervously wiped the sweat from his brow. Finding out the entire population in three days was a huge challenge for him.

Prior to this, he had never counted the exact population of Sig Town.

There's no need to go through all this trouble; all you need to do is pocket half of the harvest from Sig Town each year and pay a fixed tax to the Grand Duchy.

But now the nobility are in power.

Roman concluded, "Third, if the information you've gathered is vastly different from the information I've gathered, then you can expect to end up in the pigsty eating black bread."

Moor forced a smile that looked more like a grimace, but inwardly he thought: "We can't even get black bread in the pigsty."

"Go on." Roman patted Mohr on the back, watching the fat steward, who looked like a white pig, mount his horse and gallop towards the town of Sig.

(End of this chapter)