The village of Folde is shrouded in large patches of trees and grass that have begun to turn yellow and green. Under the caress of the cool autumn wind, sometimes falling leaves fall from the trees in beautiful dance steps.

The old Baron Coother, dressed in a well-maintained armor shining under the morning light, rode his beautiful black war horse and walked slowly towards the edge of the village to the dirt road to the east.

Following the old baron was a listless, seemingly lazy look, but he kept scanning the surrounding Sir Lange and Jonas, the financial officer with heavy dark circles. Behind Lange and Jonas were three noble heavy cavalrymen wearing soft armor linings and hooded mail. At the end were five freeren light cavalrymen who were playing vulgar jokes with each other, wearing padded cotton armor or just a slightly thicker jacket.

"I feel like I'm back when you were a child, I taught you how to ride horses. That little guy is also holding the reins of my horse like you are now and walking in front of me." The old Baron Coorthor looked at Simon who was helping him lead the horse in front, and couldn't help but fall into memories of the good times in the past.

"Just go to Simon, I can walk the rest of the way myself." The old Baron Coorthor looked at Simon who was helping him lead the horse in front.

"Take care on the way, Koother." Simon stopped and handed the reins back to Koother's hands.

"Of course, no one can stop me from moving forward in my territory," the old Baron Cooer laughed and rubbed Simon's hair. "Child, the priest who held the funeral for the dead soldiers and twenty Dolstenburg soldiers will come here soon, you can rest assured."

"I can't express my gratitude in words!"

"Okay OK, Simon, we have to set off." Old Baron Koother waved his hand.

Simon nodded, retreated to the side of the road, and watched the figures of Coother and his group gradually fading away.

Simon finally decided to ask his father to send troops to garrison for a while, but the price was much lower than that of Jonas's insidious guy.

Now the wooden fort in Fold Village needs to be repaired, and the Lord’s Villa needs to be converted into a tower villa. The church planned to be built not far from the wooden fort must also start construction as soon as possible.

"After the war that happened in his territory ended, a bunch of troubles would follow." Simon rubbed his temples with a headache.

………

"Master Simon, are you saying you want to continue hiring me for a while, right?" In the account room that was temporarily used to live for Ryan, Ryan, who spread the drawings on the table and constantly changed the paintings, raised his head and watched without surprise as he walked in to Syan.

"Yes, now my territory is in urgent need of an excellent stonemason to help me repair the castle, transform the villa and build the church," Simon said, and took a round small ping-pong bag from his waist and placed it on the drawing in front of Lean. "There are twenty silver coins in the silver coins in it. As for the contract, it is only necessary to change the previous contract a few words."

"Okay Mr. Simon, don't worry, you're wrapping it all around me!" Ryan smiled happily and put the small cloth bag containing silver coins into his big waist bag.

The weather turned cold, and some wealthy free farmers in the north of the kingdom wore wool robes to resist the cold. However, in the village of Fold, even the poorest serf with only a ragged thin linen vest was wearing thick Viking-style long-sleeved robes.

Serfs are one of Simon's important assets. Of course, Simon didn't want these guys who provided him with free labor to be frozen and sick or even frozen to death. So Simon simply distributed all the captured Vikings' clothes, pants, shoes and serfs to those serfs who were unable to resist the severe cold.

This moved the serfs who had initially put down their guard against Simon after the Battle of Wood Fort and burst into tears. One of them was more excited than the other, and they wanted to serve the lord well.

Those free farmers who want to get Vikings' clothing must pay a considerable amount of money or agricultural products equivalent to it.

No wonder people often say that instead of being a free farmer under a stingy and exploitative lord, it is better to be a serf under a rich and generous lord.

For a time, in the castle of the village of Fold, on the hills, farmlands, and in front of the houses, people wearing Viking-style robes and trousers, making travelers passing by think that they had arrived at a village established by Norman pirates.

In the militia in the village of Fold, almost every surviving soldier was assigned to soft armor linings, chain mail, various helmets, and various wrist guards.

The surviving archers were assigned to filler turbans, leather vests, leather gloves, and more arrows.

The hunter Bill was very interested in the longbow, so he chose a young man he thought was very talented in archery, and asked him to take another longbow, hunt in the forest with him, or practice in the simple archery field next to the village.

"I think it's time to go to Dresden and sign up for the mercury permit." Simon thought to himself.

"But with so few people and so many spoils to sell in Cologne, it is easy to be robbed." The fat man expressed his doubts.

"We are not short of money now, and the luxury goods in the trophy are not in a hurry to sell them," Simon thought it would be better to be careful. "Except for the part of the trophy in Lyle Monastery that was to be brought to the Archbishop of Cologne, the rest are placed in the storage room of the wooden fort."

"Okay young master," the fat man nodded, agreeing, "How many people will we take to travel this time?"

"Just me, you, um..." Simonto thought for a while, "Put it another Miller."

"Master Simon, what about me?" Little Klein escaped behind the two people who were talking.

"You," Simon squatted down and scraped the nose of Klein. "You can take care of my property at home and supervise their work with the village chief."

"But I really want to go there too. I can serve you, help you find food, feed your horses, and do anything." Little Klein seemed to be really eager to wander the outside world.

"Listen, Little Klein," Simon looked at Little Klein's blue eyes. "Now the village is in a mess and needs people everywhere, and there are only a few people around me who can trust. So, I need you to stay so that I can be without any scruples during the long journey."

"Master Simon..." Little Klein wanted to say something, but he didn't say it, just nodded heavily.

"Very good," Simon stood up and patted Little Klein's shoulder. "I'm going to set out these two days. Tell the village chief and ask a few serfs to help me prepare what I want to bring."

………

The dwarf Kohler walked in the fields wearing a filling turban that was not washed away with blood and a thick Viking brown wool robe full of sweat and sour smell.

In order to reward him for bravely standing up in battle to support the precarious Fort Gate defense line, the village chief specially rewarded him with a pair of captured leather-wrapped boots when allocating the Vikings' clothing.

Although it was a pair of leather-wrapped leather boots that had severe skin loss and wear, and had an unpleasant smell of mold and feet, Kohler, who had been so poor that he could not even wear shoes, didn't care at all.

The only thing that makes people feel funny is that these boots are too big for poor man, Kohler, who has a short foot, and after seeing him, he feels like he wants to laugh like a clown.

"Hey, Kohler, you have to thank me very much. If I hadn't persuaded you to rush to the Fort Gate with me, you would have probably been broken into a waste now." Kohler suddenly heard the voice of the thin old serf coming from his right, and looked over with his eyes.

"Old guy, it turns out it's you. You're doing well," Kohler smiled at the old serf who was also wearing a wool robe and leggings boots. "I heard that you killed two people. When the Lord knew about it, he divided the captured hens and gave you the right to raise livestock for him."

"Hahaha, that's right," the old serf laughed, "I only need to hand in five eggs every week, and the rest belongs to me."

"You are so lucky to be immortal." The dwarf Kohler was very envious.
Chapter completed!