bookandnovel Chapter 69: The Ball
Chapter 69: The Ball
The knight who led the cavalry was Fanda, the Knight of the Earth, accompanied by five other official knights.
The real reason why only six riders were sent was that the territory only had these six Ash Horses.
This is what they seized after conquering the Earth Dragon Tribe.
Goblins like to ride wolves, so these six Ash Horses are mainly used as pack animals.
Fanta only approached Haaland with peace of mind after confirming his identity.
If Harland hadn't come in person, Fanta would have simply sailed at a distance, waiting for the knights to arrive on foot.
"Welcome to Ashwood, Lord Harland!"
Haaland stood in front of the pit building, looking up at it for a full three minutes.
This wasn't his first time visiting Ashwood Territory.
Last time I came here, there were only adobe houses and adobe city walls. This time, the adobe houses have been replaced by eight pit-style buildings, the city walls are covered with blue bricks, and a whole row of catapult positions have been added behind the barbican.
He didn't speak, but simply shifted his gaze from the arched window on the top floor of the pit building to the skylight on the bottom floor, and then from the skylight to the windmill that was turning next to it.
Even in the kingdom, the windmill is considered a high-difficulty building.
Four canvas blades slowly turned in the morning breeze of the wasteland, and the wooden gear set made a uniform grinding sound.
At the bottom of the mill, the stone mill was grinding dried sweet potatoes into flour. Two strong women were holding burlap sacks by the millstone to catch the flour, which fell from the gaps in the millstone.
Harland was somewhat puzzled, feeling that this potato starch was different from the potato starch in their territory.
"And what's this?" Harland asked, pointing to the windmill.
"A windmill," Ron said, standing beside him. "It grinds grain with the power of the wind, without human hands or animals pulling it. The wasteland has nothing else, but plenty of wind. I'll teach you today; remember to bring your tuition next time."
Haaland didn't haggle. He walked around the windmill, carefully examining the gear transmission mechanism, and then glanced back at Grayson.
Grayson was squatting next to the mill, smeared some potato starch on his finger, tasted it, and then looked up and nodded at Harland.
"How much would it cost to build a pit building?" Harland asked.
Haaland fell in love with the pit building at first sight.
The pit tower's three above-ground levels are already higher than the city walls, and the roof can be used as an arrow tower. In addition, it can house a large number of people, and their territory is also in dire need of housing. Under the premise that the city walls cannot be expanded, the pit tower is the best building.
Since they are brick and stone buildings, the pit buildings in the city can become crucial defensive strongholds in the event of war.
The most crucial thing is the height of the pit building; look, some people have already started growing ground potatoes using pit buildings.
This is the true master of architecture, applying any architectural principle to practical use.
"Not for sale," Ron said. "But the construction of the windmill is negotiable. One windmill in exchange for your priority in grain trading next quarter."
Haaland was silent for a few seconds.
"make a deal."
He could understand the function of the pit building, and Ron certainly did; he was simply waiting for the right price to go up.
Moreover, the windmill was really practical, so he was naturally happy to buy it.
Haaland turned and walked toward the mill, but stopped after a few steps, scraping his foot on the rammed earth.
The ground was very clean, with no mud, no feces, no kitchen waste, and even the gravel was swept neatly.
Grayson glanced down at his feet, then looked up at the drainage ditches built of blue bricks on both sides of the main road. The bottom of the ditches was paved with gravel, and sewage was flowing along the ditches toward the sedimentation basin outside the city wall.
There was no unpleasant odor along the entire main road.
"You even build your sewers with bricks?" Harland asked.
"The raw materials for the sanitary fertilizer workshop cannot be mixed with sand," Ron said. "If the sewers are not clean, the residents will defecate and urinate anywhere, which will pollute the water source, and water pollution will cause people to die. Every death means one less worker for me."
Harland didn't reply. He looked at a row of uniform adobe houses by the roadside, with wooden buckets of the same size placed at the door of each house. The buckets were filled with fine sand, which were simple sand buckets for extinguishing fires.
There are signs at the entrance of each room, with uniform spacing, as if measured with a ruler.
He thought of the makeshift shacks and garbage heaps scattered across his territory, as well as the wells that always had a strange smell.
He took a deep breath and suppressed those thoughts; now was not the time for reflection.
"You didn't come here just to see the windmills, did you?" Ron said.
Harland withdrew his gaze. "Novia's second son is more capable than you think. After Devon was placed under house arrest, he single-handedly dismissed Devon's men, replacing half of the cavalry in De Gea territory in just half a month. Ramon didn't stop him. If this continues, De Gea territory will eventually be controlled by Novia. At that time, your volcanic ash quota won't be 50,000 catties; it might be 100,000, or it might be none at all."
Ron didn't reply; he knew what Harland was waiting for.
Wait for him to express his opinion on this news, and then take the opportunity to make demands.
But his mind wasn't on the volcanic ash quota; he was thinking about something else.
"Harland, have you received an invitation to the Border Lord's ball?"
Haaland's expression didn't change, but his fingers paused briefly on the hilt of his sword.
"Received! Every year, the Border Count of Florentino of Gorubakburg sends invitations to the lords of Blackthorn Wasteland who have names and titles. I go almost every year."
"How is it?"
“It’s boring!” Harland said. “But it’s very useful. All the surviving lords send people, and some go in person. The border lords’ ball is the only place where territorial annexation isn’t discussed at the table, not because of the rules, but because the people of the kingdom are present, and no one dares to make a move under the border lords’ roof. So what’s said at the ball is more worth listening to than what’s said on the battlefield.”
Haaland gave a playful smile: "So you're getting ready to go."
"go!"
Haaland looked at him for a moment, then nodded.
"Then let's go! Maybe we can even buy members of the Ashwood family at the market. Don't bring too many people; the Border Earl doesn't like overly arrogant people. Here's an invitation."
Ron took the invitation that was thrown at him and casually stuffed it into his pocket.
Behind the mill, there was a small workshop where female workers were processing ground potatoes.
First, the washed yams are ground into a fine paste, and then filtered repeatedly through multiple layers of burlap to remove coarse residue. The resulting starch slurry is then allowed to settle, a process that takes at least six to eight hours. After the starch settles to the bottom, the top layer of water is removed, and the wet starch is taken out, hung into a ball, and dried in the sun. This yields yams starch used for making vermicelli.
Therefore, the most common items in this workshop are half-meter-high ceramic jars.
The flesh of the ground yam is naturally pale yellow, and the starch slurry after sedimentation is a rich orange-yellow color, which shines slightly in the earthenware jar.
Harland asked with a strange expression, "No wonder I felt something was off when I saw your ground rock potato starch earlier. So that's the real reason. What are you going to do?"
Ron smiled but didn't answer: "You'll know when it's done."