Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

But beyond preparing farming tools, Lieutenant Bard made no other moves.

He did not confiscate the estates' produce, nor did he order the displaced people to work the fields directly, and he wouldn't even meet with the visiting landowners.

As the planting window for winter crops shrank day by day, he still held his forces in check.

He was waiting, waiting for the outcome at Revodan.

Finally, after an agonizing wait, the first light of dawn broke over the horizon.

"Lieutenant Bard!" Anglu shouted as he ran into Bard's tent, "We won! A great victory!"

The young groom was so excited that he trembled, yet Bard's demeanor remained as calm as usual.

He took the letter, read it from beginning to end, and finally could not help but say "Good" three times in a row.

What Bard received was the first letter sent to him by Winters after he had met with Tang Juan.

More victory reports were still on their way.

"Anglu!" Bard bellowed.

"Yes!" The groom snapped to attention.

"Raise the army flag! Go to all the nearby villages and towns, and spread the news of this great victory for me!" Bard laughed loudly.

"Yes!" Anglu turned to leave.

"Come back!" Bard called the groom, "You can delegate the task of spreading the victory news to someone else. I have a more important task for you."

Anglu's smile faded, and he looked earnestly into Lieutenant Bard's eyes.

"You go to Blackwater Town." Bard narrowed his eyes, "Bring all the landowners here."

The camp of displaced people needed some cavalry for better management, so Winters assigned Anglu to Bard.

In Winters' view, the two had compatible temperaments. Having Anglu follow Bard, the young groom could learn a lot.

And indeed, Bard and Anglu shared many similarities, but Bard was more resilient, more mature, and more determined. The groom's awe of Lieutenant Bard had gradually turned to admiration, and Bard's position in his heart was now second only to Winters.

When Bard gave an order, Anglu had no trace of doubt.

The groom gave a firm salute and turned to leave the tent.

...

Anglu acted swiftly, and the landowners of Blackwater Town, whether willingly or not, were all brought to the camp of the displaced.

The landowners of Blackwater Town, who could be considered distinguished local families in this small place, waited in terror for the young lieutenant's judgment.

"Time is short! I don't intend to waste words with you." Bard cut to the chase, speaking briskly, "I have twenty thousand people; I can't support them all. So I need your land to grow food, and I can compensate you with some rent. When we eventually reclaim the wilderness, I'll return your land to you."

Even though they were mentally prepared, the landowners of Blackwater Town were still stunned by the bombshell.

"Sir, may I be so bold as to ask a question?" Richard, the largest landowner of Blackwater Town, began, mustering his courage.

"Speak."

Richard plucked up his courage, "It seems to me, sir, that you are about to turn all the displaced into farmers and tenants for you... or rather, for the new garrison here."

"That's right, just like that." Bard didn't bother to hide it, "The refugees must work for us for seven years to regain their freedom. In the future, we won't just hand out land to them; they must redeem it."

"Then why go through all this trouble, sir?" Richard, being a large landowner, proposed, "Why not let the refugees work as tenant farmers for us, and we will supply the provisions for the garrison, wouldn't that be better?"

Bard clapped his hands and laughed heartily, laughing so hard he doubled over, leaving the landowners puzzled.

After wiping away his tears, Bard's face suddenly turned stern, "You wish!"

The landowners in the tent trembled with his angry shout.

Bard made his stance crystal clear, "Having peasants continue to be tenant farmers for you, tying the labor to your estates, that's not going to leverage their full potential! They're going to be squeezed by someone no matter what, and I'd rather do the squeezing than let you fatten up at their expense."

Even the kind and generous Bard could be intimidating as he glared, making them quiver in their boots, "I'm not scared to tell you that we are at war with the New Reclamation Legion. We need food! We need troops! Without food and troops, we will be wiped out! We will be killed!"

"So, whoever doesn't supply us with food, whoever doesn't provide us with troops, is our mortal enemy!" Bard's gaze swept over everyone; the landowners lowered their heads, "This is a matter of life and death, and we will show no mercy! If you agree, we will give you some compensation. If you don't agree, I will see to the ruin of your homes and families!"

The landowners, who had been involuntarily swallowing their saliva just moments ago, now found their mouths dry and bitter.

Bard picked up a stack of land deeds, all archives from the Revodan garrison: "We are clear about how much land you have. Whether you have been secretly cultivating more land, you know that better than I do.

I don't even need to investigate your secret cultivations! Next year's property tax, multiplied by five! And if that seems too little, by ten! If you can't pay it, we'll confiscate your land and property!

Let me tell you, in the face of life and death, there is no good or evil, we have ways to deal with you. Right now, the fact that we are negotiating kindly is a show of our mercy.

Iron Peak County has sixteen towns, and I must get this done in Blackwater Town no matter what, or else wouldn't the other fifteen towns follow the example? You better think it through. If you agree, come and sign the contract. If you don't agree, go home and await your death!"

Richard spoke bitterly, "Sir, our family fortunes were accumulated over several generations. We worked hard, bought land, and managed our family businesses; is that also a crime?"

"Don't you understand?" Bard drew his sword and pointed it at Richard, asking, "This is about life and death. We are not out to kill you, but you're killing us! Letting labor continue to be tenant farmers for you? Who will provide us with troops? Who will supply us with grains? Without troops and grains, we will die. Aren't you the ones killing us?"

Richard stepped back repeatedly, shaking his head frantically.

"I'm telling you, I'm actually saving you," Bard drove his sword into the ground, gesturing fiercely toward the refugee camp outside, "There are more than twenty-thousand starving people out there, if we don't let them cultivate the land, the day they eat through their provisions, they will come and eat you! Don't you understand? Or are you pretending not to understand?"

Richard was left speechless by the question.

"And it's not like we're taking your land for nothing," Bard's tone became gentle and calm, "Once the wastelands are cultivated, we will return your land to you. That's why we need to draft a contract with you, to protect your private property. Moreover, isn't your land lying fallow now anyway? Even the best land, left uncultivated for two years, will become wasteland. We are here to help you take care of the land and even compensate you; where else could you find such a good deal?"

He became more and more affable, nothing like the impassioned man from before, "If we really wanted to rob you, would I have wasted my breath talking to you? Wiping out your entire family, the land without heirs would naturally revert to the garrison. Isn't that simpler?"

Richard, along with the other landowners, couldn't tell if the man before them was a devil or an angel.

"No need to say more," Richard said with difficulty, "The hilt of the knife is in your hands, you call the shots. I'll sign this contract, but I hope you won't forget your promise. When the time comes, you still have to return the land to us!"

"I know you don't trust me, so I've brought something." Bard took out a wooden box.

Upon opening the lid, it shone with the golden luster of the Saint Ados Emblem.

The landowners were startled—they recognized what it was.

"I swear in front of the relic of the true Saint Emblem," Bard placed his hand on the Saint Ados Emblem, "If I break this contract, may I be eternally damned in hell, may my soul be eternally burnt by the fires of Hell! Even the Lord's forgiveness could not save me!"

The oath was so severe, so ruthless, that probably not even the Pope himself could absolve it.

Richard, gritting his teeth, went to the table, and signed his name on the document, officially handing over his land.

With him leading the way, the other landowners also stepped forward to mark their signatures.

"Gentlemen, you will forever have my gratitude." Bard bowed deeply and, upon rising, asked casually, "Have you ever considered moving to Revodan?"