A free farmer who was watching over the humble wooden watchtower in the village of Folde was drowsy leaning against the pillar.

"What sound?" Lie Nong, who was half asleep and half awake, opened his hazy sleepy eyes, wiped the sticky booze on his eyes, slid on the railing and looked up at the railing.

"Is that Miller?" Liberty Nong was startled when he saw a well-equipped convoy driving towards the village, but he found that the soldier walking in front looked more and more like Miller.

"That's the master," Freenn saw Simon riding a war horse in an emblem burqa behind him, and shouted loudly to the village, "The master is back, the master is back!"

"What?" Several women who were working listlessly in the weaving workshop stopped their work, stood up from the small wooden chair, and ran out of the house door excitedly.

"Young Master," the fat man ran quickly towards the convoy that had already reached the entrance of the village, completely ignoring the fat that was constantly shaking on his body, "You finally came back, aren't you injured?"

"I'm fine, but they still need to be raised," Simon stepped off the horse, took off his deerskin gloves, and wiped his head full of sweat. "When I'm not here, everything is OK in the village?"

"Everything is normal, Master. Some of the thirty slaves sent by Baron Isel in the north serve as serfs, and some of them have completed the training of recruits. Now they are all building wooden forts on the hill!" The fat man proudly patted his round belly and pointed to the wooden fort on the hill.

Simon looked along the fat man's finger. At present, the exterior wall of the wooden fort was left empty except for the original plan to be the Fort Gate and the Arrow Tower, and other walls had been erected. Simon could also see the soldiers in the wooden fort erecting the scaffolding behind the wooden wall through the vacant part on the wall.

"Beautiful job," Simon nodded with satisfaction, "the remaining complex engineering projects will be carried out by the stonemason Mr. Ryan."

"Welcome to the village of Fold, this is a land of God's sacredness. You will definitely fall in love with it." The fat man grinned and stepped forward and patted Ryan on the shoulder.

"Village Chief," Simon saw the village chief who was panting from the crowd, "It's really a trouble for you to supervise serfs to work and supervise engineering construction during this period!"

"No, lord, this is what a village chief should do!" The village chief smiled and stroked his beard.

"There is one more thing you need to do now," Simon waved to the little Krishn who was holding a pack horse behind him. "Register all the weapons and equipment he brought back this time into the warehouse, and then arrange for people to take care of the injured soldiers."

"No problem, my master." The village chief took the reins, pulled over a serf watching the fun next to him, and attached his instructions in his ear.

...

"Everyone gathered!" The fat man shouted loudly to the soldiers who were building the wooden fort. All the soldiers immediately put down their tools and wood and hurriedly ran to the small open space in front of the wooden wall and lined up in two rows.

"Look at these new faces and new blood. Now the militia team should have almost forty people!" Simon thought to himself. The dozen or so soldiers in the first row were veterans who survived the battle of bandit suppression, while some of the new soldiers in the second row were the original free farmers in the village, and some were captured deserter slaves in the battle of Iserburg Territory.

"Quiet," Simon shouted, and the queue, which was just a little noisy, suddenly became silent. "Although I have not witnessed your hard work these days, the strong walls that have been well-bred behind you are the best proof. I will ask Lord Hoffman to choose from everyone who is the most active in working these days and who are the most engaged in commendation."

Amid the soldiers' anticipated gaze, the fat man weighed the money bag around his waist, and the crisp sound of coins colliding sounded.

"The militia welcomed new members some time ago. I hope you can adapt and integrate into the militia as soon as possible. Some of you should be very clear about what kind of outcome you would have come that afternoon without my great mercy. I still remember that many of you were scared that day and were full of pants." Simon just finished speaking, some veterans in the front row laughed, while the recruits behind them blushed and lowered their heads.

"The ugly thing is ahead. You have betrayed Baron Arnhem once on the battlefield, so I doubt whether you will betray us and abandon our teammates as shamelessly as that time in the next battle for me." Simon narrowed his eyes, his tone suddenly cold.

"No, no, no," said a recruit in the back row with some cowardice, "We will never do such a thing again, absolutely not."

"I hope so. If any of you dare to be a deserter, execute him directly and confiscate his property," Simon's gloomy eyes glanced at the former Arnhem deserter recruits in the back row. "In contrast, but if you can fight bravely on the battlefield and fight hard to kill the enemy, I swear that I will not treat you badly. Have you heard it?"

"Yes, my master!"

………

In the evening, Simon, who had settled down, was having supper with the fat man and Little Crentine. Suddenly, anxious shouts came from outside the house and were getting closer and closer.

"Old, master, master!" A soldier hurriedly ran to the hunting villa.

"What's the matter?" Simon put down the wooden bowl and spoon, stood up, opened the wooden door, and looked at the outraged soldier, "Little Clein, scoop a bowl of water for him."

"Thank you," the soldier raised his head and drank a whole bowl of water, wiped his mouth with his sleeves filled with all kinds of filth. "A seriously injured guy came to the gate of the village, chanting your name with his master. When our people came forward to ask him who he was, he fainted!"

"Take me to see." Simon walked out of the room without saying a word. However, he didn't take two steps and seemed to remember something again. He went back to the bed inside the room and pinned the sword to his waist.

When Simon and the soldiers leading the way walked to the entrance of the village, they saw curious villagers gathered in a circle and chatting about something.

"Everyone, the master is here!" The soldier pushed away the crowd and squeezed into the circle with Simon. Only then did Simon see clearly that a man was wearing a dilapidated pilgrim beggar uniform and a big hood.

"This back looks familiar," Simon said strangely, and with the help of a villager, turning the stranger in an instant, "My God, Ludwig!?"

"Master, do you know him?" The villagers around were very surprised, but they also rushed forward to help raise the bruised Ludwig in a coma and walked into the village.

"What the hell is this old guy doing?" Simon smelled the heavy sweat odor of Ludwig, looked at the bruises on his forehead, and frowned, "He is my friend. You can take him down first, and then ask the village chief to arrange personnel to take good care of him!"

"Okay, my master." The two young serfs carrying Ludwig nodded and walked towards the village chief's house.

As the crowd gradually dissipated, two familiar figures were still standing there.

"Master, long time no see!" The old winemaker smiled kindly to Simon, and the wine girl behind him also saluted Simon slightly.

"Yes, long time no see. How are you doing recently? Are you still used to it?" Simon smiled and walked forward.

"Very good, my master. With the help of your soldiers, Alice and I temporarily have a simple residence and a simple temporary brewery. Now, we are making sweet and sour fruit wines with berries and wild fruits in the forest!"

"Is that right? Maybe a small tavern can be opened in the village in the future, so you can be a supplier of taverns and bring you all kinds of fine wine!"

"Haha, of course, you can be a master, if there is really a tavern then." The old brewer laughed happily. Simon could see that he was very optimistic and full of hope for life.

"After the last time the reward was awarded, the soldiers had some spare money. Maybe they could wait until the storage room of the Mubao was built and converted into a tavern." Simon planned in his mind and walked towards the hunting villa.
Chapter completed!