When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#524 - Nagmi's Doubts (Part 1) (Free Chapter)

On the vast plains, the autumn wind swirled with fiery clouds. Between the fiery clouds and the fields, a team of dozens of knights traveled north along the road.

They wore dirty leather armor, each riding a small mountain horse or even a mule, the arming garments beneath their leather armor patched up.

Some even had the gaunt, hungry look of those who were starving.

They were knights returning from the Mander battlefield. Given their amount of exercise on the battlefield and the military rations provided, they were indeed not eating enough.

Leading the group were Sechinger, with small braids tied to his beard and wearing a greasy leather robe, and Myra, dressed in a neat woolen jacket.

"How much further to Sour Gourd Town?" Sechinger asked Myra, who was leading the way.

Myra looked at the nearby landmarks and houses, pointed further ahead, and said, "That's the former Taunton Manor, now called Taunton Hundred District. Cross that hill, and you'll be close to Sour Gourd Town."

"You've torn down all the fences and cut down the forests. I can't even recognize where this is," Sechinger couldn't help but sigh.

Myra was taken aback by Sechinger's words. "It's not that bad, is it? The changes aren't that significant."

For Myra, the changes were, of course, not significant, but for Sechinger, it was different.

Three years ago, when he came to Sour Gourd Town, he could still see various manor signs and fences along the way. The estate managers would receive the news in advance and greet him at every intersection, offering water and gifts.

Although it might only be some simple local products, it was still a token of goodwill and respect.

But now, they were like a group of ordinary merchants, strolling along the dirt road, and the working farmers wouldn't even lift their heads.

Although he was mentally prepared, Sechinger still felt a little uncomfortable.

This discomfort came partly from the fact that the Earl's title was no longer effective, and partly from envy, jealousy, and hatred towards the Salvation Army.

As the most important lord in North County, the Salvation Army had not contacted him at all so far. Instead, he had to contact the Salvation Army himself.

These farmer armies had taken away the spoils of war that originally belonged to him—half of Iberia Township, which Melia had promised him.

According to the original promise with Melia, their mountain earls would move their territories to the plain counties, and move the outsiders to the mountains to be miners and loggers.

As long as they could defeat the Church Army of Mander County, Langsand County would sooner or later belong to the North Mountain people.

But now, the roasted pork on the plates of these North nobles had been snatched away by a group of farmers who didn't know where they came from.

If they had defeated Duke Cush, or only occupied Fort Jeanne, then Sechinger would have had something to say.

But now, this group of farmers and petty citizens had broken through three decree companies in a row, and defeated the Allied Forces of Nidersar and Golden River Township.

Sechinger couldn't figure out how this group of farmers and tanners had defeated the knights.

The fact was right in front of him, and he had to admit it.

Of these two forces, the former need not be said, and the latter he had fought several times, and he was very clear about their strength.

Even they were defeated by the Salvation Army, so there was no chance for him to compete.

Fortunately, there was enough land in the four plain counties, and it would not be difficult to find a fief in the other counties in the future.

But before that, he had to see how capable this Salvation Army was, and see if it was really as miraculous as it was being touted.

Dozens of knights, in the wind carrying the smell of firewood smoke, crossed the bare hill, and the dark orange roofs of Sour Gourd Town shrouded in cooking smoke came into view.

"Father, look over there, so many soybeans," Sechinger's little daughter, Nagmi, excitedly pointed in one direction.

Looking in the direction his daughter was pointing, in the fields outside the town, patches of tall bean stalks swayed in the wind, and the dark yellow pods collided with each other, making a rustling sound like waves.

Soybeans planted at the end of August had finally reached maturity after 180 days of growth. In the setting sun, a large number of farmers were still bending over and harvesting soybeans nervously.

Artificial irrigation rivers and diversion canals reflected the red light of the setting sun, and the jumping waves could almost ignite the clear river water.

The sound of the river flowing, the songs of the farmers working, and the collision of the soybean stalks, even though they were miles away, Sechinger seemed to still be able to hear them clearly.

"What a good piece of land," Sechinger didn't know what kind of mood to say such a thing.

His hometown only had a piece of high, cold, and arid land and a trickle that sometimes existed and sometimes didn't, barely enough for grazing and farming.

In the five mountain counties, any flat land suitable for farming would be occupied by densely packed farmland.

But their annual net yield per acre was only more than 70 pounds. When times were bad, a harvest could be completely wiped out if the weather was too cold or the river was cut off.

A large number of mountain people became mercenaries, not because they didn't love their hometown, not because they were naturally brave and fierce, but because they couldn't get enough to eat in the mountains.

Even if the territory had a good harvest in the past few years, a large number of mountain people still starved and froze to death during the winter.

On this point, Sechinger had to acknowledge Horn's favor.

If he hadn't discovered how to eat potato roots, and with the abundance of grass, trees, snow, and water in the mountains, it was estimated that a large number of people would have starved to death during last year's flood and soaring grain prices, let alone having the surplus to launch a war against Mander County.

"Yes," Myra's eyes also became blurred, but he quickly regained his composure. "This piece of land is an experimental field, planned by the agricultural director of the Holy Plow Abbey. If he confirms that it can increase production, then he will be expected to enter the Senate. Guess who that person is?"

Sechinger was stunned by Myra's words for a long time: "Who? Do I know him?"

"Hahaha, of course you know him. The name of the agricultural director is Enrico Arco."

"Little Enrico?"

"Uncle Enrico?!"

Sechinger and his daughter exclaimed at the same time. Enrico's mother was Sechinger's aunt, so the two should be considered cousins.

Previously, Sechinger occasionally came to Langsand County to spend the winter, and basically stayed at Enrico's manor.

But wasn't Enrico an Earl? According to the Salvation Army's policies, even if he didn't go to jail, he should have become a commoner. How could he still be the agricultural director?

"Isn't Uncle Enrico a commoner?" Nagmi couldn't help but ask.

"Could it be that commoners can't be agricultural directors?"

"Can I ask what his planting plan is?" Sechinger was also concerned about agricultural matters.

Nagmi then asked, "Are his family still there?"

Myra ignored Nagmi's wild questioning and directly answered Earl Sechinger's question:

"I don't know much, but it seems that Lord Enrico intercrops these fields with corn and wheat, and then plants soybeans at the end of August. After harvesting in December, he spreads a layer of burnt grass and wood ash.

Next spring, he will plant vetch flowers and plow them into the soil when plowing..."

"Oh, goddamn it!" Sechinger's rude cry interrupted Myra's narration.

Myra looked at Sechinger, whose face was red and thick, in surprise, not understanding what he was doing.

"Enrico! You manure digger!" The more Myra told him, the more familiar Sechinger became, until the moment the vetch flower appeared, he completely couldn't hold back, "He learned my vetch flower planting method in the ditch and said it was his own!"

Vetch flower is a unique crop in the mountains. It was originally a weed, but it was later artificially cultivated.

Because arable land in the mountains is precious, continuous planting is very likely to cause famine. In addition to grabbing water and bird droppings, it is necessary to ensure that fertility is not lost as much as possible.

After hundreds of years of development and experimentation, the mountain people finally discovered and cultivated a green manure that could ensure that the land's fertility was not lost—vetch flower.

Sechinger has always been proud of this secret, but he never thought that Enrico would learn the real skills so vividly and sell them to the royal family.

"Is this your planting method? He said it was his exclusive secret..."

"Exclusive my ass, can he be an agricultural director? Then I can also be an agricultural director!"

"Um, Lord Enrico said that it looks simple but it is difficult to do. There are many steps and details. Except for him, no one can handle it at present," Myra rubbed the gorgeous sword around his waist somewhat awkwardly.

"Is he in Sour Gourd Town?"

"He should be there today. He was originally ordered to come with me to receive you, but he said he had a headache so he didn't come." Halfway through speaking, Myra suddenly realized.

"Let's go quickly, to Sour Gourd Town!"

After traveling for more than two weeks, Sechinger and his party finally arrived in Sour Gourd Town on December 5th.