In the sunset, the village of Folde, which has experienced the erosion of war, looks particularly desolate.

Many cunning crows lingered on the village and sang, and from time to time they landed on the corpses piled up in the open space next to the village and slapped a few times. After someone approached, they flew up quickly.

"These evil birds that should be hit by thousands of thunder are really annoying." A militia with messy hair and exhausted faces and another companion placed the last corpse on the grass, stood up and drove out the mourning messenger who was pecking at the bodies of other dead soldiers.

"Village Chief, how many people we killed or injured this time?" Although Simon didn't want to face this sad number, he knew that what should come would always come. It was better to have a short pain than long pain.

"My master..." The village chief looked up at Simon, his gray and blue eyes full of hesitation.

"Tell me, I'm not the kind of person who can just throw my temper on others." Simon knew that the casualties might be more severe than he expected when he saw the village chief's expression.

Indeed, after this war, Simon never saw many familiar faces and figures that had been together day and night before training.

"Okay, 19 people died in the militia, and two people were seriously injured and it seemed that they could not hold on. Now the entire militia, including those with minor injuries, can only fight," the village chief's voice trembled, "Five people died in the archers. Now there are only six people in the archers, including Bill."

"Damn it!" Simon usurped his fist and frowned.

"Also, my master," the village chief pursed his lips and said slowly, "We have six villagers who rushed up to support when the fort gate was about to be broken. One villager who jumped down from the fort wall and escaped fell to death, and another seven or eight were injured."

Simon just listened quietly, without saying a word. After a while, Simon picked up his oak glass and walked to the barrel of the loot pile to scoop a glass of red wine and drank it all.

"Calculate the specific list of people who were killed and injured, and give them to Hoffman. He knows how to do it. By the way, the list of rewards should be counted, including those farmers who stood up in front of the fort."

Just then, a Dorsten noble cavalry, dressed in a soft armored lining covered with wine and oil stains, held a large glass of beer in his hand, staggered from the hill road of the wooden fort.

"Si, Master Simon, Master Cooser wants me to ask you to celebrate together." The drunk cavalryman's tongue was a little knotted.

"Of course, I'll come now." Simon nodded to the village chief and walked towards the wooden fort with heavy steps.

…………

In the hunting villa in the wooden fort, or in the lord's villa, there was a cheerful air at this time.

The old baron, Sir Lange, Jonas and the noble cavalry ate the roasted and scorched oil, the charming aroma and steaming white bread made of grilled venison and fine flour, drank the sweet red wine, and talked loudly under the firelight of the fireplace, and bursts of laughter from time to time.

"Another apple pie!" Jonas grabbed a hot apple pie with his dirty hands and sent it directly into his mouth to chew it.

At this time, the wooden door of the villa was suddenly opened. Yonas, who was sitting near the door, only felt a cold wind whistling from the cold world outside the door, drilling straight into his collar, making him shivering.

"Who is my God? Close the damn door quickly," Jonas turned his head impatiently, and his expression froze immediately after seeing the person coming in. Then he showed a forced smile, "Oh? It's Master Simon. Please forgive me for your rude rudeness. I don't know why that damn Alger didn't shout loudly before you entered the door, which made me think it was the rude and clumsy chef again."

"He was so drunk that he couldn't even tell his name," Simon glanced at the cavalryman who was drunk and began to talk to himself, and said coldly, "You have never heard of any nobleman calling his own name before entering the door, right?"

"Of course not, oh! I mean, please sit down, respected Master Simon, the position in front is reserved specifically for you." Jonas began to stutter under the influence of alcohol, but he always maintained his respect and awe of Simon on the surface.

"Come here, my child," the old Baron Coother waved to Simon, signaling Simon to sit beside him, "Today is a day worth celebrating, I really don't know what troubles make you so depressed."

"Ah," Simon sighed and sat down beside Cooser, "My soldiers and villagers were killed and injured, but I had not thought of any good way to supplement the militia and the injured serfs."

Indeed, in this wilderness, the distance between the village is not only very far, but the population in the village is also very sparse compared to later generations.

If you want to gain more population and labor, the best way is to find a reason to launch a private war against other territories, plunder the other's population and wealth, and capture a large number of slaves and prisoners of war.

However, after this great battle with the Vikings, it was difficult for the remaining soldiers to provoke another foreign war.

If Simon attacked a small knight village or fief in some place and robbed a group of young and strong men, there would not be enough time to train these young and strong men into qualified soldiers before the revenge of the opponent's lord came to resist the enemy's attack.

"Ahh, is that just the question?" The old Baron Koother laughed, drank a sip of red wine, and patted Simon on the shoulder. "You don't have to worry at all. Those farmers are as powerful as the hares in the woods, with amazing reproductive ability. In a few years, there will be many more strong young men in your village."

"That would take too long, and I might not be able to wait that long," Simon shook his head. "I need a population to train a new group of soldiers and archers to protect my fort and my spoils."

"Master Simon, if you think so many spoils are easy to attract people's covetousness, why not give half of your monarch, Lord Coorse." Jonas's harsh voice came into the ears of the two inappropriately.

"Shut up!" The old Baron Coother glared at Jonas, who was drinking with a flushed face. "How could I do such a robbery, let alone my dearest child, Simon. Simon, has grown up, and I believe he has his own ideas and ideas to deal with his own spoils, rather than you are here to point fingers."

Jonas simply wanted Simon to use the "sky-high protection fee" of half of the spoils in exchange for the old Baron Koother to draw a group of soldiers from Dorstenburg - Simon's most urgently needed defense force to station in the village of Fold.

It’s also a blessing that Simon had a very good relationship with his father before, so Koother did not use coercion or made Simon spit out the spoils in an unequal exchange of interests.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, my master, please forgive your stupid most loyal servant who often says the wrong thing. It must be the damn alcohol." Jonas said slowly like a drunkard in a tavern, red neck mixed with a strong smell of alcohol.

"I hope so." The old Baron Koother frowned and said nothing more. Instead, Simon narrowed his eyes vigilantly and looked at Jonas who was trying to provoke the father-son relationship. He didn't know if it was really drunk or fake drunk Jonas.

For a moment, the atmosphere in the lord's villa was a little awkward. Apart from the crackling sound of firewood in the fireplace, the sound of everyone chewing the barbecue, Sir Lange played with the sizzling sound of the empty oak wine glass in his hand, Jonas fell drunk on the table and made a faint snoring sound, and there was no other sound.

"Huh," and another glass of red wine was taken. The old baron wiped his beard with his hands, "Simon, I forgot to say that maybe you will have the chance to capture a large number of slaves soon."

"Oh?" Simon became interested, chewed the barbecue in his mouth a few quickly, and swallowed it. "What chance?"

"This time, Earl Berg invited all his vassals to the banquet, and it is very likely that he would prepare for the fight against Earl Loon on the other side of the river." The old Baron Koother said playfully.

"But this is just our guess." Sir Lange put down his wine glass and added.
Chapter completed!