If I let you farm, will you become the emperor of the empire?

Dick brought Gweiler and Sana to Garin's hut.

The dirty doctor's beard was big, dirty and shaggy, and he smelled like herbs. No one knew his exact age.

But Garin must have lived longer than the great thief Borg. Such a person who is proficient in medicine is highly respected wherever he goes.

Dick and Jet knew Garin's identity in the past, and Dota and the hunters know it now.

But they were very tacit and never mentioned it to Gweiler, perhaps because they were worried about scaring her.

"Grandpa Garin, I see you are here."

Gweiler peeked in at the door.

Half of Garin's face was covered by his beard, and his eyes were kind and bright.

He asked Gweiler to stand in front of him, and then pinched her arm.

"You have grown taller and your body has become healthier. Very good, this is very good."

The dirty doctor nodded repeatedly.

Gweil took the cloth bag from Dick with a smile on her face. She said, "I brought you some food. Eat first. I'll go call Brother Jet over."

"No, I'm here."

Sanna was startled. Why didn't she hear anything?

Jet appeared silently behind her like a top predator.

His leather armor was so tattered that his original appearance could not be seen. He was of medium build but had a strong sense and his eyes were full of indifference. For some reason, he reminded Sanna of a profession called butcher.

The cold expression that ignored life and death scared her so much that she took a step back.

Jet just glanced at the little girl that Gweil brought.

He came to the door, squatted down, opened the cloth bag, took out the lamb leg from it, and then took a big bite and tore off a large piece of meat.

Jet made very little noise when he ate. He chewed and swallowed very seriously, like a ruthless eating machine.

Dick and Garin were not polite either.

The three of them sat on the ground, and took the beef chunks and pork elbows from the cloth bags and ate them heartily.

Gweiler was busy pouring beer for them from a wooden barrel.

The cool and clear beer swayed slightly in the cup, and Jet and Dick tilted their necks to drink it all, and the dirty doctor Garin couldn't resist the temptation of the wine - but Gweiler always felt that the bearded men drank at least half of the beer.

There may not be a lack of meat in the mountains, but there is definitely a lack of various condiments, and the staple food is also hard to find, so they can only eat mountain products and game.

Not to mention beer.

They were able to exchange some necessary living supplies through the relationship with hunters before.

But because the hunters left, they began to become isolated and helpless again, like an island in the sea.

Gweiler has come here four or five times during this period, and comes back once a month.

Each time she brought them a lot of food - Gweiler could take a lot, but compared to them, it was still too little.

Only Garin's life was not affected much. Every once in a while, farmers would still seek his help and send corresponding food or other items as rewards.

"Did Roman ask you to come this time?" Dick asked after he had eaten and drunk enough.

Gweil was stunned and shook his head, "I sneaked out."

Dick was a little unconvinced. These things were a high-standard meal for any noble.

In the past, Gweil brought only some white bread, meat slices and salt. Judging from the hardness of the bread, it was known that it was the rations that Gweil saved on weekdays, and the salt was also brought by her.

And this time, it was in time for the move, and the amount was not small. Even beer was brought.

"There are so many things at the celebration. No one will find out if I steal some." Gweil explained.

"What celebration?" This was Jet's second sentence. He looked up and asked.

"The celebration of summer harvest."

Summer harvest?

The three "savages" who didn't know the year looked at each other.

They were so out of touch with the outside world that they only felt that midsummer had arrived, but the mountains were very cool, and they had no impression of the sowing and harvesting.

Gweil chirped in their ears and was very excited, like a lively and lovely thrush, or a blue tit in the forest.

She talked about the changes brought by Roman, the dozens of kilometers of flat roads built by hundreds of laborers after months of sweating, and the continuous transportation of salt; she talked about the Wandong people who were plateau people, while Sanna was from the northern coast; she also talked about the lush wheat fields that looked like a golden ocean, and hundreds of thousands of kilograms of grain: the various delicacies at the celebration were countless and could not be eaten...

When she came to visit them a long time ago, she often talked about these things. Dick and Garin didn't care in the past, but now they listened to them seriously and in a trance.

"You should go and see it too." Gweil said at last.

"I think what Gweil said makes sense." Garin said to Dick.

Dick smiled bitterly.

"Jet, what do you think?"

Jet leaned against the door frame quietly.

He looked at the quiet and cool forest.

"You can't just let your hard-earned martial arts go to waste in the mountains?"

"Why not?"

Jet glanced at Garin.

"I started to use a sword at the age of five, and I became a master of swordsmanship at the age of eighteen. Only a few of my peers can fight me. I believe in the gods, have the testimony of the Pope, and I am loyal to the King of Sinnoh. I swear to punish evil and slay demons. But now I have ended up like this. Do you think I am to blame for it?"

Garin coughed lightly: "You are right, Jet, but... um... I mean but..."

"I didn't betray the gods, the pope, or the king of Sinnoh! They betrayed themselves and me, and it would be a great shame for me to bleed for them! If Holy Light Swordsmanship is a bloody swordsmanship that only kills innocent people, then I would rather never hold a sword again!"

His tone was as cold as stone.

"Roman wouldn't do that..." she whispered.

Jet glanced at her, "You have to pay as much as you get. There is no such thing as getting something for nothing in this world. You will eventually face what I faced in the past. You can't help yourself, and you can only bite the bullet and convince yourself, but you can't deceive your heart. In the end, you realize that you have made a mistake, your hands are stained with blood, and you want to make amends but find that you are powerless to do so..."

"So Roman won't do that!" She stared at Jet unconvinced.

"Do you think he keeps you as a pet that can only sing and dance..."

She was very sad and cried: "Why can't what Roman wants to do be what I want to do?"

"Jet!" Dick warned him with a bad face.

"It seems that you are living well in the noble manor." Jett calmed down.

At least so far, the lord did not force her to do things she didn't want to do.

He thought that the witch of doom would never come back after being taken away.

...

But Gweiler came back soon.

She was wearing a beautiful long dress and was getting healthier and healthier.

She said that Roman was building a barn and didn't let her get close, so he asked her to grow vegetables.

She found an opportunity to sneak out.

He only took a look to know that Gweiler had not been abused or hurt.

Jett thought.

But so what?

The conqueror used virtue to restrain barbaric violence.

He gave the knights the spirit of chivalry, made them understand dedication and sacrifice, set an example for all nobles, and made them elegant and kind.

But what about after the conqueror died?

The knights are still armed with violence, they only shout virtues but never fight for virtues.

The nobles are still nobles, they are high above, they don’t know the sufferings of the world, how can they understand true compassion and kindness?

Has it changed?

Has it not changed?

Has it changed?

Has it not changed?

Jet constantly, repeatedly, and cyclically questioned this era.