Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 152 Farmer's Ambition

At the moment, there are only Roel and Nock in the big tent of the camp. They are enjoying food, cutting meat pie and drinking milk.

With a click, Nock broke the fork again. Superman's strength made him unaccustomed, so he could only pick up the meat pie and eat it directly.

Roel saw that there was no one around, and the situation was mature, so he spoke. "Lord Nok, no Holy Grail Knight Nok, I'm just a grassroots person, but I have a wish, I hope you can help me fulfill it after the matter is over."

Nock muttered with a meat pie in his mouth. "What is it?"

Roel replied. "I want to have a piece of territory that belongs to me."

Nock's expression fluctuated violently, and then quickly calmed down, as if he knew Roel would say this.

But he asked anyway. "What do you mean, what are you going to do, territory? You know that even if your identity is recognized by a lady, you are still a farmer!"

"The land will not be ruled in your hands!"

Roel took a sip of milk and replied. "Poldereau, I want a piece of land in Bordereau, which is my hometown and still has my story."

"I am also very important to the nobles there, understand?"

Nock licked the meat pie from the corner of his mouth. "Have you thought about it long ago? No, I mean, you know it will become like this?"

Roel shook his head. "Things have changed too quickly. I originally planned to recruit a group of shepherds, and then rely on mercenaries and force to contract a manor."

"But it's different now. You can help me with your identity and strength, and you will win because of me and black powder."

Nock grinned. "Are we doing a deal? Do the two of us still need a deal?"

"I promise you to buy a piece of territory in Bordeaux in my name, but its real ruler is you."

"Afterwards, we will sign the contract privately. My descendants will not care a little bit about the management of your territory, and will not charge a penny."

"This way you can avoid the duke's gossip, and you can get the actual territory, how about it?"

Roel was also a little surprised that he answered so quickly. "Have you ever thought about something like this?"

Nock looked at the dinner plate. "I don't deny that Bretonnia is unfair to people like you, but I can't say it. I also want to plan a place for you to live in."

"But I really didn't expect you as a farmer to be so bold."

"I will honor what you asked the lord, and the land you asked me for."

"I only thought that you would ask for money. It seems that I have always underestimated you."

Roel waved his hand. "I also just want money, a place to spend my old age, and become one of the countless legends of Bretonnia."

"But, I said that this world will be destroyed, do you believe it?"

Nock grinned. "The destruction of the world? Hahaha... Don't be kidding, the gods are above, the lady is here, the Holy Grail is shining on Bretonnia, it doesn't look like the end."

Roel didn't feel aggrieved. This is why the major races died for unknown reasons. They didn't think the end of the world would come, even though the evil gods were still there and the wars continued.

"If that day comes, I hope you don't board the lady's warship, but come to my side."

Roel left only one meaningful sentence and left the tent, making Nock unable to figure out the situation for a long time.

At dinner time, the setting sun was slanting, and the smell of peasant bean soup was everywhere, and today they added an extra portion of jerky, finger-thin, to celebrate the hero's return.

The packed corpses were randomly piled up on the side of the road, and only the knights could be stored separately.

The training of the attendants and the reinforcement of the peasants still did not stop, everything was normal, but when Roel walked in the camp, he smelled a breath of death wind pervading the wilderness.

Necromancer?Isn't he dead?Or is the Count Vampire a Warlock himself?
No, it's... is it the magical power brought by the broken dimension stone?
Roel couldn't help the pain in his temple. Evil is always like this. The spring breeze blows and the weeds are inexhaustible.

"Is anyone there?!" He yelled, and dozens of farmers put down their food and came, as did several attendants and a knight.

"It's my lord, what's your order?"

Roel pointed to the corpse. "It's all burned, there's filth, I feel it."

Both the knight and the peasant looked distressed. "My lord, they are all warriors. They should not be treated like this. Their burning bodies cannot reach Moore, and their souls will be invaded by chaos."

"They can't sleep well."

Roel scolded. "If you are awakened by the eight winds, you can sleep peacefully, or do you mean that you can find enough Moore priests?"

He kind of hates that iron can't be made into steel, but this is also a reality. If it is burned, it will not be able to explain to the living.

Whether it's the relatives of the peasants or the families of the nobles, burning corpses in the Warhammer world is only done to the enemy.

But when the things piled up on the side of the road gradually climbed up under the intervention of magic, the farmers approached with torches in horror.

Fighting with necromancers is like this. Without the help of the priests of Moore, in the end, they can only destroy the bodies of the dead with flames, so that their souls cannot rest in peace, which is also painful and unacceptable.

It's probably equivalent to eating the corpses of your companions in order to survive.

When the peasants waved their torches desperately, the knight drew his sword to cut off the body of the corpse, and Roel drew his weapon and approached.

But after a while, the traces on Roel's arm gave out a lady's comforting light, and the corpses just stood up before falling down again, with unexpected peaceful expressions on their faces.

"What's the situation?" Roel clutched his arm, it was heating up, and soon, the mutation here was completely suppressed.

The peasants and knights looked at such a miracle in disbelief, and this is also the power of the goddess of the lake. According to legend, the corpse of the holy grail knight in Bretonnia can be completely immune to any evil corruption.

Just like they were before they were alive!
In the white castle in the distance, the revived Pete is frantically absorbing the ability of dimensional stone fragments, and countless primitive and pure magic power fills his body.

At this moment, he used enough magic to cover the surrounding ten kilometers to wake up all the dead, but suddenly felt like being pinched by the neck.

"Woo! The Goddess of the Lake?!"

His old pupils saw a terrible hallucination, a white lady stared at him, the magic power of the warp stone disintegrated, the spell in his hand was reversed, and the whole person exploded backwards, spitting out blood.

The lady does not have the ability to suppress the eight winds, so solve the problem from the source. At this moment, Pete is extremely resentful, and cannot use the dimension stone to form the legion again.

He suddenly thought of his old opponent, the masterpiece of the Ratmen.

"What's that called?"

The wight next to it added. "Abomination, my lord, that stitched monster is called an abomination."

(End of this chapter)