Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest-Chapter 338 - 11: Three Years of Farming Yield a Year’s Harvest

Chapter 338: Chapter 11: Three Years of Farming Yield a Year’s Harvest

The First Generation Riptide was indeed on the verge of shooting down an adult Red Dragon—the name Riptide Dragon Castle originates from this incident.

Roman knew little about the Dragon Clan, filled only with strong curiosity.

But that was it.

If Igo had dragons, so be it.

Queen Cangyue was also a high-rank vampire, and Roman found her quite intriguing.

He understood Shasta’s good intentions; who wouldn’t want the lord they serve to be stronger?

But he really couldn’t spare the effort now.

Recently, Mona had pleaded with him to aid Cangyue.

Roman felt he couldn’t support her at all.

Not to mention sending troops, he couldn’t even transport weapons or armor there.

Laisa had set out from Cangyue territory, crossed the mountains, and reached Origin City, which took her one to two months.

Mona, leading a hundred auxiliary witches, took the same path and equally one to two months.

And they had come on foot, rushing through the mountains, carrying scrolls in backpacks.

Roman would have to traverse the same path with the same backpacks to get the supplies there.

Because ox carts and horse carts couldn’t navigate the mountain roads, and the roads were rugged and uneven.

The only way to transport supplies on a large scale was by water through the Bro River.

But the Divine Mysterious firmly controlled that river.

Transporting supplies to Cangyue, claiming it was for business, would essentially lead to a confrontation with the Divine Mysterious on the battlefield of Cangyue.

If Roman couldn’t deliver a war of annihilation with tens of thousands of troops in the short term, it would turn into a prolonged tug-of-war.

In fact, let alone a long-term conflict, even fighting for half a month would drag down the whole Origin City with the consequences of the war.

Firstly, one thing must be clarified.

That is, in the past wars, Roman had fought at his doorstep, stepping out to thrash the enemy and then turning back home.

But deploying troops over long distances was not the same at all.

What really troubled Roman was always one thing.

That was food!

Origin City and Fertile City were self-sufficient enough, but once they engaged in war and halted production, everything would be over.

The saying goes, "Three years of cultivation yields the savings of one year; nine years of cultivation yields the savings of three years."

Meaning, in ancient agricultural societies, cultivating for three years could withstand one year of natural disasters, merely withstand, and war was one of those disasters.

There was no choice. The foundation was too shallow, too thin.

First, get the reserve grain sorted out.

These days, without grain in the storehouse, nothing felt secure.

Roman returned to Fertile City and first spent two days roughly inspecting the land conditions.

This round of vegetables had been grown with peat and manure, showing very promising growth, with a potential yield of three to five hundred pounds per acre.

The speed of infrastructure development was also very fast.

After the autumn plowing ended, the farmers could be pulled over to pave roads and build houses.

Two hundred people could be pulled from a settlement with a thousand people, four hundred from a two-thousand-person settlement.

Ultimately, Roman needed able labor, and it didn’t matter who it was, as long as they came and were fed.

Although it couldn’t compare with the vast scale of Origin City, the scattered totals were not to be underestimated.

Stone masons, carpenters, bricklayers, each with their tools, came in batches from Origin City to Fertile City.

The construction crew had learned collective teamwork in Origin City, and upon arriving in unfamiliar places, they quickly adapted and found their rhythm.

With the perfection of the ruling system, labor efficiency had greatly increased.

Time quickly arrived at September.

The weather had begun to cool down. Although the summers in Fertile City were cooler than in Origin City, autumn was colder than in Origin City.

It was now late autumn, and it wouldn’t be long before the snow began to fall.

Thin clothing was hardly sufficient to ward off the chill.

At this time, the textile factory had produced the first batch of woolen shirts, totaling twenty thousand sets.

The design was uniform, a standard adult size, and the combination of a woolen shirt and cashmere pants weighed four pounds, providing a significant warmth-retaining effect.

They were first given to able-bodied workers.

It was necessary to do so, construction tasks needed to be accelerated, and the cotton had also been harvested at this time.

Roman needed people to pick his cotton.

He had planted five thousand acres.

Although the yield of cotton was very low compared to wool, producing only about twenty pounds per acre and processable into five pounds of cotton, it could only meet the clothing needs of five thousand people.

But farming was a business without capital investment, involving only the input of labor.

Moreover, with so much barren land in Fertile City, how could it not be cultivated?

Roman was busy arranging production and construction tasks in Fertile City.

Meanwhile, Origin City had also started this year’s harvest.

This round of autumn harvests mainly included soybeans and rice.

The former was average.

Because Gwivelle did not bless the bean seeds, their yield per acre was roughly the same as last year, and soil improvement only slightly increased the yield. The average was one hundred and fifty pounds per acre.

But the rice was very pleasing!

All were grown from Gwivelle No.2 seed rice, harvested one million four hundred thousand pounds from seven thousand acres, achieving a leap in yield per acre from a little over one hundred pounds to just over two hundred pounds.

Roman knew, the lower the starting point, the higher the potential for improvement.

But for now, the increase in rice was still very substantial.

It was expected that once Gwivelle No.3 seed rice became available, its yield per acre could take another big leap.

"Your Highness, are you very happy?" On the country road, Shasta asked.

A messenger raven perched on Roman’s shoulder. This creature was highly intelligent and, after being trained by the Beast Witch, could reliably travel back and forth between Origin and Fertile Cities delivering messages.

It usually went to Fertile Castle.

And just happened to see Roman on the road this time, so it landed.

Although he had not witnessed it personally, the letter was already in Roman’s hands, and he could still imagine the scene of the rice fields at harvest time.

"Of course, this year the pigs raised in the meadow pastures weighed 150 pounds at the time of their penning!" Roman put down the letter, looked at the witch, and nodded affirmatively, "Hmm, about the same weight as you."

Shasta was tall and curvy, the epitome of a glamorous figure.

Her expression was mild, feeling somewhat helpless inside, already used to the character of her master; whenever something good happened, he would start rambling.

She did not reply, and Roman did not feel disheartened, cheerfully starting to calculate with his fingers.

This year more than ten thousand pigs had been penned, which was no small number.

Every part of domestic pigs could be used, even the bones could be used to make soup.

Especially the castrated pigs, not only were they sizeably plump, but their meat quality was incredibly delicious and not at all gamey, nearly a hundred percent utilization rate, making them an extremely superior livestock.

Indeed, these really were animals that grew meat by eating grass.

Now, the canal had also been partially dug, along which new farmland and pasture lands suitable for living could be found.

Breeding scales would gradually expand.

Roman received a letter in the morning, and by the afternoon, fresh pork along with rice and flour had been delivered.

He was very pleased, and immediately went into the kitchen, asking the head chef to assist him as he personally made a dish of braised pork over rice.

Not many people had the opportunity to enjoy this meal, only Margaret and Shasta, among other close attendants, joined him.

By the end of September.

Origin City’s merchants had sailed back from Ice Island and brought news that delighted Roman immensely.

The construction of the shipyard at Sea Castle was complete, ready to begin the mass production of ships.