Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest
Chapter 149 - 21: Hang Him (Extra for the Torch Alliance Leader)

Chapter 149: Chapter 21: Hang Him (Extra for the Torch Alliance Leader)

Roman led the convoy and arrived at Pudun Village at dusk.

Calling it a village was actually a misnomer; it was a cluster of small hamlets considered one entity by Roman since they all lay in close proximity.

They had passed through a stretch of land dyed red with blood.

Under the cover of night, these lands bore a deeper hue, with the thick scent of blood lingering in the air.

It was clear that a fierce skirmish had taken place here not long ago.

The battlefield had been cleared.

But some severed fingers and chunks of flesh weren’t worth picking up.

A frightened scream escaped from a farmer who stepped on half a palm on the road, but it was quickly suppressed.

The numerous slaves were just too exhausted to incite any further commotion, wanting only to find a place to rest.

The farmers from Doug Village were the worst off; they had been on the road all day, subsisting on slices of bread to replenish their strength, and now they were both hungry and thirsty.

Roman had granted them only ten minutes for a break to relieve themselves; the rest of the time was spent on the move without a moment’s pause.

Not to mention the physically weaker farmers, even the soldiers and auxiliary troops were struggling to endure.

Finally, they had reached a place to rest.

Pudun Village.

Roman met up with Aaron and Green.

They had clashed with the local militia here earlier this afternoon.

Before he had arrived, Roman had already learned the outcome through his scouts.

In this battle, there were 18 soldiers killed and 29 injured—by the logic of war, an injury didn’t count unless it impacted fighting capability; even a severed finger wasn’t considered an injury—being injured meant almost complete loss of combat ability.

The losses were substantial.

Roman knew the details; such casualties were unavoidable.

It was a small-scale operation, but the engagement was wide-ranging.

In the era of cold weapons, swords were blind in close combat; being able to kill several times one’s enemies was a sign of elite forces.

The victory was also significant.

They killed 46 enemies, heavily wounded 63, and captured 178, including Baron Crow, while the rest of the militia had fled.

While the two armies faced off, Green led fifty soldiers to cut off Baron Crow’s escape route, and, working with Aaron, they killed his horse.

A knight without his horse was no better than heavy infantry, and the two quickly brought the conflict to an end.

"Where is that baron now?"

Green said, "He’s been tied up. I didn’t know how to deal with him; do you want to see him?"

According to custom, Roman could have exchanged those nobles for ransom.

Roman shook his head, "No, hang him! Let him accompany my fallen soldiers in burial!"

Such severe casualties were entirely due to Baron Crow’s promise of "five copper coins for every enemy killed," otherwise, the fighting wouldn’t have been so brutal.

He was a talent.

In just half a day, he had assembled a conscript army of hundreds.

He promised a hefty sum to spur the conscripted soldiers’ courage in battle, driving them to a frenzy.

In this age, his tactics could certainly be considered above average.

He deserved to die!

Green nodded and turned to make the arrangements.

...

Roman had also been on the road for a whole day, and although he hadn’t done anything physically demanding, he too was feeling fatigued.

He rallied his spirits, settling the slaves and instructing the auxiliaries to slaughter the livestock of Pudun Village, starting the cooking to distribute meat and broth to everyone.

Once finished with the arrangements, Roman went straight to the room where the wounded soldiers were.

Seeing Lord arrive at the infirmary, all the heavily injured soldiers struggled to stand and salute.

"You all may remain lying down."

Roman checked on each wounded soldier, carefully examining the dressing on their wounds.

Over the winter, he had leveled up his "Medicine" Skill to Level 2.

But he hadn’t received much feedback, merely gaining a clearer understanding of human anatomy and pathology, along with some basic medical knowledge.

He ordered someone to bring a wooden box over, lifted the lid, and inside was a thin layer of crushed green stone powder.

"I’m going to redress your wounds, try to bear with it."

There weren’t many seriously injured soldiers, but attending to each one was still troublesome.

Some had their eyes gouged out, others had their necks hacked with an axe, the wounds mangled and starkly gruesome.

Roman patiently tended to their injuries, unwrapping the blood-soaked linen, sprinkling a small amount of green stone powder finely onto the wounds, and then re-wrapping them with fresh gauze.

The injured soldiers watched Roman’s actions, somewhat perplexed, not knowing what the green stone powder was, but their admiration and faith in their Lord ran deep in their bones, and no one voiced any objections.

Now it was a young soldier’s turn.

His right hand had been chopped off, the wrist and palm gone, leaving a bare stump.

The soldier with the severed hand wept bitterly, "Lord, I can’t wield a weapon anymore..."

Roman’s voice held a certain magnetism, and he gently said, "It’s alright if you can’t. I will always take care of you. Your wounds are also your honor. If anyone dares belittle you for them, I will not let it slide!"

"But I... still want to fight for you..."

Roman was taken aback, then gently embraced him, whispering, "There will be a way in the future, I will find a way for you."

In this fantastical and mysterious world, means to regenerate lost limbs were extremely rare but not nonexistent; even prosthetics could suffice.

He would never fail the warriors who had given their lives for him, even in death he would ensure they rested in peace.

"Are you married?" Roman asked.

The soldier shook his head.

Then Roman learned that he was only 18 years old, originally a slave, who had later become a soldier through recruitment and selection.

"When we get back, I’ll arrange a marriage for you, and after you have a wife and children, if you still have this will to fight, then come find me," Roman said, gently patting his back.

After taking care of all the wounded soldiers,

it was deep into the night.

Campfires blazed throughout the village, providing light.

Roman called over Green and asked him, "Is the list of the fallen ready?"

"It’s ready."

"When we get back, conduct an investigation. If a fallen soldier has no surviving heirs, find a relative to adopt a child for them; if they were loners, find an orphaned child to inherit their name so that those children can mourn at their graves each year."

Green was taken aback, but the task wasn’t difficult.

The registry was well-organized, making the process convenient, and Sige Town was not short of orphans.

Roman and Green talked as they walked, passing by a dwelling from which moans of pain and sorrowful cries emanated.

"Who’s in the house?" Roman asked.

Green replied, "Those are the crippled Conscripted Soldiers."

Their losses were significant, but the enemy’s had been heavy too, nearly fifty men, whom he and Aaron had brought here.

After all, having just been stationed there, busy with various tasks, they hadn’t had time to deal with these men.

"Go take a look at their condition. Give a quick end to those who can’t survive. Leave the ones who can live without care. Take with you those who can be healed."

Roman passed the small wooden box to Green, some green stone powder still remaining inside.

The latter instantly understood what Roman intended and his expression showed some reluctance.

"This is Peacock Stone ground to powder. We don’t even have enough for our own people, let alone for tomorrow. There’s definitely another battle ahead, which will result in even more wounded," Green reminded him.

He may come off as carefree on normal days, but at that moment his demeanor was serious.

During this time, another piece of Peacock Stone had been found in the iron mine, exactly like the previous one, and Roman had ground it into powder.

Peacock Stone warded off evil and had the power to disinfect, regenerate, strengthen healing, and boost immunity.

For the sick and seriously injured, it was an indispensable treasure.

Typically, such resources were reserved exclusively for the Conquest Knights; even those on the brink of death could cling to life, rather than being distributed among common soldiers.