"Nora is responsible for grazing, while Brendan is in charge of livestock patrols and transporting some feed..."
Lynn nodded slightly, "Very good work."
"Many Coatsworth Sheep on my ranch are pregnant, and it happens that we need more ranch workers with breeding experience."
"Are you willing to work on the ranch?"
Listening to Lynnâs inquiry, Betina raised her slender eyebrows.
The three of them had already learned from other townsmen that there was a large ranch on this land.
They were thinking about how to meet the Lord and convince him to let them work on the ranch and make their contributions.
They didnât expect the Lord would accurately and promptly find them first.
Betina glanced at Brendan and Nora on either side, and said happily, "Lord, we are very willing!"
Lynnâs words were calm, "What I need to tell you is that starting next year, there may be more poultry or livestock entering the ranch."
"During this time, you need to teach those ranch workers who arenât very skilled in breeding the techniques."
"Outside of feeding livestock and poultry, this is your most important task."
Betina didnât hesitate, "Yes, Lord!"
Lynn responded, "Go report to Guy. Heâs the foreman of the ranch and he will help you get familiar with the environment."
Under the guardâs guidance, Betina and the others left.
Afterwards.
Another few groups of townsmen with various Level 3 Skills were assigned to different suitable positions.
Level 3 [Forging] went to Ehreloâs Blacksmith Workshop, Level 3 [Medicine] went to Old Johnâs hospital, and so on.
All the townsmen with Level 3 skills were assigned appropriately, and the sky outside the castle gradually darkened.
Dozens of maidens in the castle began their daily tasks â illuminating the entire castle.
The gas with a strange odor slowly spread within the castle.
Lynn stepped to a nearly five-meter-high glazed window.
Through the pale blue glass glaze, his gaze looked towards the far outside.
Teams of townsmen were walking back along the lime road towards the townâs defensive line.
Lynnâs gaze looked farther away; there lay the direction of the city walls.
...
Among cultivated fields where winter barley had been planted.
Figures riding horses walked along the gravel paths of the farmland.
Behind dozens of horses was a somber metallic sound.
Swish, swish, swish~
The orderly sound of footsteps accompanied the clinking of armor, echoing under the increasingly darkening night sky.
Soldiers were lined up in ranks of six, the rear almost extending beyond sight.
They wore metal helmets, clad in dark blue-green armor. A Greatsword with a hilt longer than the head was strapped on their back.
The left arm wore a black elliptical long shield, sharp at the bottom.
If met with a cavalry attack, they could immediately plant the long shield into the ground to form a defensive front.
On the Round Shield and their armor was a distinct emblem.
An emblem of crossed Greatsword and Shield.
This was the Ducas Clanâs family insignia used for nearly hundreds of years!
Among them, soldiers held flagpoles five or six meters tall, with blood-red flags embroidered with black Greatswords and Shields.
As the cold wind blew, the flags flapped, making a rustling sound.
In the vanguard of the marching army.
A young man riding a strong warhorse turned to look at the rear.
The orderly marching army, adorned in armor, inspired fear. The young man smiled with satisfaction.
Beside him, a middle-aged man said with a smile, "Master, the Marquis Duca greatly values you."
"Otherwise, he wouldnât have dispatched so many soldiers to this frontier to eliminate bandits!"
Lawrence glanced at Godfrey with slight disdain, "Of course he values me; Iâm his half-brother."
"Before Mark inherited the title, I chose to pledge loyalty to him, never to betray!"
"The key point is that our father favored both him and me..."
"Which means, if I were to contend for the title, I would have a chance!"
Godfrey chose silence, not daring to discuss the internal matters of the Ducas Clan.
He knew exactly what to say and what not to say.
Otherwise.
Former Marquis Donovan wouldnât have entrusted his younger son to him for training and refinement.
Seeing Godfrey respond, Lawrence hummed softly and looked forward.
He continued, "How far are we from Morgan Town?"
Godfrey moved slightly, pulling out a map from his bosom. After a moment of examination, he explained, "Due to the cold weather, the march is slow. Itâll take at least four more days..."
Lawrence glanced at Godfrey impatiently.
"Itâs getting dark; find a place ahead to rest."
"If not for that damned Mark, I should be lying in the Wooden Brothel on Evelynâs bosom."
"Those bandits even more damned!"
"Donât they know this is the Ducas Clanâs territory? Dare to keep raiding villages and towns!"
"Also, the local vassals are damned!"
"Using Ducas Clanâs lands, enslaving so many peasants, yet unable to deal with a mere bandit group!"
Suddenly.
Lawrenceâs gaze shifted to Godfrey, questioning harshly, "Why are you not moving? Want to let me freeze to death here?"
Godfrey quickly responded, "Yes, master, Iâll arrange it right away."
Lawrence said nothing further.
Watching as Godfrey called a few soldiers to arrange to find a site ahead for the army to camp.
In just a few minutes.
Cavalry scouts returned, and Godfrey arranged for logistics soldiers to go ahead and start setting up camp.
Yet even so.
Lawrenceâs brow still slightly furrowed, as if carrying endless resentment.
Soldiers passing by dared not slack off, fearing to anger this Slaughterer!
While in the Bordeaux City Wooden Brothel, displeased by other customers interrupting his affair.
Lawrence butchered all eighty-one members of that customerâs family, with none spared!
Since then, Lawrence was known by a nicknameâSlaughterer!