When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 645 - 606: Hunting Wolves and Wool

"Damn peasants, dare to hit my people?!"

With a slap on the wooden table, Henderson cursed with a fierce expression.

Henderson truly hadn't expected that just because of preparations to hunt wolves, he lost track, and within three weeks, over 20 households of villagers defected.

Just because someone helped you harvest two acres of land? Is this loyalty really so cheap?

Covering his chest, Henderson forcibly suppressed his anger.

He turned his head and saw the morning light shining on that idler's buttocks, a clear bluish-purple mark visible, even the outline of a footprint could be discerned.

"Head of Henderson Manor, this kick wasn't to my butt, it was clearly a kick to your face!" The idler lying on the bench cried out, seemingly pulling on his wound with too much movement, and he couldn't help but howl in pain again.

Three to five other idlers echoed, as if the kick landed on them.

Looking at the idlers' wretched cries and their patchy buttocks, he turned away in disgust, asking the villagers nearby, "Roughly how many households joined his little harvesting squad?"

Bowing his head, a middle-aged villager pressed his straw hat against his chest, "Including my family, there are over 20 households."

"What do they usually do?"

"Just helping each other harvest wheat. Unless you actively ask about long-term lease rights and the Hundred Households District, he won't bring it up." The villager hesitated for half a second, still gritting his teeth to continue, "They seem to be announcing something tonight at the village chapel, probably about the long-term lease rights."

After hearing the villager's account, Henderson furrowed his brow, leaning against the chair, considering his next actions while resting with closed eyes.

This Ansel really has some skills, quietly managing to win over more than 20 households.

These villagers are truly naive, aren't they afraid of being deceived by these two unknown origins?

But regardless of what he thought, no matter what he wanted to do, since he knew about it, there's no reason to let him succeed.

Henderson took two Dinars from the cupboard and handed them to the man, "For you. Go back now, don't let anyone find out."

"Hey hey, alrighty."

The villager naturally left the courtyard gate with many thanks, holding the Dinars.

Watching the informing villager leave the small courtyard, an idler suggested, "Why not have him write down the names of the participants?"

"With the new church backing, the Master Knight won't help, can't let them catch anything." Henderson picked up and tossed an eagle beak bean into his mouth, "Besides, does it need him to say?"

The manor is small enough that whoever's family is involved in that mutual help squad the neighbors already know, no need to ask this farmer.

"He wants to hold a prayer meeting tonight, right?" Flicking an eagle beak bean into his mouth, Henderson coldly laughed, "Tell those villagers, starting mid-September we'll hunt foxes and wolves, if anyone wants to join this year's wolf hunting team, come to my house tonight to discuss."

Henderson's eldest son answered and prepared to leave, but was grabbed by Henderson: "One more thing, deliver this letter to the head of Cosland Manor, deliver it personally, don't enter the manor, wait at the Hunter's Hut."

"Okay, father."

...

As someone hailing from Pingyuan County, Ansel always felt a sense of falling into a ravine when standing at the entrance of this manor village road.

The cold wood unique to Mountain County is renowned for its hardness, often used for crude furniture and shields.

They grow tall and large, with few branches, densely packed together.

Though there are steep slopes only two or three dozen meters on either side, the towering, stair-like deep black cold wood on the slopes compressing even the sky to a narrow path creates an inevitably tranquil valley feeling.

Bryson had long been familiar with this feeling, with an acorn wine pouch hanging from his neck, taking a sip now and then.

Lalor, supporting two wheelbarrows, sometimes craving would ask Bryson for a sip.

Occasionally, Bryson would offer the wine pouch to Ansel, "Have a sip, it has ginger juice in it, don't be fooled by the late August in the manor, but the forest is already October."

But Ansel always refused, as a follower of the Holy Path, although he didn't prohibit drinking, he didn't encourage it either.

From 8 in the morning to 10, as the sun nearly reached overhead, even Ansel grew impatient.

Fortunately, they didn't have to wait much longer, as the convoy finally arrived.

With the crisp sound of horse bells clanging, Ansel, who was initially huddled behind the wheelbarrow, perked up, quickly got up, and walked toward the direction of the bell sound.

Two large horse-drawn carriages were escorted by about twenty soldiers. As the wheels rolled over the stones on the ground, the whole carriage would jolt or bounce, and the wool loaded on the carriage would rise into the air.

The carriages slowly stopped at the village entrance, the mules snorted loudly, and the soldier driving leaped down.

He hammered his left chest with his right hand, then swung it parallel to the ground until it formed a right angle with his body. This was the military salute of the Salvation Army during the restoration of El, which was quite different from the Empire's customary hat-raising salute.

"You are just arriving now, can the later estates be transported completely?" Ansel did not make things difficult or question the leading soldier.

The soldier complained instead: "The dirt roads in this area are filled with either stones or potholes, and the bridges over the small creeks along the way are too fragile. We have forded several times. Next time, we must send a few more carriages to split up and go separately."

"It's hard work for you." Ansel turned out a ledger from the carriage, signed his name on it, and stamped it with his handprint, "Two bales of wool, two gallons of salt, and a bag of carpentry tools."

After the soldier confirmed, he instructed the laborers on the carriage to unload the two bales of wool, while Lalor and Bryson immediately pushed carts for loading and unloading.

Taking advantage of this gap, Ansel and the soldier proceeded to hand over reports and letters from the superior monastery, submitting this week's report with a signature, after which Ansel began reading the brief on the spot.

With great effort, Bryson lifted and tossed the four large bags of wool into a wheelbarrow, then leaned his head over: "Any news?"

"The progress in Kasha County is going smoothly, and it's estimated that reinforcements will soon be sent to help." Holding the wide sheet of paper with both sides filled, Ansel's eyes darted back and forth, "The Saint's Grandson extended our deadline to before the heavy snowfall closes the mountain passes and gave an important directive: the affairs in South Mangde County should rather pause than be in disarray."

At this point, Ansel's expression suddenly changed, even the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes squeezed out, and for the first time, he cursed aloud: "What is going on? How did the superior monastery allow this?"

"Huh?" Bryson quickly leaned over, only to see the brief stating, "... The permanent lease rights at Cosland Manor have already been successfully implemented; however, the Armed Farmers are maliciously resisting the reform, refusing to comply when investigated, and escaping into the mountains. All monks, please be cautious in the coming days."

"What's wrong with that?" Bryson's eyes even brightened, "Isn't it successfully implemented? Why don't we just call in the military?"

"It's not that simple." Ansel folded the brief and stuffed it into his pouch. Then, with all his strength, he struggled to push the wool-laden wheelbarrow towards the manor, "The Saint's Grandson warned us before we started; the military is the last resort and should be avoided if possible.

Chano Li tried to deploy troops to arrest and coerce evidence without any proof, and nothing happened just because we were lucky; any misstep could have blown up the whole of South Mangde County.

It's estimated that because of the rapid progress in Kasha County and our slow progress, the Priests-in-Charge are a bit anxious."

In fact, the problem Ansel faced was precisely what Herman raised in the Advisory Council before.

The right seat of the Advisory Council cannot represent all knights and nobles. Horn and Moliat drafted a law with just a verbal agreement, but it is not certain that the knights under this law will enforce it.

These laws are putting immense pressure on the knights, with reductions in taxes, agriculture, military, and all aspects of political power.

Moliat is very aware of the average acceptance limit of the nobles, so he is almost dancing on the knights' bottom line.

If it were in the Mangde Region or Hotam Region, it would be somewhat better, but it is different in the mountainous areas of South Mangde County.

The knights here have achieved merits and shed blood in the Thousand River Valley War, and their outstanding contributions cannot be ignored by Horn.

Not getting any rewards was one thing, but instead, they were expected to bleed and sacrifice.

While the Mountain Knights respect Moliat's prestige, in this age of hierarchies, prestige cannot be relied upon for control.

They accept the Hundred Households District reform, primarily because they can't beat Moliat or the Leia Kingdom.

In the eyes of the nobles who had to accept the Hundred Households District reform after achieving victory, Moliat was achieving multiple purposes with one stone.

He took his people to Pingyuan County, brought his companion Horn, and involved those unlucky knights.

Some extremist knights even shouted out the extreme statement "Moliat is just a dog of Horn," and in many mountainous areas, it's rumored that "the permanent lease rights and the Hundred Households District are just pretexts to abolish the status of knights."

If pressure explodes and the knights initiate a rebellion, although they cannot succeed, it will sabotage Horn's efforts.

If they start a commotion, the reform in the mountainous areas will be stalled for at least a year, as significant military resources would be needed to engage in guerrilla warfare with the locals deep in the mountains and forests.

The window of opportunity left for Horn is not long at all; let alone squandering a year, not even six months is feasible.

For the rebellious mountain folks, other mountain counties might still take a sympathetic attitude.

If we want to continue the Hundred Households District reform in other mountainous counties later, the resistance will multiply.

This is the optimistic scenario. If it escalates, it might be a few mountain counties rising in rebellion together, and that would indeed be a serious disaster.

Laboriously pushing the cart, Lalor couldn't care about Ansel and Bryson's conversation and didn't understand the twists and turns within. He was only gasping for breath as he asked, "Brother Ansel, what are you doing with so much wool?"

Ansel didn't directly answer his question. Instead, he took a piece of salt from the bottle and tossed it to Lalor: "I'm going to host a small group prayer session tonight. Spread the word; every family that comes will receive half a pound of wool for free."