HTLCCBFT Chapter 86

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 86

To accumulate enough experience points to level up Foraging to level 6, Oliver spent two solid days chopping trees.

By dusk on the second day, he had already exceeded the required 175 trees.

But Oliver only hesitated for a moment before happily continuing to chop.

The remaining half of his stamina bar was actually the third full bar he had replenished that day by eating cheese—with such high costs, it would be a shame not to use it up.

Another day passed with him chopping until it was completely dark.

Looking at the extra 5 full stacks of wood in his backpack from the day’s efforts, Oliver was finally satisfied.

Adding yesterday’s 6 stacks and the original 1.5 stacks he had left… he now had nearly 13 stacks of wood!

He had to stop—even though he had cleared his backpack just last night and only brought what he considered “essentials” when he left, it was once again completely full and couldn’t hold any more.

This was partly because there were too many types of wild mushrooms, each taking up a separate slot.

To prevent his backpack from becoming too overloaded, Oliver decided to use all the mushrooms he had gathered to make healing potions, finally freeing up four slots.

In their place, 26 bottles of healing potions quietly appeared in his backpack.

Then, he put on a Cat God’s Ring and, with the help of its gentle glow, set off back to the castle with his followers.

As soon as he stepped into the fields, he saw several shadowy figures crouching in the farmland, rustling around as they searched for something.

It wasn’t the cornfield he had personally cultivated, but an area where slaves had interplanted other crops…

A flicker of doubt crossed Oliver’s eyes.

Just yesterday, the potatoes in the field had generally passed the sprouting and seedling stages safely.

With the arrival of the first inflorescence, they had entered the beginning of the tuber formation stage.

But it was only the beginning.

The largest potato tubers in the field were now no bigger than a fingernail, and many might not even have emerged yet.

Could anyone really be so desperate for food that they wouldn’t even spare the barely formed tubers?

Oliver found it hard to believe.

Since becoming the lord and taking over Laina, he had never actually collected taxes on the crops from the fields.

Not only had he distributed all the stockpiled grain from previous years—which the previous lord had rather let rot than allow the slaves to eat—but he had also gradually distributed the food harvested from last year’s autumn planting and spring harvest.

After all, with the previous cultivated land area in Laina, unless it was a bumper year, it was impossible to feed the population of over ten thousand, including slaves.

As the number of slaves increased, the total food supply decreased, so not only was everyone underfed, but a portion would always tragically starve to death.

Those slaves who couldn’t endure the hunger and encroaching despair and chose to head to the nearest Albury City almost invariably starved to death on the way.

Even if they reached Albury, the citizens there—whose situation was only slightly better than theirs—were clearly unwilling to take in these hungry, emaciated slaves.

Unwilling to watch the slaves die, Oliver had no choice but to find ways to create new sources of food wherever he could.

Including weeding and removing stones, clearing more arable land; increasing soil fertility through various means; restoring soil strength through fallowing and grazing; even those troublesome saline-alkali lands had to be washed of excess salt before being repurposed.

And it happened to be the hottest season with the most abundant food sources—summer… Under normal circumstances, this would undoubtedly be the time of year when slaves suffered the least from hunger.

Of course, normal crops grew relatively slowly and couldn’t mature completely in just half a month like the corn produced by the game system, which also bore fruit repeatedly.

But under this month’s careful tending and fertilizer irrigation, they had grown plump leaves and tall stems, appearing lush and vibrant..

Every corner that could be called a “field” had been planted to capacity.

Though they still had to wait patiently for over three months, just thinking about the harvest season…

…made the slaves unconsciously break into hopeful smiles.

Anyone could imagine how rewarding their hard work over these days would be.

This made Oliver even more puzzled.

In his Laina, even the lowest-ranking prisoners were allowed to eat until about sixty to seventy percent full after their daily labor.

How could anyone be driven to such extremes by hunger?

Just as Oliver showed hesitation, butler Fosse, who had also noticed their presence, suddenly darkened his expression.

Without hesitation, he drew his horsewhip, swung it heavily through the air, and shouted sternly: “Despicable thieves, come out!”

The sharp crack of the whip, accompanied by a terrifying “snap,” exploded beside the ears of those hiding. Combined with the authoritative, deep, and powerful shout, it immediately startled the “thieves” in the field, causing them to stumble out in a disheveled state.

“May the great Cat God bless you, Your Grace. Please, have mercy and hear our explanation.”

The five “thieves,” covered in dirt from hiding in the field, stood up and knelt trembling: “Please believe us, we are truly not thieves. We are only searching for our master’s lost pig!”

“Pig? Master?”

Oliver blinked.

Those plump pigs were the “luxuries” he had to forgo buying due to insufficient funds.

Recalling briefly, the image of the pig owner’s amiable face came to mind, and he couldn’t help but smile: “Are you Piggs’ servants?”

“Yes, yes! Your Grace! Our master is Mr. Piggs!”

Never dreaming that the noble Duke would remember their master, these servants—who had been nearly scared to death by the imposing butler—were so overwhelmed they almost burst into tears.

“You haven’t returned yet?” Oliver asked, puzzled. “The Summer Market ended over ten days ago.”

As far as he knew, all the merchants had long since departed.

The last group of merchants, burdened with heavy and unsold goods and finding it too troublesome to transport them back due to low costs, had delayed for a few days. When they still couldn’t sell the items, they attempted to offer them to the knights in the castle.

Of course, shrewd merchants weren’t generous without reason.

They were considering their future plans to return to Laina with a different batch of goods… So using these unsellable and heavy items to build good relations with the minor noble knights would definitely be a profitable move.

If only the knights were willing to accept them.

As for why they skipped over Lord Oliver—of course, even if they had a hundred times the courage, they wouldn’t dare offer such inferior goods as gifts to that most noble lord.

However, knights like Fosse and Noel naturally wouldn’t look favorably upon these goods.

Just as they were coldly refusing, Oliver, who had heard about the matter, couldn’t resist asking a few questions out of curiosity.

Upon learning that the goods included things like raw wool so abundant it had to be packed into sacks, cheap timber (clearly unaware that the people of Laina had already repaired their houses this year), rush grass for lamp wicks—and, unbelievably, even a blind horse…

Oliver couldn’t help but cast an expectant look at the butler.

“Keep them all.”

Meeting his young master’s gaze, Fosse impassively relented.

Since he had decided to accept on his young master’s behalf, he couldn’t possibly take these things for free.

How could these items, which in his eyes didn’t even deserve to be called “goods” but were mere trash, be worthy of being presented as gifts to his young master?

It would be better to simply buy them outright.

As for the funds, they naturally came from the newly made jars of pickled corn—since it was still early to deliver them to Kondiment, they could be used for immediate cash.

For merchants who spent years traveling and had to subsist on dry rations when away from towns, they were more than willing to pay a high price for unique foods that could strongly stimulate their taste buds.

As for the goods in their possession, they were already considered too poor quality by people in other cities.

After falling into unsellable status again, the prices were naturally unbelievably low.

There wasn’t even any need for haggling—of course, nobles wouldn’t engage in bargaining anyway. Fosse acquired the entire bulk of the goods for just 1.5 gold coins and stored them in the warehouse.

The only slightly special item was the blind horse.

Since it appeared relatively healthy and could barely pull a heavy plow with guidance, it was separately priced at 4 silver coins.

Under normal circumstances, a blind horse could fetch at least 10 silver coins on the market—provided its new owner didn’t mind its somewhat “questionable” background and wasn’t afraid of potential retaliation from its previous owner.

“Your Highness.”

Noticing Oliver’s puzzled expression, Fosse quickly stepped forward and explained in a low voice, “That merchant broke his leg.”

So it was that unlucky fellow.

Oliver, who had only remembered the man’s pigs but accidentally forgotten the unfortunate incident, offered a polite smile.

After a moment’s consideration, he instructed the servants, “I’ve heard he is a devout new believer who has felt the glory of the great Cat God. Have the guards help you recover your lost property, and as for you, take me to see him.”

Although Piggs had broken his leg from falling off his horse due to his own carelessness,

Oliver thought that since it happened on his territory, it was only appropriate to pay him a visit.

The servants widened their eyes in disbelief, their expressions brimming with flattered gratitude as they bowed deeply and exclaimed, “We shall sing praises of your benevolence, kind Lord!”

When Oliver finally arrived at the inn where Piggs was staying, he couldn’t help but frown.

Piggs’ condition was not just poor—it was utterly dire.

The once plump merchant, after lying in bed for just over half a month, had already withered to a skeletal figure.

Unaware of the arrival of the beautiful lord he had once admired so fervently, his prone position was far from arrogance: drenched in sweat from fever, his face flushed with a sickly heat, and breathing heavily, he had clearly fallen into a coma.

His previously broken leg was only symbolically wrapped in bandages.

Beside him stood a doctor wearing a mournful expression, attempting to “administer medicine” with a spoonful of some murky green liquid.

But Piggs, unconscious, had lost the ability to swallow.

Under the careless administration, the liquid only stained the cloth wrapped around his pillow an unpleasant shade of green.

Oliver furrowed his brow and asked, “How many days has he been unconscious?”

Only then did the doctor notice their arrival, startling so badly that he spilled the “medicine” in his hand. He hastily stood up and replied cautiously, “Honorable Lord, Mr. Piggs has been unconscious for three days… his luck has been truly wretched. He was nearly recovered, but a demon has corrupted his wound!”

Three days.

Upon hearing this answer, Oliver couldn’t help but look at the pig merchant with pity.

Even without medical training, he could tell that the cause of Piggs’ high fever and coma was likely infection—a severe systemic one at that.

Even in modern times, such a condition could be life-threatening if not handled properly.

In this era, where only quack doctors existed… Piggs’ servants had realized their master’s fate earlier than Oliver himself. Since yesterday, they had made several trips to the deserted temple, trying to find a priest who could grant their master a peaceful rest.

Tonight, only a few remained by Piggs’ side; the rest had gone out to search for the reportedly missing pig.

It couldn’t be helped.

After their master’s death, these valuable assets would be inherited by his eldest son—of course, after paying 30% of their value as inheritance tax to the local lord, Duke Oliver.

If even one pig went missing, those responsible for its care would face suspicion and severe punishment.

Oliver stared at Piggs, who seemed doomed to die, and suddenly remembered something he had just crafted in his game backpack.

[ Healing Potion ].

He had already verified that ordinary cooked food only affected his own body, which had been modified by the game system, and had no healing effect on others’ injuries or health.

But what about the [ Healing Potion ], produced from a system recipe and crafted by his own hands?

A thought stirred in Oliver’s mind.

Seeing Piggs on the brink of death, he could only adopt a “trying everything in desperation” mindset and instructed the butler, “Fosse, I want you to have someone bring that blind horse to the stable of this inn.”

As long as the blind horse hasn’t been poisoned… let’s try giving it to Piggs.

For Piggs right now, there’s clearly no better option than this.

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