God bless, the weather is exceptionally good today.
Simon was walking on the dirt road leading to the farmland outside the village, but he always felt that something was wrong.
"Ah, damn it," Simon slapped his head, "There were too many things last night and I was so busy that I forgot about little Klein! I don't know where this kid went."
Simon felt a little guilty and looked around before remembering that little Klein had said that he had built a small shed in the woods.
At this time, a ragged and dirty villager was walking toward the woods with Mulouzi on his back, apparently to collect firewood.
"Hey! That..." Simon realized that he didn't know his name, "The one carrying the basket, yes, don't look, it's you!"
"Good day, my lord." The woodcutter stopped and looked at Simon, who was walking slowly, with confusion and alertness.
"Do you know where little Klein lives?" Simon looked at this weather-beaten, thin middle-aged man.
"Of course, my master," the firewood collector swallowed, "it's on the third left after entering the village from the north..."
"Stop beating around the bush," Simon waved his hand impatiently, "I have already sworn on my honor to accept him as a servant so that he can have the ability to avenge his father. What are you still hiding here?"
"I'm very sorry, my lord, I remembered it wrong. In fact, he is in the forest. I will show you the way." The woodcutter took off his guard and led Simon on the muddy path leading to the forest.
"What's your name?" Simon asked as he walked.
"My name is Berg, sir."
"Why did you lie just now, or did you remember it wrong?" Simon was a little confused.
"To be honest, sir, little Klein's father was my best friend. Before he died, he asked me to take good care of little Klein. But after losing the house, little Klein had to live in the mountains by himself. My wife's stingy smell My mother-in-law also said she didn’t want little Klein to live in our house,” the woodcutter Berg sighed and continued.
"Everyone in the village thought that little Klein had gone out to wander, or that he might have died in a nook and cranny. So at that time, I and the hunters in the village knew that little Klein had actually been poaching in the mountains."
"What about the hunter? Didn't the hunter go to the tax collector to report little Klein?" Simon asked doubtfully.
"The hunter himself is also a person who hates tax collectors extremely. He had no intention of reporting to tax collectors who were as dirty as boar snot from the beginning. Moreover, little Klein is also sensible. If he catches too many prey, he will give up in the forest. It’s for the hunter, so the hunter likes it very much and cares about little Klein, and even gave him a roll of fur behind the tax collector’s back to keep him warm.”
"How did little Klein survive the winter? Even if he has fur, it's not enough to withstand this terrible cold winter."
"Yes, sir, when the weather got too cold, little Klein went to the hunter's warm hut for help. The hunter's family lived on the edge of the forest, a bit far from the village, and almost no one visited. Later I heard the hunter tell me about little Klein I stayed at his house temporarily, so I sent him a basket of firewood that I had in abundance."
Simon lamented that these villagers were like this, they were cold, cunning and wary towards nobles and strangers. And for the people they recognize in their hearts, they show their simple side.
The two entered the forest, surrounded by beech, oak, birch, pine and chestnut trees. Birds sang happily in this beautiful habitat, a hare popped out of the bushes on one side from time to time, and there was a faint silhouette of a roe deer not far away.
After walking for a while, the woodcutter Berg took Simon off the forest path and walked towards the dense forest on the left side of the road.
After crossing a creek and walking for a while, a small clearing appeared in front of us.
In front of him was a small shed made of thick branches and animal skins. Under the shed was a small hay bed, and little Klein was lying on it, sleeping soundly.
In front of the hay bed was an extinguished bonfire, with a few greasy slender branches scattered around the bonfire. It seemed that little Klein could only eat barbecue without an iron pot.
On the right side of the shed, there was an animal skin held up by a shelf made of tree branches, exuding a stinky smell.
At this time, little Klein, who was sleeping, seemed to hear someone making noises next to the camp. He woke up instantly. He turned over and picked up the small hunting bow and an arrow beside the bed. He pointed the bow at the two people on one side.
"Master Simon, Uncle Berg! Why is it you?" When little Klein saw the person clearly, he quickly lowered the bow in his hand.
"Boy, that's a good reaction, but if someone really wants to take your life, you would have gone to see God by now." Simon looked at Klein with a smile.
"Little Klein, the master said last night that he would accept you as a servant, why did you come back to live in the shed again?" Woodcutter Berg also spoke at this time.
"I saw with my own eyes that damn tax collector being subdued by Master Simon last night, but I saw that Master was also very tired, so I simply stopped causing trouble to Master Simon and slept here for the night." Little Klein said, closing He picked up his hunting bow and inserted the bow and arrow into a small homemade quiver containing only a few bows and arrows.
"Then you pack your things, take a bath in the creek later, and then go to my hunting house to make a small bed." Simon smelled the strong sour smell wafting from little Klein's body, and knew that this child must It's been a long time since I took a shower.
"Okay, sir." Little Klein responded quickly.
Simon was a little surprised. Even before Simon traveled through time, he had heard about Western Europeans' resistance to bathing in the Middle Ages.
In fact, Simon got one thing wrong. People in the Middle Ages began to resist bathing and even regarded bathing as a kind of torture. It was after the large-scale outbreak of the Black Death. Before that, people still had the habit of taking a bath.
The sun gradually rose and the forest became warmer. Woodcutter Berg said goodbye to Simon and little Klein and continued to collect firewood. At this time, little Klein also took a bath.
"Let's go." Little Klein packed up his things and carried a baggage made of animal skins.
"Your little bow was made for you by a hunter? Those arrows were also given to you by him, right?" Simon walked in front, pushing aside the branches of dense shrubs.
"Yes, sir, Uncle Hunter Bill has been very kind to me." Little Klein followed Simon's footsteps.
"Then you learned some archery, hunting, and prey handling skills from him?" Simon said with a smile.
"Of course, my master, Uncle Bill also said that I have the talent to be a little hunter!" Little Klein said proudly.
"Very good, I can give you the right to hunt for me in my territory, so that you can continue to hone your archery skills and bring me fresh food." Simon thought, since little Klein has He might as well continue to cultivate his talent in this area.
"But you must not neglect your training in the future. A knight who can only shoot arrows but cannot dance a sword will be ostracized and despised by others." Simon continued.
"That means I will have the chance to become a knight in the future?" Little Klein asked with great interest and longing.
"In this era of war, everything is possible," Simon turned around and smiled, "But don't think about useless things every day. It is the last word to improve yourself."
The two continued walking forward.
"What is that?" Simon saw something intertwined with yellow, white and scarlet under the tree not far away.
When I got closer, I saw that it was the gnawed carcass of a deer beyond recognition. The white bones were exposed with a small amount of uneaten flesh stuck to them. They were already infested with dense white maggots, and there were some animal feces mixed with fur on one side.
"It's the traces left by wolves!" Little Klein couldn't help but feel a little scared. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he didn't light a campfire one night while camping in the wild and encountered a pack of wolves.
Although wolves usually move at night and are afraid of village fires, they are still a hidden danger in the territory.
"It seems that I have to talk to Hunter Bill about how to eliminate these wolves." Simon said to himself. He kept recalling the memories of his previous life and the owner of his original body, but could not find any knowledge about hunting wolves.
"If we can eliminate this group of wolves, we will have some new wolf skins and eat wolf meat!" Little Klein thought very simply.
As the two walked back to the village from the forest along the path, they happened to meet Elsa holding a large bale of hay in her hand.
"Good day, my Lord Simon," Elsa greeted Simon with a smile, "My father is going to Dorstenburg, and I am getting some fodder for the horses he transports the tax collectors!"
"Let's go together, and pick up a bag of wheat bran from the counting house on the way. The poor draft horse is so thin, and it will definitely not be able to bear dragging the fat tax collector and a strong militiaman anymore. We need to give it more food. Concentrated feed supplement." Simon felt a little sorry for the horse. After all, horses are a valuable asset in this day and age.
"Okay, Master Simon," Elsa said, leaning over and scratching little Klein's nose, "Klein, you're growing up really fast. I haven't seen you for a while and you're a little taller than before!"
"Of course, Sister Elsa, during this time I went to the legendary Giant Kingdom in the north, drank their magical potion, and suddenly I grew a lot taller!" Little Klein also joked. .
"Just brag about it, hahaha!"
The three of them walked talking and laughing.
After Simon took out a bag of wheat bran from the counting house, the three of them walked to the entrance of the village together. At this time, the village chief and a few young men were placing their packed luggage on the trailer behind the packhorse. At the front of the trailer were the tax collector Fox and the militiaman Cairns, who were tied with ropes and sat facing each other.
"Master Simon, we are basically ready. Now there is only a letter left to write. Please come with me to my study." The village chief took the hay from Elsa and put it in the trailer.
"No problem, village chief." Simon put the wheat bran in his hand into the trailer and told little Klein to go to the hunting house to prepare lunch first, and then followed the village chief into the house.
Simon first briefly told the ins and outs of what happened last night, and then listed the evil deeds of the tax collectors in the village.
The village chief dipped his quill in ink, first wrote the title and Simon's full name in red ink, and then dipped it in black ink. Simon said one sentence and the village chief wrote one sentence.
"That's all, sir." The village chief calibrated the letter one last time, rolled it up, and dropped sealing wax.
Simon pushed open the wooden door of the village chief's house and walked out.
When Fox, the tax collector, heard the creaking of the wooden door, he immediately turned his head and looked straight at Simon with his gloomy eyes like a vulture staring at its prey. At this time, he seemed to have returned to his usual arrogance.
"Baby, I won't say much more, let's just wait and see." Fox grinned and showed his weird smile again.
A few young men on one side looked like they wanted to punch or kick the damn tax collector. If it weren't for the noble blood flowing in his body.
After a while, the village chief and his party officially set off. Stopping and watching the group of people retreating on the dirt road, Simon knew that the biggest cancer in Verde Village had also gone away.
"Now we have to think hard about how to increase production in the fields, hunt wolves, train militia, and build defense facilities..." Simon thought, looking at the hunting house on the hill with smoke rising from the stove, and touched his belly. Go forward.
