Pioneer Wizard's Notebook

"Has the plantation run out of food?"

Linde calmly looked at the manor steward, awaiting his reply.

Seemingly afraid of being blamed, Pullman's body trembled with tension, and he quickly nodded and said:

"Yes, young master, yes, just as I said, our food supplies are running low. Whether it's barley, rye, peas, turnips, dried meat, or fish, there's not enough to continue supplying the militia. We're about to run out!"

"The last remaining portion is barely enough to sustain the manor for a few days; we really can't give it to the commoners outside!"

Pullman gestured wildly, describing the situation repeatedly, hoping that Lind would stop distributing the food.

Seeing him emphasize it again, Linde remained silent for a moment, then nodded, indicating that he understood.

"Come to the lobby for the meeting."

Another meeting of officials was held in the manor hall.

Knight William, lectern Hibbert, and butler Pullman took their seats in turn.

When everyone arrived and heard that there wasn't enough food, their expressions turned serious.

Sitting at the long table, William angrily questioned Pullman:

"When the army was being conscripted, the food reserves were confirmed to last eight days. Today is only the sixth day, and you're saying they're gone?"

"Do you know what this means?! The Blossoming Territory may not have died at the hands of the Icefield Demons, but it will perish because of this!"

Even when fighting the Ice Demon, William had never felt as angry as he did now.

During his reconnaissance trip these past two days, in addition to patrolling the Ice Mist Forest, he also went to the Mecca River.

As expected, an ice storm enveloped the upstream area, making it difficult to approach.

It wasn't until about 30 kilometers away that the frozen river surface was exposed, making it possible to break the ice and fish.

According to William's original plan.

Upon returning to the estate, he needed to immediately organize the militia and bring tools to try ice fishing in this section of the river.

Due to the long distance traveled and the great uncertainty involved in fishing, the entire process would take at least four days.

Before the team even set off, they were told the estate was out of food? What a joke! Did they want the militia to starve to death on the snowy road?!

Pullman shuddered, terrified, and quickly explained:

"Grinding grains involves consumption, and the daily distribution of grain is difficult to be precise. In addition, some of the grain has been stored for a long time and is no longer edible. When you calculate it, there is not enough grain. I really have no choice."

William looked at his injured right arm, his anger subsided a little, and he forced himself to calm down.

"I'm sorry, I lost my composure just now, but we have to think of a way. Without supplies, the team can't cross the snow and wind on the road."

Pullman breathed a sigh of relief: "Please don't mind, but the manor really can't provide any more food."

The depleted food supplies disrupted William's original plans, causing his handsome face to scrunch up in an unpleasant way.

Linde asked Hippo, who was in charge of people's livelihood, "Do the townspeople have enough food stored in their homes?"

Hibbert said solemnly, "Most residents have run out of food and are relying on the manor for supplies. A few have some stored grain, but the most important livestock have been devoured by the Ice Demons."

The land of Prosperous Flower Territory is barren, the forests are dangerous, and the lords collect taxes, so for ordinary people, saving food throughout the year is just a pipe dream.

In previous years, the residents of Chunzhi Baihua Town relied almost entirely on fishing in the frozen river for their winter food.

Now, blocked by the ice storm, most of the residents would have perished silently in the snow and ice if not for the food provided by Sunflower Farm.

A small number of wealthy families are in a better situation.

However, when they arrived at the manor, they chose to hide their livestock in the cellar, which was then devoured and contaminated by the Ice Demons, plunging them into a similar crisis of food shortage.

This also means that the plan to have residents bring their own food to go fishing cannot be realized.

William asked hopefully, "Perhaps the residents will save the food that has been distributed to them these days?"

Hibbert nodded and said, "That's true. If this portion of grain is forcibly confiscated and distributed by the estate, it might allow the militia to hold out for two or three days and head to the Mecca River to fish."

As for what would happen to the more than one hundred women and girls who remained, Hilbert did not mention it.

The manor's current predicament means it can no longer take care of everyone.

William's expectations were dashed, and he turned pale.

He kept his oath to protect the territory.

If he were to push the townspeople to their deaths just to survive, he couldn't believe he would ever have the courage to hold the sword again.

Hibbert looked at Lind in the head seat and said, "We have to make a decision. Every minute wasted will only make things worse."

The three officials, each with a different expression, all looked at Lind, awaiting his decision.

The atmosphere in the hall was tense.

"A food problem?" Linde looked towards the entrance of the hall. "Then let's address them one by one, starting with the food shortage in the warehouses."

The sound of soldiers' footsteps came from outside the door.

William looked puzzled, Hilbert seemed thoughtful, and Pullman looked panicked.

Soldier Philip pushed in a small cart of grain, accompanied by his wolfhounds barking excitedly.

William asked, "What is this?"

"Reporting to you gentlemen, this was found in a hidden room in the cellar of Butler Pullman's house. According to the wolfhounds, it can be confirmed that it is grain from the manor warehouse, a total of six hundred pounds of rye."

William stared wide-eyed at Pullman in disbelief.

The latter's hands and feet were already ice-cold, and his body was stiff in place.

When Linde arrived in front of the grain truck, he wasn't too surprised; soldier Philip was just following his orders to search it.

He did not pay special attention to the loss of grain in the warehouse.

But with the spiritual blessing of memory, it had already memorized every resident of the town, as well as the amount of food they were entitled to receive each day after completing their tasks.

Linde was not a careless manor lord; to try to appease him with so-called losses would be to underestimate a wizard.

"Six hundred pounds of rye."

Linde looked at the amount of grain that had been secretly hoarded and sighed.

In the prosperous southern plains, this amount of grain would be worth less than 6 silver coins, and no one would give it a second glance if it were placed in front of those lords and nobles.

In the North, however, this was a family's hope for surviving the winter, the last straw that nearly destroyed Sunflower Plantation.

Lind looked at Pullman and said, "Do you have anything else to explain?"

Pullman was lifted up by the soldiers, shaking his head as he said:

"No, no, young master, I have committed an unforgivable crime. But, but please know that this is my fault alone! My wife and children were absolutely not involved! Please forgive them!"

Seeing the man looking at him, soldier Philip nodded and said, "Sir, what he said is true. The bewildered look in the eyes of women and children doesn't lie."

"In that case, they will be given a reasonable arrangement."

Lind walked toward the gate, and Philip helped Pullman along.

The group arrived at the open space beneath the manor wall.

Here lies a flat, rectangular stone, dark red in color, which was the execution platform used by the Senwright family to punish criminals.

Pullman's neck was pressed against a rock, with William and Hilbert standing by as witnesses.

The surrounding militiamen also stopped training and looked on nervously.

Young Broad and Mark were crowded among the militia.

Seeing this, Mark's face darkened. "Execution? It seems the manor's food supply is really running out."

Broad didn't seem to mind, saying optimistically, "I heard we're going to the Mecca River soon. If we don't have enough food, we'll just go fishing there. That's how it's always been."

"They're different."

Mark pulled his collar tighter. "It wasn't this cold at this time of year. You'd be out of breath just walking from the town to the manor. How many people do you think would die on the way to fish in the distant river, braving the freezing wind and heavy snow?"

Brod retorted, "We even defeated the Ice Demons! As long as we persevere under that lord's leadership, we will definitely reach the Mecca River safely!"

Mark snorted, wanting to refute the claim by citing the horrors of ice storms recorded in books.

But then he suddenly remembered something and changed his mind, agreeing, "You're right, we will succeed."

As he spoke, he looked around.

Few of the surrounding militiamen were as optimistic as Brod; most wore expressions of unease and fear.

Mentioning the ice storm at this time will only worsen everyone's mood.