Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: The Exploited Land, Windheim (1)
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After finishing my information gathering at the tavern, I went to see the baron and told him I wanted to tour the countryside.
The baron was extremely displeased, but I said to him,
"I'll go to the countryside myself, take a look at the serfs' living conditions, and find out what they need."
Upon hearing that, the baron relented as if he had no choice.
And so, right now, Baldt and I are riding in a carriage, hurrying toward Windheim.
It's quite a distance from the castle—a two-day carriage ride—but I'm heading there with the expectation that I'll surely find a chance to prove my abilities.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The evening of the day after departing the castle, vast wheat fields began to appear in the distance, stretching out behind plains covered in short weeds.
It wasn't quite harvest season yet, so it wasn't the golden sea of wheat I'd seen in movies, but the sight of the unripe grains forming green waves was truly beautiful.
"How much farther to the village?"
"About thirty minutes, Young Master."
"Thirty minutes? It still seems pretty far, but it's all wheat fields from here."
"Well, to pay taxes to the knights who own this land and to His Excellency the Baron, plus secure food for their families, they have to cultivate an enormous amount of land."
I'd learned before that a single serf supporting a family of five or six had to farm four hectares a year—land roughly 200 meters by 200 meters.
That's equivalent to hundreds of 40-pyeong apartments' worth of soil, meaning they'd have to work right up to the brink of death just to cover it all.
"Serfs don't have it easy."
"And after paying taxes..."
Suddenly, Baldt trailed off and shouted.
"Look, Young Master. The serfs are plowing the fields."
Hearing that, I turned my head in the direction Baldt was pointing.
"Hup! Hup!! Get going, yeah, that's it!!"
As the farmer cracked the whip, the plow attached behind the horse began turning the soil in time with the horse's steps.
But the speed was far too slow, and the depth of the turned earth was too shallow.
Even a plow like that was better than nothing, but a plow needed to turn at least 30 centimeters deep.
Because most of the nutrients crops need to grow are stored in the top 30 centimeters of soil.
Feeling frustrated, I looked at Baldt and said,
"Baldt, isn't that plow defective? Even so, it's way too shallow..."
Baldt stared at me as if I were some strange person and replied,
"Uh, Young Master. Plows only turn the soil that deep by nature."
Separate from my aptitude as a ruler, if I ever end up governing this territory, I had to distribute plows that could turn at least 30 centimeters.
Because compared to that plow there that barely managed 15 centimeters, it would yield more than double the harvest.
And soon enough, the horse pulling the plow started breathing hard and stopped moving to catch its breath.
Curious why the horse had stopped, I observed closely and saw that the part bearing the plow's force was concentrated on the horse's neck rather than its chest.
With a structure like that, every time it pulled the plow, the pressure on its neck would mess up its breathing.
But that wasn't the only problem... I needed to get down from the carriage and take a closer look.
"Coachman, stop the carriage here for a moment. And Baldt, grab one coin pouch. I want to ask that man something."
The carriage soon halted, and I headed toward the man pulling the plow.
The moment the man saw me, he dropped the plow handles and prostrated himself flat on the ground.
"Greetings, noble one. What brings you to a village of lowly serfs like us?"
His words were polite enough, but his trembling voice made it clear he saw me as a burdensome and frightening figure.
To help the serf relax and converse smoothly, I took two coins from the coin pouch and placed them in his hand.
The serf's face brightened as he confirmed the coins.
"I just have some questions. Answer well, and I might give you more."
His expression lit up even more.
"Really?"
"I don't speak with a forked tongue."
At that, the serf waved his hands with a smile and said,
"Thank you! So, how can I help?"
"Good. I'm curious, so could you show me how you use the plow? I've got a few questions."
"Yes, yes!"
The serf dashed back to the horse harnessed to the plow and began cracking the whip.
About thirty seconds later, the horse moved, and the plow started turning the soil.
But the furrows were only about 10 to 15 centimeters deep, and even those were ridiculously narrow, like scratches from fingernails.
I also noticed the working horse's hooves were worn down like sandpaper.
It must have come from treading rough soil all day while pulling the plow.
If the hooves wore down like that, nerves inside could protrude.
Managing a horse that way could let soil bacteria into the hoof interior, causing tetanus.
After about ten minutes of plowing, the horse was exhausted and wouldn't budge no matter how much the farmer whipped it.
Normally, he'd let it rest after using it like this, but he was probably whipping it out of deference to me.
"Good work. I saw it well. You handle the horse nicely. Mind answering a few more questions?"
With that, I tossed two more coins to the serf.
He snatched them deftly and replied,
"Yes, Young Master. It's an honor that you think so highly of me, heh heh. Ask away."
"Hm, what do you think of that plow? I heard His Excellency the Baron provided it to the village for you serfs."
"Haha, it's great! Before, to plow this field, I'd bring over neighbor Hans or my son to hold and pull the plow, but even working all day, we couldn't finish half. Now I can do this much alone."
"Is that so? But aren't the furrows too shallow?"
The serf waved it off and said,
"This is way deeper than what we dug before. A few years ago, the wheat and barley would freeze if it got even a bit cold, but now the deeper furrows prevent that. It's all thanks to the lord."
He said that, but I caught a glimpse of dissatisfaction with the lord on his face too.
If he felt that way even though the baron wasn't collecting excess taxes and had provided tools...
As I'd heard at the inn, Bailiff Mars was probably embezzling the taxes.
Pretending not to notice that discontent, I said,
"Thanks for telling me. Here's a little something—three coins."
"You're really giving them?"
"Of course. Thanks to your honest answers, I learned what I wanted. This is just payment."
"Thank you!! Young Master!!"
He'd seemed so annoyed before I gave the money, but the instant I did, he turned into a respectful Young Master.
Guess people like money whether in Korea or this world.
And since he's so cooperative, a bit more cash should get me valuable stories while staying at his house.
"I'm on my way to Nant, but it's getting dark already... Mind if I stay the night at your place?"
The serf's face swelled with anticipation that hosting me overnight would earn him money.
"Young Master, it's terribly humble—will that be all right?"
"Better than sleeping outdoors. A roof and walls will keep out the wind and morning dew."
"Understood. I only married recently, so I've got some empty rooms... plenty of space. But for meal preparations..."
I handed the serf the entire coin pouch Baldt gave me.
"This enough? Looks like about twenty coins."
"May I count them?"
Counting money from a noble right in front of him was rude.
But since I was playing the wandering noble, I'd let it slide.
"Go ahead."
"One, two, three... twenty. We'll serve you as best we can in our humble home."
Hearing that, Baldt spoke to me in a shocked voice, almost accusatory.
"Wait, Young Master... You're not staying at the bailiff's house nearby but at a serf's? Nobles can't stay in a place like that!!"
"What does it matter with Baldt here? Before our family fell, you were the reversal hero who took down a mounted knight with a single sword in the tournament."
"..."
With that, I shut Baldt up, climbed back into the carriage, looked down at the serf, and said,
"Right, serf. What's your name?"
"Zachry, sir."
"Zachry, get on your horse and lead the way. We'll follow slowly."
"Understood."
And so, I headed to the home of the serf named Zachry.
On the way, Baldt angrily asked me,
"But seriously, why stay at a serf's house? Just act like a normal noble young master, stay at the bailiff's, get some booze and food—what's the harm?"
"Because I'm not here to play. And this area's Bailiff Mars is very likely embezzling taxes. To get vivid, firsthand info, this is necessary."
Baldt looked at me, sighed as if exasperated, and said,
"It's good you're so eager to work for the territory's people, but you're too eager."