flstandardbreds Chapter 495: Ordinary Missionary
Chapter 495: Ordinary Missionary
On the plains of Brun Province, the sun was high in the sky, scorching the earth mercilessly.
A large number of prisoners of war from the Yoda Empire were working hard to cultivate this land under the scorching sun.
It is summer, and according to local farming arrangements, this is a good time to grow barley and oats.
Barley is mainly used for making wine. The plump grains will go through a series of processes such as fermentation and eventually become fragrant wine.
Except for a small portion of oats that is cooked into porridge for human consumption, most of the rest is used to feed livestock.
“Ding ding ding! Clean up, it’s time for dinner!”
A series of crisp knocking sounds echoed throughout the work site.
When all the prisoners who were working hard heard the sound, they immediately put down the farm tools they were using, and then without any hesitation, under the stern gaze of the guards, they quickly ran towards the place where the rice was served.
These guards, holding weapons and with serious expressions, stood around the venue. They stood tall and their eyes were fixed on the prisoners' every move. Any behavior of cutting in line or causing trouble would not escape their eyes.
The place for serving rice was set up in an open space. Dozens of guards came to the space carrying wooden barrels and spoons. They skillfully opened the barrels and put the food inside into large bowls.
After the prisoners of war arrived at the open field, they consciously lined up in a long queue. Although the queue was a bit crowded, it was orderly.
This is a habit developed after a long period of corporal punishment. Cutting in line or causing trouble is strictly prohibited and once discovered, it will be severely punished.
"Line up. Each person can take two loaves of bread and one bowl of oatmeal porridge. Today, the centurion has been made a baron by the King, so each person can take one sausage."
The guard who was serving the rice stood on a high place and shouted in a booming voice.
The sound echoed in the empty field and reached the ears of every prisoner. When they heard that there was meat, the prisoners' originally numb or tired eyes instantly flashed with light. Their eyes revealed anticipation and excitement, and many people even cheered excitedly.
Then, they calmed down at the guards' calls, lined up again, and waited to receive their food.
These prisoners were all Yoda soldiers who invaded John's territory and low-ranking officers below the rank of centurion.
They invaded John's territory purely on Ludwig's orders.
Thinking that it would be a loss to release them and a pity to kill them, John sentenced them to prison terms ranging from one to three years and required them to perform labor service in the newly occupied provinces to make up for the mistakes they had made.
After receiving their meals, the prisoners sat on long benches and began to enjoy their hard-earned meals.
"Hey, the last time we had extra food was at some founding ceremony."
After a prisoner of war carefully tasted a bite of sausage, he couldn't help but sigh. He chewed the sausage carefully, as if the meat was hard-earned.
"Yes, and this sausage tastes better than the one we make over there. I really hope that His Majesty the King will hold more celebrations so that we can have more meals."
Another prisoner of war took over the conversation with an expectant look on his face. He also hoped to be able to have more meals on such occasions to improve his life.
"Add a few more meals. Our service will end in half a year, and by then we will have all returned to our families."
A young prisoner of war said this, his tone revealing a hint of relief, as if he was full of expectations for the future.
"Go home? I guess the person in power there now is the son of the noble master above me. When a serf touched his carriage, the young master ordered his men to chop off the serf's ten fingers. Besides, my family members have already starved to death due to plague and famine. It's better for me to stay here."
An old soldier said with despair on his face that he couldn't help feeling sad when he recalled the miserable conditions in his hometown. In his opinion, it would be better to stay here and continue serving his sentence than to return to that place full of suffering and oppression.
"How can we keep them? The patrol team and the army have no eyes, right?"
Another prisoner questioned.
"Sure. I heard outside that our area hasn't completed the population census yet. After the sentence is over, we can sneak back from the border and hide in a random forest. After a few days, we can just come out and say we are refugees. My home is right next to us, and our accents are the same, so they won't be able to tell..."
"Hey, why doesn't His Majesty the King send troops to occupy my land? It's only a few miles away."
"Your idea is great. Send us to the border and we can run away together. At worst, we can go to the mountains and become savages."
The prisoner in front responded that he thought the idea was feasible.
The prisoner asked a man who was chewing bread next to him:
"What about you? With one more person, there will be more strength, and the chances of running away will be greater."
"I want to go back to my hometown. Ludwig is dead. Without tyranny, people's lives should be better."
The man put down the bread and swallowed the food in his mouth before answering, with a hint of hope in his tone.
"What a bullshit! Before Ludwig, we paid less in taxes, including tithes, head taxes, and shield taxes paid by nobles. We still barely had enough to eat and wear."
An old soldier said with disdain that he had experienced the cruelty of war and the oppression of taxation and had a deep understanding of the current situation in his hometown.
"I still want to return to my hometown. I hope I can make it a better place through my own efforts."
The man said firmly.
Looking at the young face, the prisoner asked:
"Are you from the city?"
"No, I am from the countryside, then I went to a church school in the city, and then I became a military priest."
At this moment, someone suddenly shouted:
"Which one is Min Caier? The centurion is looking for you."
The young man immediately put down the bread, trotted to the outside of the crowd, and then he saw the centurion in armor.
"Congratulations on becoming a noble."
Minzer said, his tone full of sincere congratulations.
"Well, no nobility or not, I don't have any fiefdom, it's just a recognition of my contribution to the country."
Although the centurion acted as if he didn't care, there was a hint of pride in his tone. He was proud that his contribution was recognized.
The reason why the two of them, a prisoner of war and an officer, could chat together was because during the previous battle, the centurion was unfortunately wounded by the enemy. If it were not for Min Ze'er, a prisoner of war, who helped suture the wound and apply ointment, he might have died directly from the wound infection.
"By the way, are you really not going to join the Helderan nationality? I can help you apply. Except for the Central Bank Province, other provinces are short of people now."
The centurion suddenly asked. He felt that Minzer was a good talent. There was a shortage of doctors everywhere now. If he could join the Holy Kingdom of Helderland, perhaps he would be able to better utilize his talents.
"The God of Light taught us to help each other, but now the people in my hometown are still living in great hardship. I hope to do my best to help them."
Min Zeer shook his head.
After hearing what Minzer said, the centurion respected him very much: "With people like you around, I think there is still a chance for the common people to live a good life."
The centurion said that he was also born a serf and had experienced the hardships that Minzer described, so he was also touched by Minzer's kindness and determination.
"Oh, right."
The centurion suddenly thought of something and handed him a book:
"This is the book you requested about the theology of the Kingdom of Helderland. It was written by Archbishop Pros and was recently printed."
Min Caier took the book and saw the words written on the cover:
The Faith of the People