Looking west from the watchtower of High Cliff Castle, the land the slaves had spent two months clearing stretched out before him. The black soil was endless, without a trace of green.
Having been the main battlefield, the soil here was soaked in blood. Severed limbs and shredded flesh were spread across it like fertilizer.
One could predict that the coming year would bring a bountiful harvest.
"It's also mid-September now. We can arrange for our subjects to plant wheat. Let our own people handle the planting, and send the idle Goblins to the mines."
Levi laid out his plans, one task at a time.
He placed great importance on the matter of planting wheat.
If they planted wheat this year, then next year High Cliff Castle would no longer need to buy food from elsewhere. This lifeline would be firmly in High Cliff Castle's own hands.
'He certainly wasn't going to let the Goblins do the planting. If he handed the seeds to those vile rats, he'd never see them again.'
