In the palace, the flame curtain had long since dissipated, but the king still stood there quietly like a statue. "Ahem... The prince is still so young and vigorous," said an old man on the king's right. He was the Magician who had been supporting the flaming curtain earlier. In this kingdom, only someone of his status and stage could speak so casually beside the King.
"Sigh, I owe them." The king sighed. "Sorry to trouble you." He cupped his fists at the old man.
"It's no big deal. I'm old and can't go into battle. I'm happy to serve you, Your Majesty," said the old caster.
"Okay, send the master back to the tower," said the king to his attendants.
"Yes, Your Majesty." One of the attendants walked out and helped the old caster leave. In Faustian, every high-rank Lehrling would build a magic tower for them after serving the kingdom for a certain number of years. A magic tower was the lifelong dream of every low-rank Lehrling.
After the old magician left, the King was the only one left in the huge palace, aside from the King's attendants and maids. "Sophia, this is all I can do." The Faustian king was only forty years old. He was a wise king in his prime, but now he looked like an old man. He sighed with a haggard face. Sophia, the former queen, was the king's lifelong love and the mother of Angelina and Kenzir.
"The children have all grown up." The king recalled the scene when the prince was furious just now. A large group of soldiers surrounded the prince and pointed their swords at the general. He already knew that his eldest son had at least complete control of Lion.
Lion was Faustian's trump card. Controlling Lion was equivalent to controlling the Faustian army. All these years, that woman had been running around with the nobles and finance ministers in the capital. What was it for? Wasn't it for her own throne so that her son could inherit it?
What she didn't know was that after years of war, Faustian's economy had long been ruined. Apart from the few nobles with deep foundations, how many of them had the ability to help her son fight for the throne? Now, the most valuable thing in this country was the strong army at the front line. The army was currently Faustian's most precious and powerful force. Prince Kenzir was now one of the leaders of this force. How could his youngest son fight against his elder brother in the future?
Even if he had an uncle who was one of the suzerains of the Ligia Union, he had to remember that he was just one of them. After absorbing Shalor's territory, Faustian's national power had greatly increased. Not only that suzerain, but the entire Ligia Union had to bow down to Faustian!
The king believed in Kenzir's abilities, and believed that Kenzir would be able to govern the kingdom well. He would do his best to remove obstacles for Kenzir as long as he lived. Late at night, the king took his attendants to his study, where he worked tirelessly. He was a wise and diligent king. The rise of Faustian was not without reason.
It was late autumn again, and Quarryton welcomed the annual Oktoberfest. The Oktoberfest was a grand festival that originated from the Royal City and had a history of hundreds of years. The purpose was to celebrate this year's harvest and look forward to good luck in the coming year. Although it was not necessarily a good harvest every year, the festival had been passed down through the ages.
This year's Oktoberfest was the same as last year's. It was weak and lazy. Quarryton's mayor, Billy, was very confident in his management ability. He was already 40 years old. He had taken over his father's position as mayor at the age of 25, and it had been 15 years since then. The first half of his life had been as smooth as his father's, and he had weighed 200 kilograms. He was a real fat man, but in these few years when he was about to step down, it was as if the family's bad luck that had been accumulating for hundreds of years had been vented on him.
"War! War again! " Billy was now old and talkative. He was always complaining about this and that. Perhaps it was because he had to worry about everything in the past few years, and he did not have the calmness that an old man of his age should have. "Hagrid, ask your youngest son to go to the square to help!" Billy walked into the town and shouted at the shops that were half-closed. After a response, he walked to the next shop. "Britz, come out quickly. Is the beer ready?" It was a tavern that also served as accommodation, dining, and other functions. Of course, it was the only shop in town that had an entertainment function.
The tavern owner, Britz, had a dark red sideburns, black spots on his dimpled nose, and a big belly. It was hard to imagine how this guy could maintain such a physique when the price of food kept rising. Even he, the mayor, had lost a lot of weight over the years. He would be thankful if he could still weigh 150 kilograms. "Britz, are you done?" Billy shouted again in front of the shop with his cane when he saw that there was no movement in the tavern.
"Yes, yes!" Britz's deep voice finally came from the depths of the tavern. Slowly, a red-bearded man walked out with two barrels in his arms. He was fatter than Billy.
"Why are you so slow …" Billy muttered with dissatisfaction.
Britz scratched his head and said, "Hey, of course the beer tastes good first. I was watching from the cellar last night and fell asleep unknowingly."
"I think you couldn't help but drink a few mouthfuls and got drunk!" Billy scolded. "The ale this time should be enough for tonight's needs, right?"
"Yes, yes, definitely enough!" Britz quickly promised. "Two barrels!" He patted the two barrels of beer in his arms. The two barrels of beer were half the height of a person. Only someone of Britz's physique could carry them without panting.
Perhaps seeing that the mayor did not look too good, Britz hurriedly said goodbye and went to the town center with the barrels. Today's beer festival would be held at night, so he had to put the beer there to make preparations.
Britz left with the barrels, but Billy stayed where he was. If this wasn't the only tavern in town, I wouldn't have ordered beer from you! Billy grumbled in his heart. This was probably the most depressing few years of his life as the mayor. Now, all the young and strong men in the town had joined the army. Even since last year, the age of conscription for barons had been lowered from 14 to 13. As a result, only a few old men were left in the town to support the situation. The town's economy was so poor that they had to rely on the baron to import food. When would this end? Billy sighed.
Shaking his head, Billy went to the next tavern, the tailor's shop. What was the point of drinking beer in a beer festival? There had to be two performances. He had asked the old tailor, Mitt, to make the costumes last month, but he wasn't sure if it was ready yet.
In Maple Village, every family began to pack their things and do their chores early in the morning. Beer festival was just one of the many festivals in Faustian, but in Cardoj's territory, it was the biggest festival before the new year. It was said that the first baron was fond of drinking, so he vigorously developed the festival.
Lia got up early to help her mother feed the livestock and harvest the rice. These chickens were bought some time ago. Ever since he became a squad jarl last year, he sent more money home than before. After discussing it with Tia, Locke Senior bought a few chicks from the baron's caravan. Although they were just chicks, they were hens, so they spent a lot of money on them. Chickens also needed food, so the consumption of a few chicks wasn't much less than that of a child. Now that Maple Village had the ability to raise livestock, they were the only family that could do so apart from the chief's family. These chicks were the envy of many villagers.
Now that the chicks had grown up, except for one that died prematurely, the rest could contribute three to four eggs to their family every day. These hens were the family's treasures, so Lia spent half of her time taking care of them every day.
Locke Senior was still sleeping. Most of the farm work had been done by him for the past two years, and it was even more difficult to farm on dry land. His body had long been exhausted, so he hadn't woken up yet. He needed to rest.
Lia carefully tidied up the basket of eggs. The basket wasn't big, and there were only about twenty eggs in it. However, they had saved up for a week. Tia planned to sell the basket of eggs when she went to town at night. Her family usually didn't go to town, but today was Beer Festival, so the chief called for everyone in the village to go. Since they were going to go, they couldn't go empty-handed. The thrifty and smart Tia saved up for a week to bring them to town and sell them at a good price.
At ten in the morning, Locke Senior stretched and got out of bed. Lia and her mother were almost done with their preparations. He greeted them and went to the fields again. Although it was late autumn, there were still sweet potatoes planted in the fields. The baron's caravan had been selling this cold-resistant and drought-resistant crop to the farmers for the past two years. Although the sweet potatoes tasted bitter and were very small, it was already a great fortune to be able to grow food that could make a living in the fields nowadays. No one cared about it. Locke Senior had to go and take a look. It was almost winter, and the guinea pigs and other animals had begun to stock up on food like crazy. If no one looked after his field, his family's potatoes would probably be emptied out in less than two days.
Locke Senior waved a whip made of wooden vines as he walked on the dirt road. Although his field wasn't far from home, it was also close to a mountain stream. Along the way, leaves fell and some grey-haired guinea pigs scurried around in the dry grass. These guinea pigs used to look quite cute, but no one liked them now. Commoners, especially farmers, had an inexplicable sense of indignation towards robbers who robbed them of their food.
Locke Senior walked to his field. There were many mounds of soil in the two-acre field of rice and potatoes. The roots of the tubers could be clearly seen in the mounds, and there were faint bite marks on them. "Damn guinea pigs!" Locke Senior cursed. He walked to the mounds and squatted down to flatten them with his hands. The potatoes were very resilient. If they were covered with soil in time, they might still survive. After doing this, Locke Senior got up and whipped the ground. Guinea pigs were timid and would be scared away by the slightest movement. Locke Senior did this to drive away the guinea pigs that might still be in the field.
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