Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest
Chapter 93 - 27: The Real Army

Chapter 93: Chapter 27: The Real Army

It’s monthly!

Not yearly!

And that’s just plain military pay.

Because the cost of Guards’ meals and clothes is also borne by Lord Roman!

Soldiers needn’t do any labor; they merely need to complete training daily and can then save their wages every month to take home!

Not like them, relying on free meals for sustenance every day.

Though the system of work meals ensured their basic living needs, their prolonged hard life had given them a strong sense of crisis.

Nowadays, everyone in Sige Town knows of Lord Roman’s kindness and generosity.

Such excellent treatment for the Guards was enough to make most people in Sige Town envious.

Now everyone began to grow restless.

These people weren’t all locals; Roman’s robust slaves bought were also here.

Although their lowly status as slaves was diluted by daily hard labor, their living conditions were the same as ordinary farmers.

But the stigma of slavery was no doubt etched on their bodies.

Since their master was recruiting Guards,

and they were also included in this scope,

all slaves instantly realized...

This was their best chance to turn their lives around!

Thus, their shouts were even fiercer than those of the local farmers!

"Master! Me! Me!"

"Choose me! Choose me!"

Seeing their emotions becoming more intense, Roman gently raised his right palm.

That palm seemed to hit a switch, instantly silencing everyone’s shouts.

Their eyes reddened, panting heavily, like angry bulls.

With just one word from the person on the high platform, they would scrape their sturdy hooves against the ground twice and then launch a desperate charge.

Many months ago, they all knew their Lord had gone hunting in the forest and encountered a wolf attack.

After this generous Lord returned, he distributed five silver coins, 40 pounds of meat, and nearly a hundred pounds of wheat to the family of every Guard who died in battle!

That price was enough to buy their lives!

Even those severely injured received generous compensation.

To die in battle for their Lord!

That was a consensus reached in everyone’s heart.

Under their fervent gaze, Roman calmly said, "I will only select those who obey commands best. Can you all obey my orders?"

"Yes!!"

Roman’s reply was as noisy as a tidal wave.

Roman raised his right arm, saying, "This is your right hand. When I say turn right, you will turn your body to the right, and then! Immediately! Stop! Any! Movement! Understood?"

He demonstrated the movement for them.

After hearing a clear response,

Roman nodded slightly.

The next second, Roman shouted, "All turn right!"

Everyone turned around.

And then they stopped moving.

Thus, five to six hundred youths were immediately eliminated—when facing him, those fools thought Roman’s right was also their right.

Dick, Jet, Green, Aaron, and many Guards immediately stepped forward to pick out those who had turned the wrong way.

Only about two hundred people remained standing in the arena.

Roman knew most of them had merely been lucky; understanding commands was somewhat difficult for them.

Theoretically, everyone here was qualified for the training, but this would only paralyze the construction work in Sige Town.

He continued to command them to turn left, keep turning left, then turn right.

In the beginning, each iteration eliminated a group of people, including those who were slow to react.

After several repetitions, only those who could distinguish between left and right remained—some even learned to do so in those few minutes.

Roman achieved the effect he wanted.

There were fifty to sixty people still standing in their original positions.

He nodded slightly at these individuals and said, "You qualify, we will recruit only this many for now."

Poor constitution could be compensated with diet and training.

Failing to understand commands, however, was incurable.

Roman knew that getting this bunch of fools to distinguish left from right in a short time was difficult.

But today’s exercise would undoubtedly leave a profound impression on them.

He would have Moor spread the word.

After some time, he would conduct another recruitment.

These fools would surely remember the difference between the left and right hands vigorously during this period!

When they confidently attended the next assessment, they would find that Roman had changed to a more complex test item.

Of course, there were plenty of opportunities, and this was just the initial recruitment. Because they couldn’t draw too many people, they used a step-by-step method.

Being able to distinguish left from right didn’t mean total qualification.

During the upcoming training, some would definitely be eliminated.

Although the guard’s treatment was good, it wasn’t meant for everyone.

Their sweat would be several times that of the workers.

Formation training, physical conditioning, and tactical squad training!

Roman decreed they must eat a pound of meat every day.

Eat it even if they couldn’t, eat it to death! If they couldn’t eat it, they could leave!

Who can be a soldier if they can’t even eat meat?

The mill provided unlimited bread and meat soup.

Their training environment was enclosed, with no worries about food or clothing. Their future equipment and weapons would be of the finest quality, requiring only rigorous training. No one could leave the sight of Instructor Jet.

They were different from any noble’s or the Church Court’s armies, being directly under Roman—a pure, professional army.

They received monthly military pay, optimal living conditions, and substantial compensation in case of death in battle.

All feudal traditions, all negative practices, must not taint them in the slightest.

All actions were to follow orders; all spoils were to be public property.

They could not plunder, commit rape, act cruelly, retreat, or kill recklessly...

They might not be the most ferocious or brave, but they were certainly the most obedient, civilized, and disciplined army.

Roman’s expectations for his army were exceedingly high.

And these expectations would be ingrained in every warrior’s marrow through daily training.

Those who couldn’t adapt, obey, or overcome their weaknesses would either purge all impurities in this great furnace or leave.

Roman would spend six months training this invincible professional army’s embryonic form, firmly laying the foundation for future wars.

Roman was also to provide them with ideological education.

He would tell them—

Who the enemy of the Lord was, who the friends of the Lord were.

Whom they had to kill, and why they had to kill them.

Whom they had to protect, and why they had to protect them.

Where they came from and where their destination was.

Roman knew well what the foundation of an unbreakable, invincible army was.

Only when a man knew what he was fighting for would the fire of faith kindle within.

Only then would the warrior become a true warrior, ready to unleash at least 150% of his battle power.