System: Build My Own Territory Chapter 905 - 277: Wildfire (10,000 Words)_2

"If you encounter any difficulties, feel free to send for me at any moment."

"I will dispatch soldiers immediately to assist you in resolving them."

"Should any matters remain too challenging to handle, you can relay them to Lord Wesley within the Manor Castle."

Gavin inclined his body slightly at the waist. "Understood, Centurion Earl."

Earl responded, "Just call me Earl."

"Barring any unforeseen circumstances, I will be leading this contingent to establish a permanent garrison in Morgan Town."

"There's no need for such formalities between us."

Gavin offered a smile. "Very well, Earl."

After acknowledging Gavin's words, Earl turned his head and addressed the cavalry with a resonant voice, "Clear the path for Agricultural Officer Gavin!"

Sharp, unified shouts erupted from the assembled cavalrymen.

"Aye, sir!"

As the final shout faded.

The countenances of the Free People were etched with solemnity.

Beneath their watchful, tense gazes.

The cavalry soldiers tightly gripped their reins, guiding the powerful warhorses beneath them to flank the road, creating a passage.

Observing this maneuver, Gavin's eyebrows rose slightly.

He was, of course, fully aware that Earl was providing him with overt support.

Without uttering further words, he proceeded forward through the cleared path between the cavalrymen, heading directly towards the town's entrance.

The Free People trailing behind exchanged glances amongst themselves, ultimately deciding to continue their procession.

As they passed individually before the mounted soldiers, a few of the Free People could not resist lifting their heads for a surreptitious look.

Upon witnessing the bulky figures clad in their dark gray armor, which strained tautly against their forms,

and how the armor gleamed with a hard, cold metallic luster under the torchlight,

the palpable aura of martial power, akin to tempered steel, compelled them to hastily avert their gaze.

Not daring the slightest transgression, they rejoined the flow of people, trickling into the town one by one.

...

While Lynn was diligently dedicating his days to accumulating experience within the confines of the canteen kitchen,

five days elapsed in what felt like the blink of an eye.

It wasn't until the afternoon of the fifth day.

Having toiled for the majority of the day, Lynn emerged from the canteen, slightly breathless.

He settled onto a nearby bench and took several refreshing gulps of well water.

The lingering heat that suffused his body gradually subsided.

Lynn emitted a contented burp.

His gaze drifted, settling upon the Lord's Square.

The massive stone rollers, crafted by Avery's Stonemason Workshop, had already been delivered.

Currently,

under the direction of the Farmers, who were guiding the draft horses, these rollers were being employed to thresh the inaugural batch of barley that had completed its drying period under the sun.

Each stone roller, weighing well over a thousand jin, moved back and forth, crushing the golden mass of barley grains and stalks.

The rollers themselves were constructed from blocks of granite, meticulously shaped into cylindrical forms.

Wooden axles were securely fitted into both ends of these cylinders, facilitating the attachment of draft animals.

In addition to the Farmer at the front controlling the draft horse, another Farmer was required to follow closely behind, continuously repositioning the barley that was undergoing the crushing process.

This ensured that the areas not yet sufficiently processed were brought to the upper layer.

The draft horse and the stone roller were then driven behind to crush and thresh these sections once more.

Given that the Lord's Square lacked the perfect flatness one might expect, each section of barley necessitated no fewer than five passes with the stone rollers to achieve complete threshing.

The initial pass served as a preliminary rolling, designed to dislodge the grains from their stalks and ears.

Subsequently, the second and third passes involved more meticulous rolling, thoroughly threshing any portions where grains still clung stubbornly.

If the results of the threshing were still deemed unsatisfactory,

the process had to be repeated, with continuous rolling until every last grain of barley was fully threshed.

This was, admittedly, a somewhat monotonous undertaking.

However.

All the barley from the fields had already been successfully harvested.

The remaining tasks were purely related to post-harvest processing; even if the work progressed at a somewhat leisurely pace, Lynn harbored no objections.

Once the threshing was concluded, and the Farmers completed the subsequent steps of winnowing and sieving,

this harvested barley would be ready for storage!

As Lynn observed the stone rollers systematically crushing the barley, listening to the low, droning hum they produced with each pass,

a peculiar yet familiar sense of déjà vu washed over him, as if he had witnessed this exact scene before.

Lynn took another sip of well water, and simultaneously, the distinct sound of pounding hooves echoed from beyond the Lord's Square.

Handing the waterskin back to Red, Lynn diverted his attention in the direction of the sound.

He saw a solitary figure on horseback rapidly approaching the Lord's Square.

As the horse drew closer, Lynn was finally able to discern the identity of the rider.

It was Gasper, the scout captain whom he had dispatched to Kakasong City.

Gasper also noticed Lynn seated on the bench.

He brought his warhorse to a halt about seven or eight meters away before dismounting with agility.

Taking long strides, and still slightly out of breath, he approached Lynn.

Gasper bowed at the waist and addressed him with deference, "Master."

Lynn offered a slight nod, met Gasper's gaze directly, and inquired,

"Have you managed to ascertain the extent of Jon Zuck's military strength?"