With a few soldiers under his command, Byron's confidence is also a lot stronger, those robbers who are not bad intentions, they are far away from them, there are many robbers around Paravon, but no bandit army will risk attacking this team, the goods are too small, and the gains outweigh the losses.

Of course, if they knew the number of silver coins in Byron's pocket right now, it would have been a different story.

The five of them walked unhurriedly along the road, stopping occasionally to rest. There are always rudimentary huts near the roads in this area, which were originally the base of militia patrolling outside the city, but are now taken over by nearby villagers. Travelers can dine and rest, drink a little ale mixed with water, and the nearby hunters bring fresh game every day, and this temporary resting place actually feeds many people, and even robbers do not attack it until they are forced to do so.

This rest may seem superfluous, but it is necessary for Byron's group, who are marching heavily in gear. Because Byron demanded to arm himself at all times, and because of the lack of camel horses, these militiamen had to carry the weight of all their equipment and a small amount of provisions, and they would get tired over time.

These soldiers had only been in Byron's ranks for a short time, and in order to prevent unnecessary betrayal, Byron also increased the number of rests, and they were not in a hurry anyway.

Because the speed had slowed down, Byron and the others did not arrive at Vida when it was dark, so they found a small settlement that was not even a village, and spent a dozen copper plates for a night.

It was poor, with only a dozen villagers and their cattle and sheep thin, and the nearby farmland was not fertile, so Byron and the other soldiers slept together for the night. Of course, it is not comfortable at all, and there are always people who snore, but it is better to be safe.

No one knew if robbers would break into the house at night, let alone if the host would murder the dinar for the sake of the dinar.

Byron woke up early the next day because it was so loud that it was impossible to sleep.

The big John had already gotten up and watched through the window, and the militiamen were called out by Byron one after another.

"There was a cavalryman outside, and a few militiamen, and they quarreled with the people in the village."

The elder John gave Byron a rough idea of what was going on, and Byron himself looked out of the completely ventilated window.

A tall and strong war horse, although it is not wearing a chain robe, but it can be confirmed from its size and spirit that it is a good horse. Nearby, there were two pack horses carrying a number of parcels, one of which was holding a folded horse chain mail.

Two Swadiya militiamen guarded the horses with shields, especially the war horse, a good horse was worth more than five lives to the nobles.

On the other side, a man in a burqa chainmail much better than Byron's chain mail, with a sword pinned to his waist, yelled angrily at a group of elderly couples. Behind the cavalry, there were four militiamen with slightly different equipment, all with fierce expressions, and the one in the lead was holding a banner.

The old couple kept their heads down, but would interject from time to time. And the villagers in the nearby houses also carried hoes and pitchforks and other things, and looked at the soldiers in a circle cautiously.

"I swear, my lord, that we've really paid last year's taxes, and that's not a lot."

"Alright, don't swear, you ugly old woman. Lord Earl Greyward demands that all villages in his realm pay war taxes! One dinar per acre of land (one acre of land is slightly larger than one acre) of land! Twenty coppers each! ”

"But my lord, I've never heard of anything like this..."

"So now you know! In times of war, you have to be treated specially, either pay money or eat fists! ”

Under the intimidation of the cavalryman, the surrounding villagers frowned, and the hands holding the tools trembled. But they didn't have the courage to fight, not only because of the equipment that the opponent was completely ahead of, but also because of the flag, the flag with the pattern of war horses and antlers.

In the continent of Calradia, having a flag proves that he is a nobleman. Although that banner belonged only to a weak family with few rights, provoking the nobility represented a declaration of war with the entire aristocratic class, and they could not afford the consequences.

Byron thought about it again and again, but he called John and pushed the door open and walked out.

"Head, nobles are not easy to mess with, you don't want to get into trouble."

As he pushed the door open, John gave him a word of advice.

"Hey, who are you?!"

Byron strode forward, acting very confidently, and immediately attracted the attention of a militiaman on the opposite side.

The cavalryman, who seemed to be a nobleman, also frowned, turned his attention to Byron, and pressed his right hand on the sword at his waist.

"Mercenary von Byron, who are you when we spend the night here?"

Byron stopped near the old couple and confronted the cavalryman, revealing the mace hanging from his belt and the Germanic sword hanging from the other side to stabilize his balance.

The old couple's gaze turned to Byron, their eyes full of pleading for help.

However, hearing Byron's self-introduction, the other party's face showed a disdainful expression, and he waved his hand very casually.

"Byron? I haven't heard of it. I am the knight of Lord Earl Greyward - Merck Ness, the third son of the Baron Ness! "If you're interested, get out of the way, mercenary! I didn't have no spare money to hire you! ‘’

Hearing these words, Byron's heart instantly burned with anger. But he still tried his best to suppress the flames, this is not a game, every choice must be careful.

He squinted his eyes and saw that his three militiamen were poking their heads out of the doorway, cautious but not intending to rush out, Byron couldn't help but curse in his heart, "Coward!" ”。

But it can't be helped, it's not a game after all, it's not a few days since he recruited these soldiers under his command, their loyalty is still in doubt, and it's easy to understand that putting his own life first.

It's just that after watching too many loyal soldiers in novels and TV, Byron is inevitably a little unhappy in his heart. And John kept his head down, which was even more disappointing to Byron.

"I don't want to get myself in trouble, I just want to ask you what the tax is about."

Hearing Byron's words, the knight's expression improved slightly, but his tone was still full of impatience.

"An order from Lord Count Greyward, an additional tax was levied during the war between the kingdom and the Rododo. It's none of your business, mercenaries. ”

"I'm sorry, Your Excellency, but I just asked."

Byron took a step back and apologized very reluctantly.

He was very dissatisfied with this, and if his soldiers had the courage to stand beside him and face the cavalry and the banner behind him, he would still be able to stand up and question the other party, and even have the confidence to force the other party back. But in this case, he can only endure this breath.

Seeing Byron's performance, the peasants were so disappointed that the man in the couple had to bend down and beg the other not to take away their important labor to plough the cattle.

"I don't want that thing with bones left, take out the money, or I'll slaughter those beasts!"

However, in the face of the knight's aggressive attitude, the peasants' pleas had no obvious effect. In desperation, they could only put down their farming tools and go back to the house to find the remaining valuable things.

"Fifteen dinars, buy that lean cow."

Maybe it's because their conscience is not going, or maybe it's because the villagers' unspoken requests haven't helped them fulfill. Byron found the old man and handed him a few silver coins.

The old man's indifferent and helpless expression changed slightly, and after thinking for a while, he accepted the money.

"Sir, you can always take him away"

The tone was full of pain and helplessness, they didn't have a good impression of Byron before, and they still are.

However, Byron has his own considerations, with his current strength and aristocratic class, even if it is just a little baron who doesn't bother to mention in the game, there will be no good fruit to eat. And those cowards have been hiding in the house, and even if John is counted, they are no match for those people.

Although it is a little loss, this cow will not be bought in vain, and it is better to give this cow to the village elders when it comes to Vida, so that it will be easier to recruit troops.

But just as he was trying to suppress the anger in his heart, John came over and whispered something in his ear.

"Trust me, head, that guy isn't a nobleman at all!"