Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest Chapter 385: 16: Since We Are Here, We Have to Plant Somethi

Chapter 385: Chapter 16: Since We Are Here, We Have to Plant Sothing_2

The Princess said, “This is not suffering. The journey of marching and fighting is more arduous.”

Shasta did not deny this. The White Steel Princess was an outlier; the bloodline of the forr king granted her a resilient mind.

The night deepened. Outside, the cold wind howled, with the faintest of whimpers interspersed within it.

The two tents were very close; Roman and Margaret were in one, and Iota Hina and Shasta were in the other.

Shasta felt sowhat awkward, imagining the intense struggle under the cloak and blankets in the neighboring tent. Young people were full of energy, especially after indulging in such pleasures… She intended to find another place to stay, but was pulled here by the White Steel Princess, who surely heard it too.

The Princess said again, “Why don’t you go?”

The Witch whispered, “One is enough for the bed.”

The White Steel Princess listened carefully for a mont, and the sound like weeping in the wind beca more and more ethereal.

She said, “One might not be enough.”

Shasta thought to herself, actually, it is enough. It’s not like anyone will die.

She blushed slightly, her delicate face turning a bit red, and she pursed her lips, trying to maintain a cool deanor.

Tashina could tell at a glance that she was a conservative witch. Even if she wasn’t, it didn’t matter. If you disregard the identity of being a witch, they were rely two camp followers, who even together wouldn’t be a threat to her.

But if you consider the identity of being a witch…

“Witch, would you like to help with sothing?”

Shasta recalled hearing similar words years ago; Roman and Tashina were very alike. She sighed lightly, “Your Highness, if you had said that to five years ago… no, four years ago, I would have agreed.”

The Princess said again, “I was not yet in power back then.” She pointed out, “Do you hold a grudge against the Black Iron Royal Family for not helping the Witch Forest?”

“No…” Shasta was silent for a mont before whispering, “The situation was as it was, and Black Iron Majesty also had difficulties, it’s not to bla on anyone.”

Tashina, seeing her insincere words, said, “There’s still a chance to redeem everything. I’ll reappoint you as court witches, whether as Prophet or Seat Witch. I can accept your allegiance and swear not to betray you. I will let you live in the sunlight like a hundred years ago, and together we’ll forge a new future. How does that sound?”

At this mont, she exuded a powerful charm and influence, lowering herself to share a bed with the witch, convinced the latter would be won over.

But Shasta said, “Your Majesty, we have been nurtured over generations, and the forr court witches taught us that only witches who grow up in the court possess honor and nobility, while we are rely a group of lowly, dishonorable outcasts…”

“I will grant you honor!” Tashina declared.

“Alas, it’s too late, Your Highness.” Shasta felt a bit of bitterness in her heart.

The Black Iron Royal Family and the court witches, a complex relationship, in the past, they all longed for this promise, but now she said, “I already have soone I pledge my life loyalty to.”

There was no going back.

Shasta rembered the day she accidentally intruded, the suffocating sensation like a bone caught in her throat.

Living under soone else’s roof was difficult.

She actually wanted to resist.

But thinking of her sisters, she was forced to sacrifice herself, posed in various defenseless positions, V M V!

Alas, it’s truly lantable; life is beyond one’s control.

Tashina saw that Shasta’s words seed troubled, but her heart was not, becoming inwardly annoyed at these witches’ weak will, not keeping promises.

She was currently in dire need of combat strength. The Witch Forest, the skinny cal larger than the horse, would be of great help to her, but soone else got there first… My damned father! Tashina cursed inwardly,

Although she and Iolion were in the sa camp, their political philosophies were vastly different.

She hoped to ally with the Witch Forest to launch a blitzkrieg on Divine Mysterious, dragging the entire land into the hell of warfare, reshuffling all forces, and reestablishing the Conqueror’s authority.

But Iolion was all appeasent, believing the Black Iron Royal Family should not disrupt the order first.

He is the King, she is the Princess; no matter how strong, the arm cannot twist the thigh.

Now it’s fine, all the cards have been lost, next there’s nothing left to lose, only to destroy before rebuilding.

The White Steel Princess lay flat on the bed, next to Shasta, eyes full of fighting spirit!

…

The next day.

Roman ca out of the residence, refreshed.

Breakfast was pea savory porridge, wheat bread, and leftover brown rice from last night stir-fried with diced at.

After breakfast, all the laborers rubbed their hands, exhaled white mist, picked up cross pickaxes, axes, and other tools, and continued yesterday’s work—cutting trees and digging foundations.

The land on this side of Fertile City was not like Origin City, winter land as hard as ice, soil compact beyond reason.

But there was no choice. Lord Roman set a deadline, and they had to complete it within the limit.

They couldn’t not do it just because it was difficult.

The laborers gradually ward up as they moved, starting an enthusiastic transformation of this barren land, the heat surging in their veins could lt the earth… was impossible.

Winter’s harsh climate made starting work yield half the result with twice the effort; this was an iron fact not changed by enthusiasm.

Roman turned a blind eye to this.

Joking, letting so much workforce idle, should they all go ho to sleep?

Who could sleep at such a ti?!

Developnt ant racing against ti, without hustling, where would efficiency co from.

He began manning the station himself since yesterday, and the laborers’ efficiency had risen by more than a tenth imdiately.

Roman began surveying this land in detail.

“What are you doing?” Tashina inquired.

This Princess would sotis ask him questions.

Roman answered, “Looking for plantable land.”

Tashina’s beautiful face was full of puzzlent, “This place is too barren.”

She didn’t understand farming, but the facts were evident.

The terrain was poor, with large slope fluctuations, prolonged erosion, shallow red soil with strong acidity, almost void of fertility, partially exposed rock layers, and severe stone desertification, an agricultural hell.

This resulted from years accumulating.

Roman stated, “There can even be wild grass growing on desolate land.”

Tashina was correct; this land was indeed a barren spot.

But… being here, one must sow sothing.

Roman thought hard for a mont, squatted, lifted a block of hard soil with a cross pickaxe, crumbled it with his fingers, letting the red dust drift through his fingers.

His brows relaxed slightly, “Let’s plant pasture for the first year.”

Red clover, black oats, and tall fescue were the most suitable; alfalfa could also be planted, but soil improvent would be challenging, requiring li to reduce acidity, then adding organic fertilizers—peat and manure would do, organic matter could buffer acidity and provide abundant nutrients to the soil.

At least three to five years would turn this barren land into arable land, and even then, its cultivation potential would not compare to real fertile fields.

A mu of land needed two thousand catties of li, peat, and manure together; then, natural rain, plowed three to five tis with a heavy plow, deep ploughing, and loosening could effectively improve the soil, at least allowing the growth of pasture.

But the problem was, the pass just started construction, bringing peat here still required a detour.

Relying on oxen, horses, and human labor as livestock, dragging carts carrying thousands of catties from dozens of kiloters away to this land, just this scale of carts required at least thousands of such carts.

Farming was hard, primarily due to fertility.

Not to ntion barren, even fertile lands required each mu to have a thousand or two thousand catties of fertilizer with each sowing.

Otherwise, once the soil’s fertility was exhausted, the next season’s crops would struggle to yield high.

Yet Fertile City lacked fertilizer resources.

Though resident manure in Fertile City could fill so gaps when fernted with leaves, sawdust, and wheat stalks, it only reached just over 30,000 tons.

Nowhere near enough!

Thus, this year’s peat transported from the Origin Basin amounted to hundreds of thousands of tons to barely assure the planting task.

And these hundreds of thousands of tons of peat necessitated thousands of trackers and tens of thousands of human livestock acting as transport force, taking more than two months to finish.

Even Fertile City, nearest to Origin City, was like this; transporting peat to farther Apple Town, Cold Wind Town, Lester Baron Castle and such locations was even harder.

Roman at present did not have such capability.

Even if he conquered those fiefs this year, at most he could spread manure and change farming techniques… one could say the combined farming potential of Fertile City and the other five territories was far less fortunate than Origin City.

Moreover, the shadow of war lood indefinably.

Farming would be even harder.