Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest
Chapter 108 - 12: Nillie

Chapter 108: Chapter 12: Nillie

Gwivelle was initially startled, her small face displaying panic, making her feel disoriented.

He noticed this and had no choice but to suppress his irritation, waving her over, and gently stroked her damp hair with his fingers.

Roman’s soft voice, with its peculiar magnetism, said, "Don’t be afraid, if there’s anything you’re unhappy with, tell me in time. You are my chamberlain, the person closest to me, and I don’t want you to carry those grievances in your heart."

He very much valued Gwivelle’s potential, speaking to her in tender and considerate tones, filled with concern and care.

The fear that had come out of nowhere quickly faded away for Gwivelle.

She shook her head gently, what grievances could she possibly have? Her status in the manor was so high, second only to Roman, and those of the same level as her took great care of her, so much so that at her young age, she was without any troubles.

If she had to say something... no, it was already very good.

"I’m satisfied just to see Lord Roman every day," she said softly, her voice as faint as a mosquito’s.

Upon hearing this, Roman began to smile.

Behind the pretentious smile, a tic-tac-toe pattern of anger appeared on his forehead.

So why don’t you just jump out of the pool!

Roman managed his expression well enough that Gwivelle did not notice.

Now everyone in Sige Town was busy as a dog, only Gwivelle was free and easy, at most attending Hans and Geman’s literacy classes every day.

Taking care of a little girl was no burden to him, but not everyone was qualified to be his chamberlain.

Roman held high hopes for Gwivelle, but it was frustrating that she hadn’t emerged yet.

He really wanted to see Gwivelle’s status panel.

He was quite rational, although utilitarian in heart, he didn’t blame Gwivelle for the issues and now suspected that the Recruitment Pool might have some kind of underlying fail-safe mechanism, holding back something big for him.

He had just drawn 30 times, and now he still had resources for 115 draws; he wondered if he could pull Gwivelle out with that...

Better not, drawing cards must not get to one’s head.

Otherwise, when Sige Town’s population continued to increase, he would run out of recruitment resources.

"Go and play," Roman said, maintaining a smiling expression.

He had many faces, and he was always amiable to his Angel Envoys and potential Angel Envoys, so he tried his best to maintain a spring-like demeanor.

But when it came to the ordinary citizens, he just didn’t have the patience.

Calling them fools eight times a day.

Gwivelle did not notice any change in Roman’s attitude and felt that Roman had become more endearing for no reason.

Young and having had a rough past, she was naive to the malice of human hearts. She didn’t understand why Roman would care for her so much, simply thinking that it was a chamberlain’s duty.

But in reality, she didn’t understand the responsibilities and duties of a chamberlain.

Gwivelle, like a cheerful bird, scrambled out of the manor hall, nearly bumping into Seth.

The Deacon was not harsh to Gwivelle.

In his view, Roman’s nurturing of a witch was his own personal interest, whether for business or pleasure—let it be for pleasure then.

He shouldn’t interfere in Roman’s personal life—he always had a sense of propriety about this point.

And Roman, watching Gwivelle’s retreating figure, couldn’t help but shake his head slightly.

He did not dwell on this matter. As long as there were no errors on the path, Roman could forgive all their various behaviors.

He was patient, he had time, and he could excuse and correct the envoys’ various naive thoughts.

Because he would always watch their growth, tolerate their ignorance, guide their progress, and make them grow from weakness to strength, from fragility to resilience. This was what he, as chosen by fate, was supposed to shoulder.

Imagine what could be more pleasing than nurturing someone into joy.

Roman said to Seth, "Call over that Nillie girl from the batch of slaves that came from Sea Castle."

"Yes." Seth turned and left before he had even steadied himself, placing the thick parchment on the table in front of Roman.

Roman picked up the stack of parchment and found it to be a ledger detailing the total cost of purchasing slaves for Sige Town, amounting to 332 Gold Coins. If Sige Town hadn’t seen good trade development these days, he wouldn’t have been able to produce that money without having to mortgage the Riptide Large Bow.

An average of one Gold Coin for two slaves—the price is sky-high.

But those special craftsmen accounted for the majority of the cost.

In fact, Morry sold this batch of slaves to Sige Town at cost price—charging at most for food. He did not make any profit, didn’t even include transportation and labor expenses, let alone taxes, otherwise, the price would have soared to at least 500 Gold Coins—and it’s another matter whether they could be sold or not.

Only Sige Town had such a large gap for slaves.

Not to mention others, Blacksmith Ruto alone was hard for Morry to find a suitable buyer for.

One reason is that the Noble’s stable territories under long-term rule don’t lack blacksmiths, as they have developed self-sufficiency, which is very fitting for the times.

Ruto’s presence would mean competing for business with local blacksmiths.

Only Nobles who had just been enfeoffed, with impoverished territories eager for development, would be potential buyers—like young Nobles in situations similar to Roman’s, lacking various resources, especially professionals.

Yet, this is the second reason.

Blacksmiths are too expensive.

At the start, Roman’s belongings amounted to a little over 20 Gold Coins—what wealth could afford a blacksmith slave?

If you could afford it, then why not directly trade with other Nobles from other territories, getting a non-slave blacksmith for a lower price?

Even if you were to get an apprentice, a few more years of forging would likely produce a qualified blacksmith, while a territory is built up over years.

The slave’s status becomes irrelevant, as they are highly skilled personnel, merely temporarily enslaved—are you really going to treat them like beasts of burden?

They would eventually be granted freedom.

That’s also the thought process of most Nobles, who all have connections and networks.

If there’s a labor shortage, they transfer labor from the domains of acquainted Nobles.

If there’s a shortage of various craftsmen, they recruit industry craftsmen from the cities, offering various incentives, tax exemptions, and physical subsidies to settle in the new territories.

Which normal Noble relies on purchasing slaves to develop their territory?

Slaves are naturally less Stable than freemen, and improving their treatment is an unprofitable deal.

...

Soon, Seth brought Nillie to Origin Manor.

Roman observed the girl before him.

She should be of age.

Long blue hair, azure eyes, thick and curly eyelashes, harmonious facial features, fair skin. A voluptuous figure with a waist as slender as a snake, dressed in simple and dirty clothes, yet unable to conceal her natural beauty—her skin was not rough but had a kind of delicacy to it.

Undoubtedly, she was a stunning young beauty, and her price was definitely not cheap.

Roman didn’t know whether to thank Morry for sending him a Three Stars Angel Envoy or to resent that if Nillie had not been an Angel Envoy, she would not compare to a dozen or twenty able-bodied laborers.

When Seth called her over, Nillie had been busy at the food camp.

Her outstanding appearance made her noticeable, but in Sige Town, where manpower was needed everywhere, even a Valkyrie from the legends of North Ice would have to carry bricks and build walls.

A Valkyrie would at least be worth ten strong men!

Nillie, clearly not a muscular Valkyrie, was spared from bricklifting and mudwork due to her exceptional looks but did not escape the misery of smoke and fire.

She was assigned to the large kitchen, preparing meals for everyone. When Seth called her over, Nillie was splitting wood and boiling pots under the sun, sweating profusely. Learning that Lord Roman was looking for her, she hastily wiped her face and rushed over—obviously not quite clean, as Roman noticed a grey streak on her left cheek, with the sweat making it even messier.