Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest

79: Chapter 13: Kao 79: Chapter 13: Kao This barely counts as a good start.

Roman looked carefully at this Angel Envoy named Luca, feeling somewhat familiar.

He quickly realized Luca was part of the first batch of slaves brought over.

Now he was sleeping over by the livestock shed.

There are only two thousand people in Sige Town, and Roman has seen everyone’s appearance; he has a pretty good memory and vaguely remembers Luca as a highlander from the east.

It was just unfortunate that luck was not on his side, as Roman had not arranged a position for him among the ten slave Stewards.

Only now did he find out that Luca had Two-Star potential.

He would arrange for him to become the new Steward of the livestock shed later.

Roman thought to himself.

After Luke’s card dissipated.

The second card followed suit and showed up.

A One-Star Angel Envoy, nothing much to say about it.

The third, fourth, fifth cards…

All were One-Star Angel Envoys.

Roman frowned slightly.

But the first time he recruited seven times, there were also four One-Star Angel Envoys, with only Dota being valuable.

The sixth card floating above the card pool burst with rich purple light!

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

Thump!

Roman stood up suddenly!

This abnormal action immediately attracted the attention of Green and Aaron standing on both sides.

They were clad in silver-white armor, towering and conspicuous.

Considering the current atmosphere, the two didn’t ask Roman what was wrong like they usually did.

They could only do their duty and act as the facade, creating a sense of majesty for Roman.

…

Swipe!

The purple glow dispersed.

The card bore the image of a boy around fourteen or fifteen.

He was quite handsome, with somewhat dark skin, a tender yet determined face, brown hair, and light blue eyes as cold as a blade.

[Four-Star Kao (can be assigned an Angel Envoy code)

Attack: E+, Defense: E, Speed: E, Constitution: E, Energy: E

Talent: Sharpness—Increases attack power in normal state

First Skill: Abdominal Breathing—Enhances endurance and recovery when used

Second Skill: Blood Vengeance—Significantly increases attack power when enraged and during seeking]

…

He noticed that the Lord stood up and then sat back down.

As if the Lord was just uncomfortable sitting and changed his posture.

That chair made of bear skin looked of great quality.

He wondered what it would be like to sit on it.

But they could only stand.

He didn’t know what happened but knew that those Guards were watching them.

Slaves couldn’t look directly at the Lord, couldn’t even lift their heads.

If caught, it would be seen as an overstep, resulting in scolding or beating.

They could only hang their heads and hunch, waiting for the Lord’s orders.

Slaves should look like slaves!

He remembered the survival rules of this era, making himself more of a slave than a slave.

But he and the other slaves stood for dozens of minutes.

Most slaves’ legs began trembling; out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his sister was also struggling to stand.

And the Lord still hadn’t given any command.

They had eaten breakfast before coming.

Now, standing until now, the sun began to rise, and the sunlight grew stronger.

Ten more minutes passed.

Some slaves with weaker constitutions couldn’t persist, their legs giving out, collapsing to the ground.

The Guards said nothing, just dragged them out.

This seemed to trigger a chain reaction.

Most of the slaves began collapsing on the ground, unable to continue.

Idiots!

He cursed inwardly the same words as the Lord might in his heart.

He thought this was a trial, or perhaps some form of selection.

Just like a fishing net only catching big fish.

The valueless small fish escape through the net’s eyes.

If you don’t stand out, you’ll never earn attention.

So he endeavored to stand straight, striving to get caught and hauled ashore.

The Guards said few words, dragging people out one by one.

Moments later, only about thirty or forty slaves were scattered here.

His sister looked at him for help, her legs trembling, also wishing to withdraw from this harsh punishment.

But he didn’t agree, instead giving her a stern glance.

His sister felt somewhat aggrieved but continued to persist.

More than ten minutes passed.

All the standing slaves were persevering; he felt they all had the same realization.

This performance could very well determine their future status, dreaming a little, perhaps could even escape their slave status; even if not, they might get better treatment.

Meanwhile, those slaves who had recovered in the shade began to regret quitting early.

If they had persisted, maybe they could have earned the Lord’s special attention.

The sun rose high.

The sunlight was strong, and everyone was sweating.

Thud!

He suddenly saw his sister’s body collapse; she closed her eyes and fainted.

He was immensely anxious and instinctively wanted to check on her.

Reason restrained his actions.

He couldn’t move, feeling much torment, sweat from his forehead collecting into small rivers, flowing into his eyes, making them sting, and he could barely keep them open.

But he didn’t dare to reach a hand to wipe it.

A Guard came over, checked on his sister, and carried her to the Captain, as if saying something.

Shortly, a Maid from the manor brought over a bowl of water.

He gradually relaxed, without the burden of his sister, he focused entirely on maintaining his posture, keeping his head down, trying to stand as straight as those Guards.

As if competing, those still standing all stubbornly maintained this posture.

But even so, there were still people falling continuously.

This was a challenge concerning endurance and will.

And most people in this era hadn’t tempered an indomitable Spirit.

They lived, they were submissive.

They only chose the less bitter way of living among many bitter lives.

They farmed because, without farming, they’d starve.

They worked because, without work, they’d live miserably.

If life were worry-free, who wouldn’t want to wake up naturally?

If rest were possible, who would insist on resisting?

This is human nature, human weakness.

Those who can battle instinct, battle weakness, are always a minority.

He didn’t know how long had passed.

He couldn’t open his eyes; sweat flooded his face, making him feel suffocated, surrounded by intense heat, like drowning.

His sensing power of the outside diminished, mind filled with wild thoughts.

Perhaps the noble Lord had long left, why would he waste time with slaves.

He had heard the Wandong women who served food talk about it these days.

The Lord’s estate planted a large vegetable field.

The parsnip and cabbage they ate were dug from the manor, all planted by the Lord himself.

The meat pieces in the vegetable soup were acquired by the Lord leading people to hunt and purchase in bulk.

So the slaves benefited too.

Otherwise…

how could slaves in this era possibly eat meat?

They were filled with gratitude.

He was born by the sea, eating fish every day, knowing inland farmers rarely ate meat.

In fact, they ate fish because they couldn’t afford grain.

Grain and meat were equally precious.

The Lord also needed to plant vegetables, meaning the Lord was busy, perhaps he had long left, went to harvest vegetables, maybe he could relax…

His head felt hot, dazed, caught in a struggle, wanting to give up, yet his body remained still.

Cowardice won’t defeat me!

He thought fiercely to himself.

Until someone carried him out.

He finally took a breath, eyes somehow clenched shut.

He couldn’t open his eyelids, mind foggy.

Someone beside him offered him a bowl of water, he instinctively took it, trembling hands, water constantly dripped, splashing on his wrists and the ground, but he didn’t care, only gulped it down eagerly, moistening his chapped lips.

The instant the cold water flowed down his throat, his mind cleared up.

He opened his eyes, his vision also becoming clear.

He was shocked to find the young Lord before him, appearing not much older than him, yet noble and esteemed, exuding calm composure, sitting on that broad, bear-skin lined chair.

As that figure appeared in his sight, his breathing quickened, seemingly possessed with an unbelievably fatal allure that intoxicated and maddened him.

“What is your name?”

He heard the Lord ask him.

That Lord actually smiled at him, that voice indeed gentle, the gaze watching him equally tender.

He was supposed to be very calm!

Reason told him to stay calm!

But now couldn’t suppress his inner excitement and trembling!

He understood why the Slave Traders had to bow humbly before this young Lord!

Just because when this figure loomed in front, there was truly an irresistible charm and momentum, instantly shattering all his mental defenses and resistance!

Now, if this Lord commanded him to charge to certain death, he’d still willingly agree!

He stammered out, “Master, my name, my name is Kao…

Son of Fisherman…

Kao Fisher.”