I was a lord farming, how did I become an emperor?

Chapter 170 Night Fury
……

……

"You want to do it yourself?"

Engelé, realizing what was happening, screamed in alarm, his voice filled with panic.

His eyes widened, and he hurriedly stepped forward.
"Your Excellency, you must be careful!"

"This warhorse kicked over three horse trainers, two of whom broke their bones!"

Rhodes turned his head, glanced at Engelé, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

Seeing that his persuasion was ineffective, Engel gritted his teeth and stepped forward again to plead, "Sir, your fall is no small matter!"

"Your Frostleaf Town still needs your command and arrangements; it's not worth getting yourself hurt!"

Engel advised Rhodes not because he was kind, but out of his instinct for self-preservation.

He brought that wild horse, and if Rhodes got injured while taming the beast, the people of Frostleaf would surely hold a grudge against him.

If he broke his arms or legs, Engel felt he wouldn't be able to leave alive.

In response to Engel's persuasion, Rhodes simply gave a faint "hmm".

Rhodes turned to look at Lawrence.
"Lawrence, go and get the feed."

"Yes, sir!" Lawrence immediately replied, turning and running into the tavern.

Engel stood there, stunned, looking at Lawrence with a puzzled expression, then at Rhodes, not daring to ask any more questions.

Soon, Lawrence returned carrying a wooden basin—the prepared concentrated feed.

The crushed roasted rye exudes the fresh aroma of grains, the shredded hay fibers are clearly visible, and it is dotted with a few beans.

Lawrence felt a pang of heartache looking at the feed in the bowl.

In many places, this bowl of food, after removing the hay inside, could be given to refugees.

However, Rhodes did not live a life of luxury.

Good warhorses need to eat some grain.

To maintain the fighting capacity of warhorses, they need to be provided with more refined feed than ordinary farm horses.

This specially formulated feed is rich in energy and nutrients and is easily digestible, providing the energy needed for warhorses during intensive training and combat.

However, this also means that not everyone can afford to raise a fine warhorse.

Lawrence handed the wooden basin to Rhodes and whispered, "Sir, is this enough for it to have a meal?"

"do not know."

Rod casually took the wooden tub with one hand and slowly walked to his warhorse.

The warhorse was intimidated by his imposing presence; its purple pupils contracted slightly, and its hooves took a step back.

Its strength was astonishing; it even pulled the truck tied behind it, making it creak and groan, and the wheels left a shallow mark on the ground.

The coachman was so frightened that he quickly pulled the carriage out, which stopped the carriage from rolling backward.

"Don't be afraid."

Rod's voice was gentle, using the same tone he used when speaking to Franny.

"You're mine now. As long as you behave and obey, no one will hurt you."

As he spoke, Rod slowly placed the wooden basin on the ground and then stepped back.

"Eat up, I won't hurt you."

"You are the strongest warhorse. I finally got you, how could I let anything happen to you?"

Before Rhodes could even react, Engel breathed a sigh of relief.

It turns out it was just feeding the horses.

Engelé smiled. “Your Excellency, this warhorse is extremely wary. It’s impossible for it to eat just because you feed it.”

"But you don't need to worry. The groom who takes care of it can stay here for a week. Once it gets used to your environment, there won't be any problems."

As he spoke, Engelé waved to the coachman beside him and introduced him, "This is..."

Before Engelé could finish speaking, the warhorse's ears twitched slightly, and it lowered its head, bringing its nose close to the wooden basin to sniff the feed.

The heavy breathing stirred up a small cloud of dust.

It raised its head and looked at Rhodes again, as if to confirm something.

Then it carefully licked a mouthful of rye, curled its tongue around a few grains, and slowly chewed.

But its eyes remained alert, and it stole a glance at Rhodes.

After realizing that Rod was not approaching, it began to rapidly roll its tongue and swallowed the fine grains in the wooden basin.

The crisp sound of wheat and the rustling of hay mingled together.

The warhorse ate with relish, its tail swishing gently, clearly in a good mood.

"This...how is this possible? It actually ate it!"

Engelé's mouth gaped open, and he couldn't help but ask, "What, what's going on?"

"Eat slowly, there's more." Rhodes stood up, dusted off his hands, and smiled faintly.

"Perhaps it's because the food in Frostleaf Town tastes better than the food where you are."

Rhodes' voice was calm, yet tinged with a hint of mockery.

Even the most fierce warhorse can eventually be tamed. With the bonus from the Breeding Lord title, it will not be hostile towards you.

Now that this warhorse has eaten his feed, it is naturally his horse.

Engel gave an awkward laugh and replied, "You're right, perhaps the feed you prepared is more to his liking."

But in reality, Engels certainly didn't believe it.

Even the most exquisite delicacies wouldn't be appreciated by this stubborn warhorse.

The warhorse was still eating its feed with its head down, and the grain in the wooden basin was rapidly decreasing.

Purple Eyes clearly saw Rhodes approaching, but it still didn't look up, quietly eating its food.

Eat slowly, there's plenty to go around.

Rhodes reached out and stroked the warhorse's mane. "Shall we give you a name?"

"Your name is Black Hair?"

"puff!"

The warhorse exhaled a puff of hot air, and grass clippings flew up from the basin.

He was clearly expressing his dissatisfaction.

Rhodes chuckled. "Just kidding, let's call him Night Fury."

"Death in the night sounds rather violent."

As he spoke, Rhodes stroked the warhorse's mane again.

This time it didn't react, it just quietly ate the food in the bowl.

"Alright, Night Fury will be your name."

Roderick spoke calmly, patting Night Fury's back with satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Engel and the groom who was taking care of the Night Fury were completely speechless.

Is Lord Rhodes talking to this warhorse?

Is this right?
And when did this warhorse become so good-tempered?
When can I touch it freely while it's eating?
"Your Excellency, this..."

Just as Engel was about to ask how he did it, Rhodes looked at Engel and asked,
Does it have its saddle, reins, and bit?

"no no……"

Before Engelé could finish speaking, Rhodes looked directly at Lawrence.

"Go and get a set."

"Okay sir."

Lawrence immediately gave the order, and the soldiers jogged back.

"Do you want to ride it?" Engelé asked quickly upon seeing this.

“Of course, warhorses are meant to be ridden,” Rhodes replied casually.

Engel's face showed pain again, and he quickly whispered words of comfort.
"It's one thing for it to eat the food you give it, but it's another thing for it to let you ride it..."

“I’m not saying you can’t do it, sir… but our Lord Harlan fell off this very horse and was bedridden for three months!”

Engel, disregarding his lord's pride, quickly said, "Even the agile Knight Olya injured her ankle and has been resting for several days!"

"don’t worry."

Rhodes looked at Engelé and said, "I won't blame you even if I fall."

Rod understood Engelé's thoughts and directly rejected his offer.

After the guards brought over the horse tack, Rhodes threw himself on Night Fury without any hesitation.

Night Fury squirmed uncomfortably, but eventually obediently let Rhodes put on the horse tack.

"The current horse tack isn't the right size, so we'll have to make do for now."

Rod gently patted Night Fury's head and put a bit and reins on it.

Engel was still worried and instructed, "My lord, you must be careful..."

As soon as he finished speaking, Rod stepped into the stirrups and mounted the horse!

hiss--

The Night Fury stood up on the spot, its two front hooves suddenly rising high into the air!

Engel was so frightened that he retreated repeatedly.

"Be careful, sir! It's going berserk!"

Engel knew very well that this was how it had been when Baron Harun rode it before, and then the warhorse started twisting its body, spinning, jumping and going crazy!

However, the scene he imagined did not occur this time.

The Night Fury landed lightly on its forehooves, exhaling hot air from its nostrils, and gently pawing the ground with its hooves, producing a low, muffled thud.

"What's wrong? Are your hooves itchy?"

Rod gently stroked the horse's mane. "Then let's go out for a walk."

He gently pulled on the reins, turning the Night Fury to face the gates of Frostleaf.

"Let's go, Night Fury."

Rod gently squeezed the horse's belly.

As if it had heard a command, Night Fury suddenly exerted its strength and darted out!

In an instant, the earth shook violently, and the rapid sound of horses' hooves flashed by. Night Fury, carrying Rhodes, struck the town gate like a black lightning bolt!
Everyone in the Icehoof Caravan stood there dumbfounded, and Engel was so shocked that he couldn't speak!

He suddenly realized that Baron Rhodes was not reckless, but possessed abilities that were hard for ordinary people to imagine.

Lawrence stood with his arms crossed in front of him, watching silently, as if he had expected everything.

"Don't be surprised, our lord is always so amazing."

Lawrence's face was full of pride.
"You, no, it's better for people like us not to make unfounded assumptions."

……

……

The sky was overcast, and the wind was swirling snowflakes.

The cold wind in the Blade's Edge Mountains felt like knives scraping against your face.

For most savage tribes, life is as bitter as chewing on frozen tree bark.

The Eagle Feather Tribe is no exception.

In a semi-underground shack built of wood and animal hides.

The damp air, thick with the stench of sweat and the smoke of burning firewood, stung and brought tears to one's eyes. On a pile of hay, a thin, bony little boy rubbed his emaciated belly.
"Hungry……"

His eyes were fixed on the roasting meat over the fire.

The meat sizzled and dripped with oil, its aroma filling his nostrils and making his throat tighten.

He licked his chapped lips and couldn't help but swallow.

"What are you hungry for!"

The woman's voice was shrill, her rough fingers pointed at him, and her tone was full of frustration.

"Go to sleep if you're hungry! That piece of meat belongs to your father."

The little boy shrank back, lowered his head, and dared not utter a sound.

It wasn't that the boy's mother was strict.

In winter, there is no extra warmth in the savage tribes; survival is the only way.

Food was scarce, and the grain stored up in the fall had long been depleted.

Everyone could only barely survive on a little bit of dried meat and a porridge made from tree bark powder, wild leeks, and fern root powder.

Only when you're lucky can you occasionally catch an unlucky wild rabbit in the trap.

Wild deer and grouse are generally unthinkable; only skilled hunters can obtain them.

Therefore, this hard-won wild rabbit should be left to the men who go out to gather firewood and find food.

In winter, the campfire burns almost all day long.

Firewood is our lifeline.

Once the fire goes out, the whole family will freeze solid.

As for boys and women, they only get one meal a day.

Only by saving money like this can we get through the long winter.

"This year's harvest was poor; the grain we planted was soaked and rotted by the heavy rain."

The woman lowered her voice as she looked at the child's pitiful appearance.

She turned around and poked at the fire, sparks crackling and popping.

"Just bear with it, we'll get through this winter."

The little boy bit his lip, but his eyes still couldn't help but steal glances at the piece of roast meat.

But they did not ask for any more food.

The bearded man sat on the other side of the fire, silently staring at the ground.

The child's eyes felt like needles piercing his heart.

He sighed, his rough voice breaking the silence in the cave.

"When I go to collect the branches later, I'll set up a few more traps and see if I can catch a couple more rabbits."

After saying that, he stood up, grabbed the roasted meat, and took two big bites.

He only took a bite of the palm-sized piece of roasted meat, and put the rest back on the rack.

"Let's go, don't let the fire go out."

The man left a comment, lifted the tent flap, bent down, and crawled out of the hole in the ground.

The wind blew in through the cave entrance, making the fire sway wildly.

"Come back early if the weather's bad!"

The woman shouted a reminder from behind, turned around and pinched the boy hard, but still picked up the grill and gave it to him.

Outside the tent, the man picked up a rope from the rack, chewing on roasted meat as he walked into the vast white forest.

In some parts of the mountains, the snow was knee-deep, and boots squeaked as they stepped on it.

He grabbed a handful of snow from a tree and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it with a crunching sound.

Wild people don't have many rules, and there are no mandatory orders that water must be boiled before it can be drunk.

Snow in winter is their main way of replenishing water.

The fire must not be kept burning; firewood is the most important thing.

The cold wind in the forest intensified, and the man squinted as he searched for thick, withered branches.

Heavy snow blocked the mountain pass, and there was almost no dry firewood available, so we could only try to select firewood that wasn't too wet.

These damp firewood need to be dried before they can be burned without producing black smoke.

The man gathered firewood while setting traps in the woods.

He pulled out several vine ropes from his waist and skillfully tied them into knots with his fingers.

The trap was very simple—a ring, hung on the snow path that rabbits often traveled.

Once the rabbit crawls inside, the ring tightens, and the more it struggles, the tighter it gets.

In the end, the rabbit could only strangle itself to death.

He set up three traps, carefully examined the knots, and nodded in satisfaction.

These traps are his promises to his children, even if the hope is slim.

Gathering firewood is a tedious and laborious task, especially in the snow-covered mountains.

After gathering enough, the man laid the hemp rope on the snow and then piled the firewood on the folded rope.

After the firewood is placed, take one end of the rope, thread it through the bend at the other end, pull it tight, and tie a knot. The firewood is now bundled up.

Then the man suddenly pulled up the firewood and carried it on his back.

Just as he was about to leave, a slight rustling sound suddenly came from the woods on the hillside.

The man froze abruptly, gently put down the firewood on his back, and instinctively reached for the stone axe at his waist.

He held his breath, his eyes fixed on the direction of the sound.

If you're lucky, you might catch a hare, a deer, or a grouse.

If you're unlucky, you might encounter wild boars or a pack of wolves.

Whatever it is, we must be very careful.

Just as the man was pondering, a giant wolf with a body entirely of silver-white slowly appeared on the hillside.

Its fur is glossy, its eyes are sharp, and its gait is slow yet extremely dangerous.

It’s over.

The man's heart raced, and he unconsciously gripped the stone axe tighter.

"If I were you, I wouldn't pull out that broken stone axe."

A cold voice came from behind the hillside, and a figure wearing a fur coat slowly appeared, accompanied by a wild wolf.

Immediately afterwards, more figures appeared on the hillside.

Beside each figure followed a wild wolf, its eyes fierce and its teeth gleaming coldly.

However, the man's eyes suddenly lit up, and he straightened up, staring excitedly at the figure in front of him.
"Auras!"

The man shouted excitedly!
The figure on the hillside was none other than his former friend, Aulas, the leader of the Wolfhoof tribe!
"Don't call me Aulas, Tucson, call me Wolfhoof."

Wolf Hoof stepped down and solemnly said, "This is the name bestowed upon me by the great Holy Lord."

"Isn't Wolfhoof the name of your tribe?"

The one called Tucson paused for a moment, then immediately realized what he meant.

"Wait, you just mentioned Holy Lord...what Holy Lord?"

"Of course, he is the legendary master of all the sacred lands of the savages."

The White Frost Prophet walked down from the mountaintop, leaning on his cane.

Six months of comfortable life in Frostleaf Town had drastically reduced his already limited physical strength, and several days of travel had left him exhausted.

Fortunately, I brought a lot of dried meat, so my strength recovered quickly.

After the White Frost Prophet stepped forward, Wolf Hoof stepped aside and introduced him, saying, "This was originally a prophet from the White Frost tribe, but now he is the only prophet by the Holy Lord's side."

Before Wolfhoof could finish his introduction, White Frost Prophet frowned and stared at Tusen.

"Can't you see that the beast spirit of the Wolfhooves tribe has awakened?"

"Beast Spirit Awakening?"

Tucson's gaze swept over the surrounding Steppenwolves, then he glanced at the silver giant wolf, and instantly realized what was happening.

"It really is true! It's actually true!"

Tucson stared at the wolf's hooves in disbelief, his eyes filled with shock and confusion.
"So, you've come here for..."

"The Holy Lord sensed that you were sinking into coldness and suffering, and sent us to save you from the abyss."

The White Frost Prophet said without changing his expression.

"The Holy Lord is merciful, but if you are unwilling to accept His salvation, then we will move on to the next tribe."

"I am willing!"

Tucson instinctively shouted it out, then shook his head.

"No, no, no, I'm willing, but I have to ask our leader first!"

The White Frost Prophet frowned.

"In your heart, is your leader more important, or is the Holy Lord greater?"

"This……"

Tucson lowered his head, looking somewhat hesitant.

"answer me!"

The White Frost Prophet demanded sharply, "Don't look down, look at me and give me the answer!"

Tucson subconsciously raised his head and stammered, "Holy, Holy Lord!"

"Very good, you are worth saving."

The White Frost Prophet nodded slightly, "Now you are a subject of the Holy Lord."

The White Frost Prophet waved his hand, and his attendant immediately took out a piece of black bread and handed it to Tucson.

"This is a gift from the Holy Lord to you."

"Is this for me?"

Tucson took the black bread with trembling hands, and incredulously held it to his nose, taking a deep sniff.

Fragrant!
I've never smelled bread like this before!

The last time I ate it was a year ago, but that bread was burnt black and had a bitter taste!

But the whole area in front of me smells wonderful.

"Can I take it back for my child to eat?"

Tucson swallowed hard and asked in a trembling voice.

"casual,"

The White Frost Prophet glanced at Tucson, "But I hope you understand, this is just the most ordinary food in the Holy Land."

"You mean, they eat this every day in the Holy Land?"

Tucson looked at Wolfhoof in disbelief, who nodded vigorously.

"alright,"

The White Frost Prophet disliked Tusen's naive and unsophisticated manner and urged him on.

"Now, take us to meet the chief of your Eagle Feather tribe."

(End of this chapter)