Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest-Chapter 69 - 3 Holy Salt

69: Chapter 3: Holy Salt

69 -3: Holy Salt

“Gwivelle, come here,”

Roman beckoned to Gwivelle from afar. novelbuddy.cσ๓

Gwivelle lifted her head from the vegetable field.

Hearing that familiar voice, she immediately dropped the farming tool in her hand.

She ran all the way to Roman’s side.

Being able to eat milk, eggs, and a variety of meats and vegetables every day, she got sufficient nutrition, and her severely depleted body gradually recovered.

Flesh began to grow on her previously gaunt face, finally giving her a girlish look, much to Roman’s satisfaction.

It felt like nurturing her.

Because she had run over hastily, Gwivelle’s face was a bit red, and there were dirty traces of mud on her body.

She panted, looking up at Roman with a slightly puzzled expression.

“Master Roman, do you have orders for me?”

Roman, because he was building an animal shed, hadn’t let her continue to follow him.

It was fine when chopping down trees, but if the beams that had been so difficult to set up were to collapse, it would cause a significant delay.

This was something Roman couldn’t accept.

So, he sent Gwivelle to work in the vegetable garden to the north.

The unlucky girl was initially very dismayed, but soon she no longer had the time to feel dejected.

She devoted herself wholeheartedly to the ten acres of land, taking care of it like a little farmer’s wife every day, and she spread nutritious soil all over the place.

Roman reached out and smoothed Gwivelle’s disheveled hair, tucking it behind her ears, then slipped a sachet over her head to hang around her neck.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Roman observed Gwivelle’s expression.

Gwivelle looked at the sachet and said, curiously, “There’s nothing special…”

As she spoke, her eyes suddenly widened, and she gasped.

She realized that the strange secret power that had clung to her like a curse, affecting everything around her for the past two years, had suddenly diminished significantly.

Gwivelle was greatly surprised.

She asked curiously, “Master Roman, what is this?”

Seeing her reaction, Roman knew the sachet was effective, and said, “It contains Holy Salt.”

Gwivelle feigned a pitiable tone, “Master Roman, are you going to burn me at the stake?”

Roman was speechless and tapped her head with his finger.

“When did you start picking up bad habits from Green?”

Gwivelle denied, “Grandpa Galin said the Church Court sprinkles salt on witches.

This kind of salt is purified by All Gods, can dispel the evil demon’s magic, making them in so much pain they wish to die, and then they burn them.”

Roman laughed, “It’s just that Magic Stones were added during the refining process.

It has nothing to do with All Gods.

How do you feel?”

Gwivelle shook her head, “I don’t feel anything.”

Roman wasn’t surprised by this outcome.

Salt naturally counters mana and can disrupt some charlatan’s tricks.

But that’s all there is to it.

Like wood catching flame, salt can extinguish the fire, but the wood itself remains unharmed.

Comparatively, the effect of Holy Salt is much stronger, it can directly quell most witches’ spells and even cause them physiological pain.

Only, the community of witches has always been mysterious, and Gwivelle, clearly not a typical witch, was unaffected, which was not surprising.

In fact, two years ago, when Gwivelle’s power was exposed, her mother heartlessly sold the family’s sheep and bought two pounds of salt from a merchant to put on her.

But this method clearly didn’t control her power.

“Since it can suppress your power, you might as well keep it,”

“Is it a gift for me?” Gwivelle’s tone suddenly became cheerful, her face full of joy.

Roman lifted his chin and hummed lightly, “Then it’s a gift for you, just don’t eat all the Holy Salt.

It was quite a hassle to make those fools produce it.”

Gwivelle’s eyes squinted with delight, “Thank you, Master Roman.

I will keep it safe and will never eat it,” she promised softly.

“Now that the Holy Salt can suppress your power, you can interact with others.

Don’t stay here tomorrow.

Go and learn numbers and letters from Hans and Geman…”

“Oh.” Gwivelle was a bit disappointed.

She had thought she would continue to follow Roman, but instead, she heard this.

She wasn’t averse to Roman’s orders and knew nothing about learning so she accepted his instructions in confusion.

“If you feel uncomfortable, just take it off.”

Roman touched her head, signaling that she could leave.

Gwivelle left with light steps, like a cheerful little bird spreading its wings and flying toward the vegetable patch.

Then she slipped, landing with her bottom in the air in a crouched position.

Fortunately, the grass was soft and did not injure her; Gwivelle stood up, dusted off her bottom, and continued to take off from where she was.

“This unlucky girl…”

…

[Level 2 Construction: 139380]

Roman had spent half a month building a livestock shed, earning a significant amount of Experience Points.

He finally had the confidence to build a lime kiln.

In these days, Roman had organized the labor at the quarry to mine a large amount of limestone and gravel.

However, the burning efficiency was far from ideal.

With pure, dry, and hard burning, the output couldn’t meet Roman’s demand for lime.

After all, he needed to reinforce a 40-kilometer long road.

Roman had no choice but to build a mud kiln to improve production efficiency.

Even a simple mud kiln was not easy to build.

Roman, along with about a hundred people, toiled in the mud for a full five days—the sight of which could make Seth go dark-eyed.

But Roman didn’t care, supervising the progress and quality throughout, tightly controlling everyone’s actions.

He finally built a small lime vertical kiln with adobe and rocks, and although it could only produce about ten tons of limestone per cycle, it was still a qualitative improvement.

…

It was on the 63rd day.

Roman received news that Morry had come to Sige Town again.

He arranged for the workforce to conduct the first calcination, stuffing over a thousand pounds of wood in the bottom while the limestone was on top; just the lighting process would take several hours.

Without even changing his clothes, Roman hurried to the dock amid Seth’s nagging, to meet Morry.

The latter was also startled by the sight of Roman, covered in mud.

Though he had weathered many storms, he had never seen a noble in such a state.

Fortunately, Morry remained calm and composed, showing no surprise.

“I’ve brought you 20 oxen and 32 horses for plowing this time.”

Roman was unimpressed and anxiously inquired, “What about the iron I requested?”

Morry understood Roman’s urgency.

Last time he went to the Salt Mine, seeing most miners using farming tools, wood, and stone to extract salt, his expression was indescribable.

He knew that Roman, in order to cast heavy plows, had exhausted all the iron ingot stocks of Sige Town.

Since Morry had not seen the effect of the heavy plows, he naturally had little sense of their practicality.

Morry said, “I have a thousand pounds of iron ingots on my ship right now.”

Roman knew that Morry was the son of a great merchant, a status that meant Morry had extensive connections, capable of engaging even with some influential nobles.

He immediately nodded and said, “You’ve done well, I won’t let you down.”

A thousand pounds of iron for the entire Sige Town construction was just a drop in the ocean.

But for Roman, it was a critical relief.

It meant that he could forge steel tools, which would be of great help in salt extraction, quarrying, logging, and road repair.

Roman did not give Morry cash.

He was out of money.

With a grand gesture, he increased his exclusive discount from 200,000 pounds of salt to 300,000 pounds of salt, enough to last him until next year.