"Crack—"
Old Laver's leather military boots crushed a clump of wet thistle grass, the purple corollas emitting a faint popping sound underfoot.
He removed his tricorn hat, sweat ford from the rising heat and humid air on his balding head, trickling down along his white-flecked temples into the collar of his linen shirt.
The May rains on the Shattered Stone Plain scattered over the yellow-brown pastures, where a slight misstep could land one in a puddle of mud.
Standing on the hillside, Old Laver could see black dots moving slowly within the waist-high golden grass.
Those were the Shepherds and their sheep, chewing the yellow-brown grass with expressionless faces.
Due to a recent shearing, most of the sheep were covered with only a short layer of wool, which, coupled with the relatively cool weather, was the most comfortable ti for them.
The Shattered Stone Plain was different from the Thousand River Valley, with a much cooler climate.
Except for winter, during the spring, sumr, and autumn, the temperature differences were just enough to put on or take off a Shepherd's vest.
The Kush people initially planned to migrate here to continue their herding life.
Unfortunately, the El Empire at that ti upheld the principle that since you, as foreigners, were adept at herding and horseback riding, you were not allowed to engage in these activities, leaving the Kush people in the Thousand River Valley.
On the other hand, the Norn people, who were adept at farming and forging, were driven by the El Empire to herd sheep in the Shattered Stone Plain.
A sticky, wet sound of footsteps ca from behind. Old Laver turned his head to see Algernon, the secretary dispatched by Captain Bether, walking slowly towards him.
This young man from a family of accountants in Hotam County had pale skin, as if he had never seen the sun, with ink stains on his cuffs.
He was poking a small booklet with an oiled paper cover with a quill pen, "Are you sure this is the place?"
Old Laver replied with certainty, "This is it."
"How can you be sure this is the place? Do you understand astrology?"
Old Laver watched the serious secretary, montarily at a loss for words.
Why does it matter if it's that village? Just bring back nine strong n to fill the conscription quota, isn't that enough?
Old Laver grabbed Kaler, who was passing by, "Look, this is the Knight's son, he understands astrology."
Algernon scrutinized the young man from head to toe, frowning, as he didn't seem like soone who understood astrology.
Before Algernon could question further, an agile elderly man leapt from among the shepherds.
This skinny old man scrambled up the rocky hillside in no ti, almost bending his waist to ninety degrees.
"What are you gentlen here for?" he asked, all the while his gaze sweeping over the dozen or so n with military knives at their waists and iron armor on their bodies.
To travel so far in armor, these soldiers were mostly of an extraordinary kind!
The old man's heart imdiately sank.
Old Laver stepped forward, "By the command of His Highness the Autocratic Duke Moliat, we are here to recruit nine laborers. How many able-bodied n are there in your village… be honest, don't make go down there and count myself."
The old man trembled all over, his face still bitter, "Eighteen, seven who can draw a bow, the rest are mostly of the age unable to carry a lamb."
"Oh, that's just right." Old Laver pointed with his military knife at the distant village, "Lead the way. What's your na?"
"No na, everyone calls Old Yang Head."
The group circled around the back of the hillside covered with wormwood, yet could see, three hundred paces away, a shepherd boy using a sling to herd the sheep, his coarse wool cloak billowing in the wind.
The shepherd's village was even more dilapidated than Old Laver had imagined.
The ramd earth walls were eroded by rainwater into deep grooves, a rusted bronze bell hung on a rotten wooden fra, barely audible.
Old Yang Head vigorously struck the bronze bell with a sheep bone, and soon the villagers gathered in the central drying yard.
"We are the forces of His Highness the Despot, here because of the Duke of Wing Nest's illegal seizure of the title. You are all subjects of the Duke of Wing Nest, you should fight for the true Duke of Wing Nest."
Algernon's passionate declaration did not sway this group of shepherds; they watched the soldiers before them either numbly or watchfully.
Old Laver approached Algernon's side, raising high the money bag in his hand, "One Dinar per day, three Dinars as a settling-in fee, paid imdiately."
Just as Old Laver finished speaking, a young man with a bow on his back turned up, spurning his screaming wife with a kick and stepping up to Old Laver.
Two Silver Coins fell into the mud-covered wife's hands, and one Silver Coin fell into Old Yang Head's hand.
The young man silently went up to the secretary, beginning to register his na.
After about three people, no one else ca forward voluntarily, forcing Old Yang Head to start calling out nas, each call resulting in a burst of tears.
"No, you can't do this, my husband went to repair the dam last year and hasn't returned, and now you want to take my child too!"
"Master, please have rcy."
"Don't run, you're not allowed to run, Master Knight is watching!"
His arms numb, Old Laver stuffed one ward Silver Coin after another into cold palms.
When he saw the mud-faced child clinging to his father's leg, his fingers trembled as he handed over the Silver Coin.
For so reason, the image of Little Laver suddenly flashed across his mind.
This world indeed wasn't as beautiful as Eden, but the Saint's Grandson wanted to create an Eden on earth, was it really possible?
The conscription lasted for over an hour until the nas on the register blood into ink blots in the humid air.
Old Laver turned around, looking back in the direction they ca from, catching sight of smoke signals rising by the Iron River.
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