I Am Not The Duke's Evil Son
Chapter 69: The Life of a Villager

Chapter 69: The Life of a Villager

As the third spring month arrived, the atmosphere in the barony began to change. The lives of the villagers and farmers grew more active as they became busy preparing and getting ready for the harvest season, which was only a few days away. However, despite all of that, everyone’s morale was very low, as they knew that this year’s yield would be much less compared to the previous year.

In one of the small villages far from the main town, all the residents gathered in front of the village chief’s house and discussed what they would do. Their worried and exhausted faces were evidence of how bad the situation was.

The village chief, an old man with a healthy face and clear eyes unlike theirs, spoke with obvious concern, "Everyone, the situation is worse than we expected. All the eastern lands have been damaged by harmful pests, and it seems we will only be able to save very little. As for the southern crops, they didn’t grow very well, and most of the grains are small and thin."

Everyone shook their heads and sighed. After a short moment of silence, one of them sighed, "What are we going to do? At this rate, we won’t have anything to eat by next summer."

Another added sorrowfully, "The land becomes less fertile with each passing year, and I’m sure next year’s harvest will be even worse."

"It’s useless. I think I’ll leave. This place is hopeless."

The chief listened to their complaints silently. After a brief moment, he raised his hands and reassured them, "Don’t be afraid, and don’t despair. We will find a solution to this problem. Leaving isn’t a solution, unfortunately; most likely, no one would accept you."

His response calmed the villagers a little, and they began to think carefully. However, his words displeased a certain person—a young man in his early twenties, with a rough face and tanned skin. His eyes were green and his gaze extremely sharp, making him seem angry all the time. But this time, he was truly angry.

He took a step forward and stood at the front of the small crowd, then spoke in a very rough voice, "Enough with your nonsense. You just don’t want us to leave so you can keep your position. And besides, what can we even do?"

His harsh way of speaking displeased those present, but they couldn’t contradict his opinion.

The village chief worked under the Baronet’s command and received a certain percentage from the taxes he handed over to the landowner. Remembering this, they stared at him sternly and waited for his answer.

Because of that, the village chief felt extremely annoyed. He shot a hateful glance at the young man before replying, "Watch your tongue, Willard, and show some respect. I am only thinking of your well-being."

"Hmph," Willard snorted and mocked, "Just say what you have to say, and stop with the hollow excuses."

The village chief grew more annoyed, but he did not react poorly. He was simply afraid of Willard, who was known for his strength and unpredictable temper.

Therefore, he tried to calm the situation, "Friends, this year was very harsh, but that doesn’t mean next year will be the same. We only need to survive until the next harvest season; then things will get better.

All we need to do is reduce our consumption. We can live on just two meals a day, and if necessary, we can eat our livestock.

Don’t forget that there are other places where we can get food, like the Thorn River located in the other part of the barony, or the forest."

His answer was satisfactory and calmed many of the villagers’ worries.

But Willard was not convinced. "What nonsense are you spouting? Don’t you know that we’re all already living on only two meals a day, barely satisfying our hunger? We can’t economize any more than this.

As for the river, it’s too far, and it’s not practical to go there daily. The forest is also very dangerous, and we’re just farmers without any strength or experience in hunting. And most importantly, our livestock are very few, and from them, we get some milk, butter, and eggs. If we eat them, what will we have left?"

Every word he spoke rang like thunder in the villagers’ ears, awakening them from their delusions. When they thought about it, they realized that what the village chief was saying was nonsense. This made them feel angry and resentful.

"Yes, he’s right. We can’t do that."

"And also, you don’t realize the extent of our problem because you have a large stock of grain."

"Yes, give us some of it if you really want to help us."

Everyone began protesting loudly, which made the village chief clench his fists in anger. Internally, he cursed, ’This bastard keeps bothering me. I must get rid of him somehow.’

He quickly calmed himself and raised his hands to signal for them to quiet down, but they didn’t stop, forcing him to shout, "Enough! Enough with this pointless argument!"

Then he turned to Willard and said, "You’ve kept criticizing my solutions all along. That means you must have a better idea. Share it with us. Or do you only want to spread discord among us?"

"Hmph," Willard snorted and said, "Just spare me your heated words. The solution is simple and doesn’t require all this thinking. We should request that the Baronet exempt us from taxes this year, or at least reduce them to ten percent "

"Hah!" The murmurs of everyone fell silent, leaving only shocked gasps. Their eyes widened, and they looked at Willard strangely as if looking at a madman.

One of the villagers raised his finger and pointed at him with a trembling body, "Have you lost your mind? Do you want to get us killed? Don’t you realize how terrible that man named Arvan is? Haven’t you heard? He made all the town’s residents work for him for free."

"Yes, and he even issued a law preventing people from defecating, forcing them to use a wooden box."

"He’s just a debauchee. He enslaved all the young men in the town."

Willard shook his head in disappointment, "The news you have is very outdated. First, he did pay the workers in the end. Second, he didn’t enslave the youth; he made them his soldiers and treats them well. Lastly, the law he enacted is very logical. You people defecate everywhere. Don’t you realize how disgusting that is? He’s not as bad as you say. He hasn’t wronged anyone unjustly."

The village chief laughed loudly, making Willard frown, "Did I say something funny?"

"Yes, how foolish you are. But I won’t blame you; you’re ignorant and don’t know how nobles run their lands. But I won’t stop you. Do as you wish. Go to Baron Arvan and propose to him what you just told us."

All the villagers were shocked upon hearing the village chief’s response and quickly rebuked him, "What are you saying? Are you really going to let him do that?"

"Just calm down. Let him do as he pleases. In the end, he will bear the consequences of his actions. Isn’t that right?" The village chief stared at him with a strange look.

Willard immediately understood what was being plotted against him. "Yes, I will take responsibility for what I do. As for you, you senile old man, there’s a reckoning between us that must be settled." Without any hesitation, he turned and headed toward his house, saying on his way, "I will go prepare myself. I have a long journey to the lord’s castle."

Everyone stared at his back, astonished by what he said, "He’s really going to do it? Doesn’t he fear for his life?"

’What a fool. He went off like that so simply. Didn’t he realize I was sending him to his death?’ The village chief mocked him internally, then quickly shouted at the villagers to get their attention, "Enough. Let him do what he wants. He has no family to worry about like we do," he said the last part loudly so Willard would hear it.

Though angry, Willard did not react.

The village chief laughed, satisfied with what was happening, then quickly regained his sternness and said, "Don’t concern yourselves with what Willard said. I advise you to prepare the taxes so we don’t incur the lord’s wrath. Don’t worry; everything will be fine."

What happened made the villagers feel worried, but the village chief’s words calmed them. Naturally, they regained their trust in him and forgot what Willard had said.

This wasn’t the only village that experienced such an atmosphere. All the villages and farmers in the barony gathered to think of solutions for their upcoming crisis. Their decisions were very diverse: some decided to hand over their taxes to avoid any trouble, some thought of faking the amount of their yield to offer less taxes, and some completely gave up and decided to leave after the harvest season.

...

As for Willard, he believed in his opinion. He was not a genius nor strong, but he listened to reason and logic, which made him realize that their lord Arvan was not that bad.

Although most of the villagers didn’t like him and found it difficult to deal with him, he took it upon himself to help them. In the end, the village was his home and the place where he was born.

Carrying his hope, infiltrated by many doubts, he took some money, provisions for two days, and set off toward the town, about thirteen miles away.

As he walked along the road full of damaged crops, he carefully thought about what he would say. ’I hope the lord is truly kind, or I’ll just be a fool walking toward my death. After all, he hasn’t done anything bad. From what I heard, the Baronet was a bad person who tried to kill him, and even the people he imprisoned, he pardoned many of them. He treats his followers well and pays them generously. So why do people insist that he’s bad?’

He analyzed the matter for a while, which increased his conviction. But suddenly he doubted, "Maybe he really is bad and very temperamental. What if he dislikes my suggestion? Or what if I can’t even meet him? I’m not sure if his followers are kind; maybe they’ll imprison me and prevent me from seeing him."

He paused for a moment and wondered, "Should I go back? Maybe that bastard of a village chief wasn’t entirely wrong?"

While lost in thought, he heard the sound of horse hooves coming from nearby. He quickly raised his head and looked at the road ahead, where he saw a large number of knights approaching him.

He felt a bit worried and stepped aside, but the knights slowed down and stopped beside him. With a tense body, he looked at their leader, Chadwick, and said politely, "Sir Knight, how may I help you?"

Calmly, Chadwick asked, "Do you live in the village at the end of this road?"

His body trembled slightly, and he felt some fear, thinking, ’What do they want from us?’ and answered as calmly as he could, "Yes, sir."

Chadwick smiled faintly and said, "Good. Follow me. You and all the young men in your village have been conscripted."

Willard was stunned, "Conscripted! What is this?"