Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest-Chapter 291 - 27: Soldiers! Must Have a Sense of Honor!

Roman paid special attention to dietary hygiene, urging his residents to drink plenty of hot water.

No matter what, regardless of age or gender.

Drink more hot water!

The grand kitchen model could greatly save fuel, making boiling water very convenient, as there were always pots and stoves dedicated to boiling water with an unlimited supply—many laborers liked to fetch water in wooden barrels from the grand kitchen after finishing work and store it at home for future use.

But this situation was an exception.

Because in the Middle Ages, ordinary people couldn’t afford to drink boiled water.

Among the basic necessities of firewood, rice, oil, and salt, firewood came first.

Most of the lower classes were not so much living as surviving, and fuel was also one of the burdens on the shoulders of the peasants.

Not to mention firewood, even wheat straw was considered wealth.

Wheat straw was not for burning, but rather for stuffing into sacks or woven into mats to lay on beds as bedding.

So Roman chose the grand kitchen model to save on fuel and time.

Therefore, the mortality rate from illness in Origin City was extremely low.

Drinking hot water really worked!

Only, it couldn’t prevent all diseases.

Great pandemics followed great disasters.

Environmental pollution, virus proliferation, mosquito transmission.

Flood relief workers who had been soaked in water for a long time saw their immunity decline and got infected with various bacteria.

There were just too many pathways for disease transmission.

When Roman finished flood relief, he hadn’t even had a chance to catch his breath before he discovered that contagious diseases were spreading among the flood relief troops.

Fever, diarrhea, purpura, malaria... these diseases could easily claim a person’s life.

Roman was very distressed.

He could only isolate them to prevent further spread of the diseases.

Dragging his exhausted body, he rushed back to Origin City, opened the storage warehouse, and moved out thousands of pounds of garlic.

Garlic, along with onions and ginger, was a main seasoning ingredient in Origin City.

After all, in an era without chili peppers and where spices were precious, the few seasonings that Roman was able to grow were limited to these.

This batch of garlic was harvested in May and June, yielding only three hundred pounds per acre, but Roman had planted four hundred acres. For such vegetables that could serve as seasonings, naturally, the more, the better. So there were plenty stored in the warehouse, more than enough to make allicin.

He urgently manufactured a few copper distillers.

Eventually, he distributed the distilled allicin for oral use. It had mild side effects but was effective against various bacterial diseases.

In the current era, it could be called a miracle drug.

It was purely because Roman hadn’t thought of producing allicin in the past.

Planting more fields was better than any miracle drug.

Roman witnessed those suffering from fever and diarrhea gradually recover and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He taught the hospital staff the distillation process. Allicin couldn’t be stored for long, but it could be prepared daily and incorporated into the healthcare system. If the livestock at the breeding farms contracted infectious diseases, allicin could be used to enhance their resistance.

He had last recruited five hundred Angel Envoys, among whom there were nuns and priests who had converted.

These were the people he could rely on.

Especially the nuns, who already possessed fundamental medical knowledge and various life skills. Roman was confident that spreading this knowledge was the right thing to do.

Now, over a thousand people at the flood relief camp had been infected with contagious diseases.

People were bound to die, and allicin was not a panacea.

But as long as it could lower the mortality rate, an acceptable rate within one percent was good enough.

After all was done, Roman felt physically and mentally drained, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Now that the situation was under control, he delegated the subsequent minutiae to others, returned to Origin Manor, and, attended by a maid, took a hot bath. After returning to his room, he fell straight to sleep. He vaguely felt someone adjusting his position and covering his abdomen with a blanket, which made him sleep even more comfortably. He had no desire to wake up at this point; even if someone were to stab him a few times, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

...

Roman woke up famished.

It was noon; he must have slept from the afternoon of the previous day until now.

Roman rose and moved to the great hall where he found the Conquest Knights and Witches all present.

"You’ve almost slept a whole day and night," Green said, "Since we’ve achieved such a great victory this time, don’t you think you should reward us generously?"

"Reward! Ask for whatever you want," Roman, seated at the head, grabbed a piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth.

"Really?"

"No."

What a joke, he couldn’t start that precedent; otherwise, the nature of it would change.

Roman thought for a moment, "I’ll give all of you a Medal of Honor in due time."

"I’ll hand them out personally," he emphasized.

Wasn’t a Medal of Honor more inspiring than any material rewards tinged with the odor of copper?

A soldier must have honor!

Not like Green, shamelessly pestering him for benefits.

"That’s it?" Green looked disdainful.

Weren’t all the medals given out personally by him?

Jet, Dick, and Aaron all watched Roman silently.

In their positions, they had to seek governance.

They needed to fight for benefits on behalf of their subordinates; after all, wasn’t each soldier marred with blisters and bloodstains, their skin chafed from crawling through mud?

"Fine," Roman rubbed his head, "I’ll add one more bar of soap to their monthly allowance."

The soldiers’ monthly soap ration was only two bars, so they had to use them sparingly. This increase was significant, raising it by half.

"Two bars!" Green bargained.

"That’s impossible... Sigh, this autumn, I’ll issue one more set of clothing to you all," Roman sighed.

Maintaining an army was like pouring money into a bottomless pit.

Especially a professional army, where everything from eating and drinking to sleeping and waking needed provision.

Five thousand sets of clothing, and the fabric had to be strong and of high quality.

A set of clothes provided to a soldier was equivalent to three sets for a civilian—farmers often worked in flood relief shirtless to avoid wear and tear, stripping down for every labor-intensive task.

But military clothing needed to be thicker and more durable.

It was a time of chaos; the prices for textile materials had tripled.

Throwing nearly a thousand Gold Coins into the water, it was still uncertain if the materials could be bought at all.

But since Roman made a promise, he had to find a way to keep it.

He had planted two hundred acres of cotton this year, accounting thirty pounds per acre as a win. Combined with the wool from the breeding farms, it shouldn’t be difficult.

After all, issuing the clothes once should be enough.

If he provided four bars of soap every month, it would mean continuous bleeding—once it became the norm, it would be impossible to cut back on benefits.

The soldiers were already earning wages, and it wasn’t a good thing to provide overly generous benefits.

At that moment, Jimmy arrived at the Manor and exclaimed with surprise upon seeing Roman, "Lord, you’re finally awake."

Roman tapped his head, "Right, Jimmy, is the task done?"

"Lord, according to your orders, I’ve issued an IOU to every person involved in the flood relief."

"That’s good," Roman nodded, "Now, based on the IOUs, give each person five bars of soap, say it’s my reward."

"Five bars?" exclaimed Jimmy in shock.

"Yes, just go and take them," Roman said generously.

On the first day, he mobilized seven thousand people, and even more on the second and third days, engaging a total of ten thousand people, plus five thousand soldiers; he could say he had maximized the mobilization power.

Because it wasn’t just men, Roman had also had the residents’ department select a large group of physically fit women to help carry soil and stones.

Now it was time to give back.