"Damn, such a big forest, there's not even a gasp!"

Marf cursed in his mouth, and with his right arm mechanically swinging the axe in his hand, he impatiently pushed away the branches that blocked the way, and the whole person was already on the verge of an outbreak. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

The hound in front of him whimpered in a low voice, not sure if he was intimidating or sympathetic to his master's words.

"Ram, don't go, just rest here!"

Malf walked under a large tree, shouted at his throat, and motioned for the dog to come back.

Ram barked softly, and submissively walked to his master's feet and bowed, his tail still wagging in the air.

Putting aside the small axe in his hand, Malf sat on the ground with his back against the trunk of the tree, and carefully took out a handful of crushed mugwort leaves from his waist pocket, and the treasure seemed to be stuffed into his thirsty mouth.

"Tsk-"

A strong sourness began on the tip of the tongue and spread throughout the mouth, and the intense irritation wrinkled Malf's weather-covered face.

Stimulated by the sourness, the fatigue gradually moved away from the body, and the drowsy spirit was also cleared.

The finely chopped mugwort leaf sat in Marf's mouth for a long time, until the numbness made him feel like he was about to lose his sense of the tongue, and then he swallowed it reluctantly.

Artemisia is poisonous, but anyone with common sense knows it, and Malf is no exception.

Perhaps this faint toxicity will make the noble lords in the high ranks afraid to avoid it, but for the poor at the bottom, cheapness and practicality are the only things that need to be considered.

Dangerous?

Who cares!

The days of hunger are enough to make the most determined sage lose his ideals, let alone a group of poor people with shallow knowledge.

After listening to and seeing a lot, even they themselves feel that their own "cheap life" is worthless.

Viscount Myne was not a good lord, and the living conditions of the people under his rule were not to mention the rich "Moult Domain", even compared to other territories that were also barren, they did not have any advantage.

The "Easterland" is mountainous and forested, and there is very little land that can be used to open up farmland, so there are many half-farmer, half-hunter lords like Marff under Viscount Myne.

There is no way, there is so little food that can be harvested from the land, and in order to make a living, the farmers who manage the fields on weekdays have to practice the skills of catching birds and animals.

No one can decide the barrenness of the geographical environment, and if you want to change it, you can only rely on the unremitting efforts of dozens of generations, and you can only rely on the power of the gods.

Maine is not just a rice worm who only knows pleasure, and has also devoted himself to the initiative of cutting down forests and digging mountains and roads, but unfortunately, the productivity of the territory is indeed a little low, so that the labor force that can be drawn is too small, and in the end, it can only be stopped.

Viscount Mayne, who had no choice, hit the gods with his idea, after all, a territory blessed by the gods would definitely develop much faster than if it didn't get the attention of the gods.

However, any common sense that has anything to do with the gods must remove the frozen coast, the place where the "Winter Goddess" has fallen.

This remote place, which in the early years did not even have a temple to the goddess of harvest, has a relic of a deity that would make any lord jealous.

Cold climate?

So what does it matter!

Loosening the soil, sowing seeds, waiting for the harvest, "farming" on the frozen shore is so easy.

Obviously, the climate outside is too cold to stand up, but the emerald green seedlings are growing in the wind and snow by themselves as if they don't feel it.

If wheat that is harvested once in March and harvested four times a year is barely acceptable, then the rice that grows from the snow in the mountains does make people a little suspicious.

The "Easterland" has always been dedicated to the temple of the "goddess of harvest", but the income of the barren fields is really small.

"Increasing the income of the land without consuming the land" is the fundamental doctrine of the "Goddess of Harvest", so the increase that can be obtained from barren land can only be better than nothing.

Of course, the Harvest Temple also has a set of effective governance methods for how to turn barren land into rich, but the price is not affordable for ordinary people.

I have never heard of a lord paying out of his own pocket to improve the fertility of the land, this is not a virtue policy, but a disease.

What's more, if he wants to impress the temple, he needs to pay more than just gold coins, but also a lot of political compromises.

"If the harvest is not good, just collect less taxes, and not have to accept the dictates of the sacrificers. ”

The lord's decision was naturally "correct", and under the half-cut tax, the life of the lord was still passable, but it was not very rich.

If there is anything else for the Easters to be proud of, it is their means of domesticating hounds.

The slender-rumped hound, which is unique to this "Easterling", is not only human, but also very fierce, and with its help, even if it encounters a tiger and wolf in the forest, the unadvanced hunters dare to turn it into their own dinner.

When he first took over the territory, Viscount Mayne, who was gearing up to make a big move, had the idea of beating this kind of hound.

He planned to sell the hunting dogs trained in the territory to the nobles in the imperial capital who wanted to show their bravery, and make the "hound trafficking" a feature of the territory, so as to build the territory's own commerce.

However, the prospect died in the first step, as the people were simply reluctant to sell their "member" of the family.

Yes, family members.

It is difficult for people who are not "Easter" to understand their feelings for the hounds they have raised since childhood, not the same love for pets as the rich and noble, but a kind of love for family and gratitude for benefactors.

In "Eastland", I don't know how many hunters have relied on the desperate protection of hounds to escape from the depths of the dangerous jungle, and how many families have survived one cold winter after another by relying on the prey caught by hounds.

People who are poor may have short ambitions, but they rarely have cold feelings.

The peasant woman never ate dinner, but saved it as a snack for the hounds before they set out in the morning.

One can imagine how angry and wary the people would be when they heard that someone was going to buy their hounds.

"What, give money? Your children will sell it if they give money? Besides, every household has no food leftover, so what's the use of me taking this thing?"

Do you know how far this is from the nearest town, and by the time I buy food, my wife and children will have starved to death!"

"Besides, there is nothing but a tavern and a weapon shop in the town, what am I going to do there, if I meet a ruthless adventurer, not to mention the money, I have to take my life into it!"

......

"You want to buy my hound, what are you buying it for?"

"Sold to the noble lord, you actually want to kill it and eat meat?"

"Fart! What is the identity of the noble lord, how can he go hunting when he eats white bread and drinks milk every day, that is what only poor people like us who can cope with their livelihood do, do you really think I don't know?"

"You want to trick me into selling you the hound, you can bring it to the table to flatter the nobles, I tell you, there is no door, get out of here!"

......

After the merchants sent were beaten out of the door by the people, and the forcible expropriation almost caused a rebellion among the lords, Viscount Mayne, who did not want to be seen as a joke by other lords, had to give up this idea.