HTLCCBFT Chapter 4

Oliver’s plan was to hoe out a standard plot, so that the overseer could lead the serfs to follow suit.

The current division of cultivated land was truly chaotic: nothing like the modern practice of using fences or walls to clearly demarcate each household’s boundaries.

Even the free-ranging livestock could enter and exit the fields at will, chased away only by manual effort.

Of course, Oliver had no intention of taking on all the farming work himself.

Even though, with the game system he possessed, he might actually be able to cultivate the vast territory on his own… the idea of leaving the readily available labor force unused, forcing the lord to do everything personally, was something that loyal servants like Fosse would not tolerate.

Moreover, using a hoe did not increase the proficiency level of the “Farmer” job skill; it had to be the collection of finished products that counted.

With this in mind, Oliver swung the hoe leisurely.

The hoe produced by the game system had been reverted to it’s most basic level, but when he held it in his hand, he couldn’t feel the slightest bit of weight.

However, when this seemingly feather-light hoe struck the earth, which was hard due to lack of moisture, it penetrated as effortlessly as a sharp blade into tofu.

Huh.

Oliver blinked, easily pulled the hoe out and overturned a block of soil that looked as if it had been measured with the most standard ruler, its length and width appearing uniform.

He couldn’t help but stop and ponder.

He glanced at the hoe in his hand and then took a long look at the perfectly proportioned plot at his feet, so flawlessly arranged that even the most demanding obsessive-compulsive person could not find fault in.

And then, at the surrounding farmland, which was made to look even more unsightly and rough by contrast.

Oliver: “……”

Before his brain could react, he couldn’t help but swing the hoe a second time.

Though it was hard to explain, seeing the originally uneven, messy land become orderly under his hands, forming a stark contrast with the old terrain… it gave birth to an indescribable sense of magical accomplishment.

It was really addictive.

With the second strike, of course, came the third, the fourth, and countless more.

As if awakening some ancient impulse, Oliver’s hoeing speed gradually increased uncontrollably.

He had long forgotten his initial goal of “hoeing out just a small standard plot,” joyously advancing forward with clean, swift strokes.

Compared to the noble lord who had unwittingly become fully immersed in the joy of hoeing, the citizens of Laina City who witnessed all this fell into a strange silence.

What they were most used to seeing were fat-bellied, finely dressed lords entering the castle with a large entourage of trembling servants, showing disdain for the serfs groveling on the ground.

Even with their limited knowledge, they knew the words “lord” and “farm work” were not supposed to be associated together.

Especially not for such a lord with skin as pure as winter’s snow and a beautiful face more delicate than enchanting rose petals?

To anyone, this scene would seem incredibly discordant.

Especially since this lord of unimaginable nobility and beauty worked more efficiently than any of them: despite being too far to see the specifics of the cultivated land, the sight of the lord working so vigorously without a drop of sweat, and his unmatchable speed of progression…

Jonathan gradually woke from his previous entranced state, only to fall again into an unprecedented confusion.

He knew well, of course, that whether serfs or freemen, they were too lowly to even compare to the mud trodden by their lord.

But how is it that they, who have grown up scrounging the ground, dealing with crops in the plowed fields and heavy farm tools, can’t even hold a candle to the lord when it comes to doing their own jobs?

Jonathan was both terrified and ashamed at the thought.

Could it be that the lord personally taking to the fields today was to prove that Laina City no longer needed these worthless beings who couldn’t even farm?

“You despicable lazy things, what are you dawdling for?!”

Jonathan, lost in thought, was finally awakened by the angry shout of the supervisor, Joe: “Damn it, do you still dare to fantasize about letting the noble lord do everything for you and then having us deliver the food to your mouths? The merciful lord, to prevent you filthy bugs from starving, has even taken to the fields himself! Now it’s your turn to work!”

It was only then that the serfs, including Jonathan, snapped out of it.

Farm work was originally their duty, and even if their minds were still blank, their bodies had long formed an instinctual response.

Following the supervisor’s clear instruction to ‘go water’, Jonathan didn’t hesitate to be the first to grab a huge bucket and dash towards the river.

With him leading the way, the other serfs who were half a beat slower reacted before the arrival of supervisor Joe’s furious whipping and rushed out with their buckets as well.

“Sir Fosse,” Joe, who had just been ferocious towards the lazy serfs, instantly changed to a fawning face as he approached the unsmiling Fosse, the new steward of the estate, along with the other supervisors. “We’ve already driven those brazen lazy bastards off to water, and without resorting to the whip.”

Though he didn’t know why, this intimidating-looking steward Fosse had specifically emphasized ‘not to use whips’ when he coldly ordered them to make the serfs water the fields.

Otherwise, for them, whipping might take a bit of effort, but watching the lowly serfs twist in pain from numbness to extreme agony was also a small amusement.

“Hm.”

Fosse responded indifferently, his gaze never leaving the increasingly distant figure of his lord the duke, his hands unconsciously clenched tight, leaving deep marks in his palm.

Fosse, a former Knight Commander who had always had some reverence for God, though not religious, for the first time felt a strong resentment towards the so-called ‘God of Fortune’.

Even a god should not subject his most honored master to such hardship!

Oliver, only when the continuous “ding ding” warning sounds of his energy bar nearing depletion reached his ears, did he finally, reluctantly, stop his work.

It was probably the effect of the game system that inexplicably merged into this body along with his soul. He didn’t feel tired at all from the high-intensity labor — of course, on the condition that the last bit of energy didn’t drop to zero.

It stands to reason that the best way to restore energy is to consume food.

But when he thought of the chef’s terrible skills, he wasn’t in the least bit eager.

The air was filled with the unpleasant smell of green grass mixed with manure, just like the night before.

But when Oliver stood on a small hillock, looking back over the large tract of land he had tilled, like a king surveying his proud domain……

Oliver narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

Surrounded by fields of varying shades of color that appeared mottled and unsightly next to them, the plots he had dug by hand were incredibly uniform to a fault, maintaining a surprisingly consistent color.

Separated by higher and straighter ridges, the square plots of land seemed to have been measured with a standardized template, exquisitely neat.

Especially in contrast with the other plots, it could be considered a visually pleasing work of art.

Oliver stowed the hoe back into his game backpack and sat down on a large stone to admire his masterpiece, a sense of complete satisfaction welling up inside him.

—he changed his mind.

If the serfs couldn’t perfectly follow his standards, then he would rather take on the hardship and till the remaining land himself.

Just then, seeing the young master had stopped his farming activities from a distance, the steward Fosse, who had been tormented all morning, perked up.

No longer caring for the dignity he usually held in high regard, he directly shouldered the items he had prepared, and with three manservants in tow, he sped towards the angelic duke with a nimble posture amidst the dismayed gazes of the supervisors.

“Your Highness, may I ask if you are done?”

While respectfully asking, Fosse did not pause in his actions.

He systematically directed the servants to set up the parasol, patterned wooden table, and chairs, spread the finest velvet tablecloth, placed soft cushions on the seats, and one by one laid out the food from the basket.

In the blink of an eye, a spot for enjoying a perfect afternoon tea appeared amidst the field.

Oliver couldn’t help but laugh and be moved by the heartfelt gesture of the old steward, whose eyes were full of concern. He passed his tea cup over: “I am very pleased by your thoughtfulness. Since it’s like this, why not join me and share this moment?”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Fosse, unable to hide his proud and joyful smile, would of course not refuse such an honor.

But since they hadn’t brought an extra chair and he absolutely wouldn’t stand while drinking the lord’s tea, he was about to kneel on the freshly turned earth.

“I forgot,” Oliver stopped him promptly, looking around: “Wait a moment.”

He had noticed — in the fields that had been weeded and only roughly tilled in spring, there remained many rocks washed in by the rain.

He wasn’t strong enough to move the larger heavy stones directly, but he could use the pickaxe in the system tools to break them apart, then collect the weightless broken rocks into his system backpack, and eventually pile them on the nearby ridge.

It was better for Fosse to sit on these rocks for the time being rather than to kneel directly on the muddy ground.

Ignoring Fosse’s shocked refusal, Oliver decisively approached the closest large rock.

After he conjured a pickaxe out of thin air to the suppressed exclamations of the servants, he skillfully struck twice towards the rock in quick succession.

Under the miraculous pickaxe, the hard gray boulder cracked as easily as an egg.

However, in the next moment, the always composed and stern steward Fosse unprecedentedly let out a hoarse cry of alarm in front of everyone!

— Collapsing to the ground along with the scattering rocks was the unfortunate duke, who had completely forgotten his energy bar had hit the bottom.

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