Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 168 Peasant Lord Roel

This makes people unbelievable and incomprehensible. When a peasant wants to become a lord, most Bretonnians will claim to be daydreaming, and daydreaming!

But when Roel drunkenly said this to his parents and fellow villagers at the dinner party, no one would mock him anymore. Half a year ago, he said in front of them that he would be blocked in every possible way if he wanted to do business!

Things changed too fast, like light flashing through the air, and when all the young women in the village looked at Roel, their hearts throbbed. Where did that whimsical farmer boy go?
But he didn't come back to reminisce, but because the fishing village on the shore of Pordero is also trafficked by small boats, and it is also a good place to grow grapes.

He has long wanted to be here, but he couldn't get it before. Now with Noke's help, things are much more convenient.

And this is his hometown, his real hometown. Only half a year later, when the memory of the current life faded, Roel realized where his real family is now.

If one day the army of chaos is wiped out, he hopes to return to his roots.

Secondly, although the location of the fish village is far from Musilon, it has an entrance to the sea.

The body is weak, but the cannon is fierce. The ship can eliminate the mobility problem of the cannon, and at the same time has powerful firepower, and can also enjoy its own skill bonus.

Undoubtedly, there will be a new addition to Pordereau's seafood king.

And the premise of all this is also very simple, that is to get your own port city, conduct business, shape shells and accumulate gunpowder.

Rome wasn't built in a day, and Bretonnia's sea kings didn't suddenly appear.

Currently…

Roel was holding his chest, watching the lord of the village where he was born kowtow to him.

To be honest, this feeling is very strange, especially since I have kowtowed to him since childhood.

However, it is not incomprehensible, when two hundred heavily armed soldiers and three or four knights, a Holy Grail knight, and a dozen musketeers suddenly come to your territory, looking for fun in your territory.

If you ask a farmer, they are closer to outsiders than to you. As long as you are not brainless, you must worry about whether you will be directly replaced.

As a smart, honorable and powerful nobleman of the knight class in Bretonnia, he chose without a doubt, shamelessly.

If you ask him where his dignity is, he will definitely say that you will be afraid even if you come.

"Master Holy Grail Knight, Lord Musketeer, you have a lot of them. I only need a job that can support my family. I definitely don't have too many ideas."

When Nock looked at the Lord bowing his head and couldn't help showing a smile, Roel couldn't help but blush when he thought of growing up here at this age.

"Get up, Your Excellency, we are not here to take your territory, but..."

"Buy, understand? Buy."

The lord understood immediately. "Thank you sir, thank you sir! Is it 50 gold coins or 30? Just give us enough to settle down."

It's so humble... It's okay for this person to live until the world is destroyed.

Roel concluded in his heart that 50 gold coins is almost equivalent to three months' income of a normal territory, and naturally it is not enough to buy the whole land.

And when this incident got out, his reputation was too bad, and his personal morality did not allow him to do such a thing.

If he really coerced the lord to give up his territory, Roel would have heard the system report that the chivalry would be reduced by 30 points or something.

While his system wouldn't be as sweet, the ratings of nearby lords mattered, as they needed to open their doors and let caravans through.

Although it is also conceivable to bombard him with cannons*, currently Roel's strength is entirely dependent on Nock, probably 200 men by himself, [-] men by himself, [-] peasants, a few knights and so on. .

It seems that this force is a bit exaggerated... Generally speaking, the Duke does not have that many permanent legions, unless he is particularly good at force and has a rich territory.

For a moment, a strange thought flashed through his head, how about taking down the city of Bordello?
Roel was suddenly startled by his thoughts, and subconsciously touched the doll on his waist.

eight winds...

He murmured in his heart that the Duke of Boldero was a good potential ally, a good potential ally, while he was really afraid that he would become a crazy guy like Pete one day.

Roel wiped the sweat from his forehead and said again. "Two hundred gold coins, I will spend two hundred to buy your territory."

The lord was stunned for a moment, and then he was ecstatic, because two hundred gold coins was equivalent to finding a deserted place and leading a large number of farmers to reclaim the wild land.

"Thank you, my lord, thank you, my lord." He greeted his knight and watched Roel take out a bag of shiny gold coins. He would hire soldiers or adventurers somewhere.

But for Roel, it didn't matter. When the lord put his family crest and name on the contract, and agreed to hand over all his property to the Holy Grail Knight Nock, Nock drew up another agreement to ensure that his heirs would be safe and secure. The document confirming that the real owner of the territory is Roel.

Just as agreed, the two documents were transcribed into three copies by the clerk, with Roel, the Grandset family represented by Nock, and the Pingli Nuoen family, the lord of this place, as guarantees.

This is the most effective legal document in Bretonnia. If anyone has any objections to it, only the king's court can make a judgment, and the ordinary knight's court cannot afford it.

Roel put the crumpled Boldero armor certificate in the box along with other documents, and then looked at the low houses below from the height of the domain castle.

Letting the sea breeze blow his cheeks, Noke walked to his side.

"How does it feel to be a lord, Mr. Knight."

Roel rubbed the tip of his nose. "It's a bit cold, not as warm as a peasant's house, especially the castle is made of marble."

Nock touched Roel's shoulder dissatisfied. "Md, the ghost wants you to tell the truth."

He combed his waist. "Do you want the whole ceremony or something?"

Roel shook his head. "I have encountered too many celebrations during this time."

Nock pointed to his head. "The people of Bretonnia don't think too much about the celebration, you must be an imperial guy, you drink horse urine."

Roel put on an imperial tone. "Oh, by Sigma, you brainless Bretonnian beastman."

"My God, I should show the priest of Ulrich what you look like in wine."

Nock was covered in goose bumps. "Damn, damn, it really looks like this, the imperial people I've seen are like this."

"By the way, brother, what are you going to do next?"

Roel looked at the port. "Can you imagine how much wealth I'll get if I take all the wine industry along the Bordello coast?"

Nock was taken aback by the words. "I'm afraid the residents of the mountains are nothing more than that, but how do you convince those lords..."

Roel just bowed his fingers. "Immortals have their own tricks."

　Oh, I wrote the 40k and signed it...

　　I will update this book normally. After all, I want to work full-time, and I will be happy to get two full-time jobs...

　　Then I thought, my name is really bad...

　　
　
(End of this chapter)