Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest-Chapter 261 - 30: Farming is Never Smooth Sailing

Lord Roman’s literacy campaign and private tutoring were in full swing.

The Church Court’s merchant ships had also arrived at Origin City.

A merchant ship could carry several tons to more than ten tons, all loaded with saltpetre and sulfur.

The Church Court didn’t understand Lord Roman’s requirements.

They couldn’t figure out why the River Valley King needed these materials.

Since they couldn’t understand, they simply gave up.

After all, saltpetre and sulfur were much cheaper than gemstones.

Divine Mysterious and the Narrow Sea were closely connected, with several volcanoes in the Narrow Sea that could produce a large amount of sulfur.

The Church Court controlled many resources on the land, including saltpetre.

Lord Roman was not afraid of others deciphering the technology of black gunpowder.

Firstly, for the time being, he planned to quietly develop for a few years, not engaging in wars—or rather, not engaging in large-scale wars, as fighting a total war now would indeed be overwhelming.

Therefore, in the current stage, black gunpowder was only used for production, not for military purposes, and it was impossible for it to be leaked.

Did they really think his War Fog was just for show?

Secondly, if he wasn’t developing faster than the others, he would just jump into the Sword Casting Furnace.

...

The batch of saltpetre and sulfur delivered by the Church Court totaled about twenty tons.

They couldn’t pay it all at once, so the Church Court planned to repay it over the course of a year.

One of the few advantages of this era was that those in higher positions indeed adhered to contracts and promises, demonstrating a simplicity in the common folk.

Lord Roman also placed a high emphasis on reputation and promises.

He was cruel to the nobles purely because he had never made any promises to them.

Once a promise was made, he had to follow through with it without negotiation.

There was an understanding and consensus on this.

This batch of saltpetre and sulfur was enough for the preliminary stages.

Lord Roman had a huge demand for black gunpowder.

First, he started with one or two tons.

Since he couldn’t produce so much for the time being, Lord Roman wasn’t in a rush and began to slowly refine the saltpetre and sulfur.

Having many people had its advantages, making everything convenient, as he didn’t need to pull people from various positions.

He took some time to visit the marshland and found that the laborers there were doing well.

The ponds were almost dug, and now they were digging water channels.

Food was the foundation of everything.

Lord Roman took this issue very seriously. Back in the days of manpower shortage, he wished he could have disbanded the army to work in agriculture.

Oxen and draft horses pulled heavy plows, plowing the mud fields.

It was necessary to plow once, to even out the soil structure, establishing a good foundation before planting rice.

During this period, crops like cotton, sugarcane, and sugar beets were also safely buried in the soil.

Lord Roman checked the condition of those crops, which had now sprouted and were growing well.

Especially the sugarcane, which was thriving.

The disadvantage of sugarcane was that it required deep, loose, fertile soil.

Even without considering the climate issue, the backward agricultural technology of the Black Iron Land couldn’t support the cultivation of sugarcane.

Even if it could be planted, it would be quite troublesome to care for.

However, the advantage of sugarcane was that its yield per acre was frighteningly high, producing three or four thousand pounds per acre was not a problem.

This was normal, as even grass could yield a thousand pounds per acre, as the water content naturally added weight.

Moreover, sugarcane could be boiled into sugar, and once planted on a large scale, it could continuously provide sugar.

According to an 8% sugar yield, one acre could produce about two hundred pounds of cane sugar.

Unlike maltose, cane sugar was a true strategic material.

Lord Roman was smoothly farming and developing here.

But as he had once said, farming was never smooth sailing.

...

At the end of spring,

when the flag of the Black Iron Throne reached this River Valley,

the entire Origin City was stirred.

Lord Roman had to greet the envoy personally.

"The envoy of the Black Iron King, esteemed Mr. Damian, I welcome your arrival to this place," Seth presided over the welcoming ceremony.

Damian was the Finance Minister of the Black Iron King, and his visit was to discuss taxation issues with the River Valley King.

Thus, he brought with him an entourage that was impressively large, numbering around a hundred people draped in gold and silver to display the king’s might.

The dark figures of the ten Royal Knights were particularly striking, hardly less imposing than the Judgement Knights.

"Lord Roman, you have inherited a vast and fertile land," he said.

Damian, about forty years old, was plump yet agile, dressed in silk garments, with each of his delicate fingers adorned with a ring made from a rare gemstone.

Roman did not like dealing with such people.

They were slick and slippery like eels, with a kind of greasiness that couldn’t be fooled.

Roman frowned lightly, gazing at the largest cat’s eye stone among Damian’s fingers.

The gem was bright green and translucent, with a fine luster, featuring a narrow beam of light that resembled the piercing spirit light of a cat’s eye.

It was said that if used properly, cat’s eye stones could peer into hearts and discern lies.

Damian, noticing Roman’s gaze, caressed the cat’s eye stone with his other hand and smiled, waiting for him to respond.

"It was given to me by Alster."

"The Grand Duke was assassinated by a hitman, and thus passed away. The Black Iron King was deeply saddened. Last year, he sent me to express condolences when Dragon Castle’s Riptide Knights gathered, yet I didn’t see your forces coming."

"When the time is right, I will go myself," Roman said lightly.

"I believe you can," Damian smiled, "after all, you are now a young monarch, and your future prospects are clear."

Roman observed him quietly, his expression neither arrogant nor triumphant.

Damian’s smile persisted, but surprise flickered in his brown eyes.

He spoke again, "His Majesty the King has sent me with his command to bestow upon you the title of heir to the First Generation Split Armor, ruler of the River Valley residents, Eternal King, Lord of the Conqueror Order, Guardian of the Seven Kingdoms Order, and the War Hand who balances terrains!"

He pronounced that long series of titles and honors, second only in length to the Black Iron Duke and Black Iron King himself.

"Lord of the Conqueror Order?" he sharply caught the essence.

"Yes, that’s you," the Finance Minister, Damian, smiled.

Roman’s frown deepened.

This title stemmed from the Conqueror Period,

a special rank conferred by the Conqueror himself.

Only three Black Iron Dukes, the great leaders of the lands, Royal Guardian Knights, Conquest Knights, and the Black Iron King himself had this honor.

All were high and powerful figures.

"What is the price?" asked Lord Roman.

"You need to dispatch troops to quash rebellions, fight pirates, Barbarians, Evil Demons, and foreign tribes—anything that threatens our safety," the Finance Minister stated nonchalantly.

The lordship was an honor,

with bearers upholding the duty to maintain the Conqueror Order.

"What if I don’t go?"

"That won’t do, my lord, it’s your duty. According to the regulations, you must at least deploy ten thousand conscript troops, two thousand riders, five hundred Conquest Knights, and fifty Square Flag Knights..." He gestured with a hand that smelled of rouge, wavering it before Roman’s face.

"Enough, Mr. Damian, it’s no use talking more; I do not have such manpower," Roman said idly, leaning his chin on his hand with crossed legs, his posture relaxed and elegant.

He looked at the smiling minister in front of him, wanting to punch him,

but rationality restrained such action.

This was a high-ranking officer of the Black Iron King, and any violent move would jeopardize future growth.

At least not now, he told himself.

"Then you will only have to pay the shield tax," Damian started calculating with his fingers,

He well knew Roman couldn’t muster such forces; the population of the River Valley was barely a few tens of thousands, and extracting ten thousand conscript troops might literally shock the crown off the Black Iron King’s head.

"If you plan to not deploy a single soldier, you’ll need to pay approximately five thousand Gold Coins in shield tax—that’s for this year. As you know, there’s fighting everywhere, next year you’ll need to pay the same amount or more."

"Additionally, my lord, inheriting this rich land, you must also pay His Majesty the King the right tax, investiture tax, trade tax, war tax, land tax, property tax, poll tax, illegal act tax...

"You must also give a portion of your war ransom won from your victories over Lord Gael and the Church Court to His Majesty the King, as far as I know, that’s not a small number...

"Oh, and you have to give me a sum separately, after all, I brought you the King’s good news. I won’t ask too much for the seal fee, just five hundred Gold Coins will suffice."