The former Ronald garrison troops - the current [New Iron-Feng County Infantry Regiment] was led all the way to the southwest of Revodan by Commander Montagne.

They walked on the dirt road in the countryside, and their sight was full of desolate wild land.

Only Tiefeng stands alone in front of him, like a friend.

The soldiers didn't know where to go, which made them a little nervous.

After surrendering, they were doing pretty well. They had never been beaten, were not hungry, and no one was executed.

So they docilely accepted the authority of the "Montaneg garrison", like a flock of sheep replaced with a new master.

So what can it be done? It’s just a matter of changing one person to hand over bread.

...

Winters led the [New Iron Group] to Forge Township for half an hour before he saw some people again.

So the team stopped in front of a small hill.

The centurion and the sergeant ran between the ranks, scolding and turning the formation into a horizontal and vertical shape.

Winters rode on his horse and inspected his troops.

One thousand two hundred people, one hundred arrows. It’s not too many, that is, thirty by forty.

But there are quite a few. If there are 1,200 warriors, it will be a force that cannot be underestimated.

After the whole team was finished, the commander said something.

Winters dismounted and stood on the hillside where everyone could see him.

"There are no land among you." Winters didn't need to scream, but his words were well conveyed to the soldiers: "Go ahead."

The soldiers looked at each other, and Tamas - the current centurion, former tenth chief, Winters' Wolf Town veteran, and the Benting family's chief labourer - took a big step forward without expression.

Others followed one after another.

"Of you, who have cultivated the land for others." Winters' voice reverberated on the hillside: "Go ahead."

It was Tamas and other centurions who took the lead, and the soldiers took another step.

"Those among you who want to own, cultivate your own land--go forward."

Everyone took a neat step forward, as if the forest was sliding.

Winters has never rehearsed, nor has he colluded with his old subordinates. He doesn't need to prepare in advance for small scenes like this.

The New Iron Corps is his unit that he devoted all his efforts, and every soldier, sergeant and centurion of them was selected by him personally.

He deliberately shaves off the soldiers from Revodan, deliberately eliminates the soldiers from the self-cultivated farmer family, and deliberately does not transfer any Dusak veterans.

The one hundred arrows and one thousand two hundred people from the new iron regiment were all from landless farmers.

Winters' expectations for this force are even higher than those of the three hundred teams of Bud, Andre and Mason.

"Sit." Winters waved his hand: "Sit down and said. Everyone stood there, and everyone behind was blocked by the front."

The veterans sat on the ground with neatness, and the others sat down one after another.

"Why don't you want to farm for others?" Winters asked.

No one answered, expected.

Winters pointed to a soldier in the front row: "You, get up, you say."

The short soldier stood up at a loss.

"What's your name?"

"Peter." The short soldier replied nervously, and he hurriedly said, "Peter Bunier...you gave it to you..."

Winters walked over to the other party and asked again: "Why don't you want to farm for others?"

Peter swallowed a mouthful and stammered: "As a long-term worker, only wages..."

Peter spoke very little, but he was surprised to find that the sound coming into his ears was very loud.

His voice came to everyone's ears clearly, but it was a little unstable, and it was very high and low.

This is the spell technique that Lieutenant Colonel Field once demonstrated. It does not increase the caster's voice, but stabilizes the increase of external sound sources.

Winters can't do as clever as Field, but it's enough.

“It’s not good to have a wage?”

Peter lowered his head and stared at the tip of his shoe: "Hard workers can't save money."

"Why can't hirers save money?"

Peter couldn't answer.

"I've seen this before." Winters asked Peter Bunier to sit down and said to the other soldiers: "A team of hired workers protect a convoy to Gervodan. This was the only opportunity they could save in a year, so they were willing to risk their lives. The owner kept his promise and paid them the reward and wages in Gervodan."

The soldiers listened silently, and what they heard was their personal experience.

"You guys say, what happened next?" Winters asked: "Have the hired workers saved up?"

Still no one answered.

When the hillside became quiet, Winters spoke calmly: "No, no. They spent all their money on wine and women."

The sun was covered by a dark cloud, and some soldiers lowered their heads.

"Do you blame them?" Winters glanced at the crowd, and everyone avoided his eyes wherever he looked: "Of course! Who told them to get the money and couldn't help but spend it?"

The hillside became increasingly dead, and even as if the sound of heartbeat could be heard.

"But you must know!" Winters shouted: "This is exactly the result that the owners want! They knew that the farmers worked hard for a year and were eager for even a moment of enjoyment! But they deliberately paid the wages in Revodan! They deliberately made things like this, but blamed the farmers for their poor morals!"

"Have you not experienced these things? Haven't you ever thought about it?" Winters asked, and he told the soldiers word by word: "What the owner of the manor wants is slaves for generations, and tenant farmers for generations. He hired workers as employees for life. When they get old and have no energy to work, they kicked them away and hired young and strong people."

All the soldiers subconsciously swallowed their saliva.

"You, stand up." Winters pulled a front row soldier up from the ground with a tough stern: "You say! You don't have land, why not go to open up the land?"

"The wasteland...the wasteland is from the official hall... I want to buy it..." The soldier looked around in panic and asked for help: "It is illegal to open up the land at will."

Winters pressed the answer and pulled up another soldier: "Why not buy it?"

This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content behind! "Buy... can't afford it."

"Why can't you afford it?" This time I asked the third soldier.

The person being asked couldn't answer.

"Say! Why can't you afford it?" Winters glared.

The person questioned still couldn't answer.

"Why?!" Winters asked the third time: "Can't afford it?"

"We have no money!" the soldier asked trembled.

"It's not just because you don't have money, but also because the land is too expensive! The land price is being pushed higher and higher, and even the self-cultivated farmers cannot afford new land. Only the owners of the manors, and only they have money to buy land. So their land is getting more and more, and others can only work for them."

"I will not cover up my intentions for you." Winters looked at the eyes of these poor soldiers: "I rebelled to break up the unfair rule of the New Reclamation Legion on this land, and then build a new republic on their bodies. A republic that allows most people to survive! This is my philosophy, and I can tell you clearly now."

There was a silence on the hillside.

"You may not understand it now, but you will understand it slowly." Winters sighed in his heart. He smiled and said loudly: "I brought you here today not to tell you the big truth, nor to tell you nonsense, empty words, and silly words! I brought you here to let you understand what I am going to do!"

He injected a hint of uneasiness and a hint of expectation into the crowd.

"Come on!" Winters shouted: "All those who want to own their own land will stand up for me!"

One thousand two hundred soldiers stood up together.

"Step! Go!"

Winters jumped onto the horse and walked in the front. The queue followed him and drove along the road towards the slope.

As soon as the soldiers climbed over the hillside, large patches of farmland appeared before them.

Half of the farmland still has weeds, and the other half of the farmland has been turned up, so the land has taken two different colors: yellow-green and dark black.

Because employees fled one after another, the production of most of the estates had collapsed, and the land occupied by the estates was forced to abandon them.

The abandoned farmland covered with weeds is now reviving.

In everyone's sight, two horses were pulling a pair of heavy plows with wings and strideing hard.

The coulter cut across the ground, the turf was pulled down, and the black soil was turned out, and the ditch gradually took shape behind the coulter.

Plowing the land is usually a man's life, but the one who is plowing the land is three women.

Two of them held the horse, and the other held the plow handle - they were preparing for the planting of wintering crops.

The soldiers looked dryly at the scene under the hillside - the land, women, harvest, and the rural paintings in front of them could satisfy all the desires of a farmer.

"What are you doing when you stand?" Winters glanced at the soldiers, feeling very happy: "From now on, these lands will be yours! I will give each of you--twenty hectares!"

The soldiers stood there, they were dizzy by the news.

They did not know what twenty hectares were, because the Paratu farmers were more accustomed to using the old system to calculate the land.
To be continued...