The Hero Who Troubles the Heroes

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Bishop John drank half the bottle of wine in one breath, then hiccupped.

"Ah..." He sighed comfortably, "Relaxed, I haven't had such a good wine in years."

Charles quietly cast a wind magic, blowing away the alcohol from Bishop John's side.

As the saying goes, it's not strange to be polite when you go out. Although Charles doesn't drink at this time, it is still necessary to bring some good wine as a gift.

However, Bishop John didn't seem to be drinking very well, and his face quickly turned red.

When he was on the construction site in his last life, Charles heard from a worker that there are three types of people who drink and get drunk: the pig type who sleeps when he is drunk, the dog type who keeps talking when he is drunk, and the monkey type who has ADHD when he is drunk.

Bishop John looked dog-like, and he couldn't stop talking once he opened it.

"You don't know, our Harvest Temple is having a hard time!"

"I thought that Philip could make us stand up, but no one expected him to die young!"

Charles was holding a glass of juice at this time, he touched one with Bishop John, and then asked: "Why are you living so hard, I think other temples are doing well?"

This is a big question in his mind. Agriculture is the pillar industry of feudal society. It is not as dispensable as souls and gods of dreams. There is no reason to mix so badly.

"Alas..." Bishop John sighed, "Three mountains of slavery, demonic beasts, and power supremacy hinder our development."

Charles thought about it for a moment, and found that he seemed to have touched a little inspiration.

Bishop John poured himself two more sips of wine, and he continued: "You are still young, and you may not know that slaves account for the vast majority of people engaged in farming and breeding."

Charles nodded, he really didn't know about it.

"So, what does the harvest have to do with the slaves?" Bishop John's face showed a trace of sadness.

Charles nodded again, like Mordred's old days when he could only squeeze in horse manure to keep warm, and the harvest on the farm had nothing to do with her. Even in the eyes of the farm steward, those livestock were not as valuable. Livestock were commodities, and she was considered consumables.

"As far as the stewards of the farms are concerned, it's good to have enough things in the fields, and their owners will not give them much reward." Bishop John continued to smother the wine and said, "As long as the places they manage are not They are satisfied when something goes wrong. They only come to us when they are infected with diseases or insects in the fields. The usual field management has already been written and published in a book.

Charles continued to nod, and Mordred could still use it as an example. There was an accident at the farm where she used to be, and the manager of the farm used her as a reward to invite adventurers.

Seeing that the wine bottle in Bishop John's hand was empty, he took another bottle and handed it over.

Bishop John took the bottle, opened the lid and drank again.

"And then there are the monsters." Bishop John seemed to be drinking too much. "For the monsters, the farm is like a kitchen with the smell of rice. The grass-eating and meat-eating monsters like to go there to find food. How to increase the production of the fields, people hope to kill those monsters."

Charles sighed, and Mordred could use it as an example again.

At this moment Bishop John fell asleep with his head on the table.

After Gregor pleaded guilty to Charles and the others, he helped Bishop John back to his room to rest.

The remaining power supremacist Bishop John didn't say, but Charles can also come up with a general idea.

In human society, the vast majority of commoners rely on military merit to become knights to enter the aristocratic class, and only a very small number of people rely on superb sewing, forging and other craftsmanship. .

It is unheard of for thousands of years to be knighted by increasing grain production. Philip's title of "Great Sage" is an honorary title, not a title.

In this case, the pursuit of agricultural production is reduced to a minimum.

The forging temple is better. Although their technological development has touched the ceiling, the weapons they make are just needed, so life is not bad.

However, many believers of forging temples simply failed to detect the development crisis that was concealed by the massive demand for weapons.

Gregor returned shortly after. "Two guests, the rest room is ready."

Then Charles was a little embarrassed, and Gregor only gave them two rooms with only one bed.

Although there are still many vacant rooms, "Sorry, we only have one set of bedding left here." Gregor said.

Seeing that there was no strange expression on Artoria's face in the light of the candles in the room, Charles gave up his plan to take out the spare quilt from his storage ring.

The moon is sparse, and the birds that come out for food at night "coocooo" on the trees.

Arturia felt Charles tossing and turning behind her, so she turned over, and she saw Charles looking at the ceiling with his eyes open.

She asked softly, "what's the matter, can't sleep?"

"Yeah." Charles replied. He originally thought of walking around in the dream just now, but because of something in his heart, he logged out.

"Anything on your mind?" Artoria asked.

Charles hummed again.

"Tell me?" Arturia said softly.

Charles organized his own language and said, "Agriculture is fundamental, why doesn't everyone pay attention to it?"

Arturia reached out and touched Charles' head, saying: "Philip once said that the world is sick. Agriculture and industry should be the primary and secondary industries, but the world has become less and less for thousands of years. We have paid attention to these two industries. Together, the Temple of Harvest and the Temple of Forging have also begun to decline. You have seen the current appearance of the Temple of Harvest, and the main believers of the Temple of Forging are only dwarves."

A flash of light flashed in Charles' mind, and a conjecture appeared in his mind.

"What's the matter?" Arturia noticed something strange about Charles.

"It's okay." Charles changed the subject. "I just talked about genetics, don't you think Mordred looks too much like you?"

Arturia pinched Charles' face, and said grimly, "What do you want to say?"

Charles replied wisely and wisely: "I don't mean that Mordred is your descendant, I mean that her ancestors are likely to be the same as you."

"I thought about it too, because she has a taste of people like us." Arturia nodded, "Maybe they didn't join the war, but went into hiding."

At this time, Charles smiled "hehe" and asked, "Are you planning to add a brother or sister to Mordred?"

In the end, Arturia said "hehe" twice, "Why, do you want to help?"

Charles found that he seemed to have stepped on a landmine~www.novelmt.com~ and changed the subject, "Is there no one who has attracted your heart for so many years? I think Philip was also a talent back then."

"The way he looked at me was always obedient." Arturia said, "He looked at me like he was looking at his granddaughter."

Then Charles felt a murderous aura, and Arturia said, "And, do you know what Philip did to me?"

Charles shook his head.

Arturia said angrily: "He let someone dig a hole and let me go down."

Charles waited for a long time, but did not wait for the following. So he asked, "Does he plan to plant you in the ground in spring, and then harvest a bunch of you in autumn?"

At this time, Arturia hugged Charles, "Don't talk about that, it's too bad. Go to sleep, do you want me to sing a lullaby to you like I put Mordred to sleep?"

Charles nodded subconsciously.