Chapter 84: The Disbandment of the Defense Corps and the Autumn Harvest Grain Reserves of Lake Starwish

At that moment, the curtain was lifted, and Brian led Weilin into the tent.

"Weilin, come, sit down quickly. You’ve really made a name for yourself this time, even earning the title ‘Child of Frost,’" said Alcott, rising to greet him.

"The fledgling hawk is spreading his wings. The battle merits you’ve achieved are almost catching up to mine," Edgar also stood, praising Weilin.

Weilin replied somewhat awkwardly, "Uncles, please, don’t mention that title—it’s really embarrassing."

They all laughed. "Come, sit."

The four of them gathered around the low wooden table, which was laden with all kinds of food and fine wine, waiting to be enjoyed.

"Come, let’s have a drink to celebrate surviving this ordeal," Brian proposed.

The four lifted their bowls and downed their wine together.

After some idle conversation, Alcott turned to Weilin, gratitude in his eyes. "Weilin, the three of us owe you our thanks. If not for your letter, we would have suffered heavy losses this time—perhaps even irreparable damage."

Weilin replied humbly, "Uncle, even without my warning to stockpile grain, wasn’t there still the kingdom’s relief grain?"

"Weilin, you’re still too young," Edgar shook his head. "Relief grain also costs money."

"You mean the kingdom’s aid grain for the west—we still have to pay for that?" Weilin asked, puzzled.

Alcott revealed the truth, "If you don’t pay, the grain might just vanish halfway here."

Weilin looked at his cousin Brian in disbelief. Even the usually honest Brian was uncharacteristically silent.

"There are too many interests entangled here—best not to discuss it further. But you’ve done the three of us a great favor. If you ever need anything within our power, just ask," Alcott said, raising his bowl to Weilin.

Weilin clinked bowls with the three, draining it in one go, and half-joked, "Uncles, cousin, it’s settled then. You can’t refuse me in the future."

They all laughed. "If you ever have trouble, just come to us," Edgar said, giving Weilin’s shoulder an affectionate pat.

Surrounded by such family, Weilin felt at peace and warmly reassured.

The night’s drinking ended, and Weilin made his way back to his tent, sleeping soundly until dawn.

As soon as he awoke, Kael entered carrying hot water and a towel, respectfully saying, "My lord, please wash up."

"Kael," Weilin said after tidying himself up. "After we return, do you want to stay by my side, or would you rather lead troops?"

"I wish to remain by your side, my lord," Kael replied without hesitation.

Weilin looked at him seriously and asked again, "Think carefully—taking command in the field brings greater glory, wider recognition, and real power. Staying with me, you’ll have none of that."

"My lord, I am willing to follow and serve you to the end of my days," Kael suddenly knelt before Weilin, his voice unwavering.

Weilin regarded the young man, once a serf, with complicated feelings. In Kael’s position, he would have chosen the path of glory.

"Rise. From now on, I entrust my back to you," Weilin said.

"Yes, my lord," Kael answered with a smile, as if he had received the greatest honor.

Three days later, the defense army was disbanded, and the nobles returned to their lands.

On the journey home, the landscape on both sides of the road was almost entirely in ruins—rivers dried up, land parched. When they had come, there were still a few frontier settlements that had survived the last monster attack. Now all had vanished.

Five days later, Weilin returned to Lake Starfall.

Though the scenery inside Lake Starfall was somewhat similar to the outside, it was vibrant—there was no sign of decay or desolation.

Moreover, Weilin noticed a significant increase in population within his domain, puzzling him. Had Medmonch already delivered the ten thousand settlers?

At that moment, Beld came forward with his men, greeting Weilin with excitement, "Welcome home, my lord, to your loyal domain."

"Beld, has someone brought settlers here?" Weilin dismounted and asked.

Beld looked puzzled but answered truthfully, "My lord, the additional population at Lake Starfall was exchanged for with grain. In addition, we sold five million jin of grain to other nobles, bringing in nearly fifty thousand gold coins."

"Wha…what?" Weilin stared at Beld in astonishment.

Ten minutes later, after Beld’s patient explanation, Weilin’s head was spinning.

He had bought the grain as emergency reserves for disaster, but the three thousand square kilometers around Lake Starfall were unaffected by the famine ritual. As a result, the twenty-two million jin of grain he had spent all his money on became highly sought-after hard currency.

Furthermore, Weilin and a few other nobles had been buying up grain on a large scale. When disaster struck, nearly all neighboring nobles were short of grain and had to buy at triple the original price, earning him a fortune without even realizing it.

"By the way, my lord, here are this autumn’s accounts for your review," Beld said.

Weilin took the ledger and opened it.

Under Beld’s management, the domain included one town and three villages, totaling 6,500 people—2,000 of whom had been brought in by exchanging grain, and another 1,000 were recent migrants who had come of their own accord.

There were 40,000 mu of arable land, of which 20,000 mu were taxed. Ten thousand mu of tax land grew yam beans, six thousand mu grew root vegetables, and four thousand mu grew wheat. The total harvest came to four million jin of yam beans, 1.2 million jin of root vegetables, and six hundred thousand jin of wheat—a total grain harvest of 5.8 million jin.

With the provision of two mu of taxed land as rations for each soldier, 700 soldiers and officers were allocated three hundred thousand jin of yam beans and one hundred fifty thousand jin of root vegetables.

After all deductions, Beld still held seventeen million jin of grain.

This didn’t even include the expansion town under Orlando’s charge, which was estimated to yield another two million jin.

Thinking of this, Weilin breathed a sigh of relief and said to Beld, "Don’t sell any more grain. In a while, ten thousand settlers will be arriving at Lake Starfall. Think carefully about how to accommodate them—whether to continue expanding north or divert some to Orlando’s area. The decision is yours."

"Rest assured, my lord, I will handle it," Beld replied.

The day after his return, Weilin personally held a funeral for the fallen soldiers, burying them in the military cemetery established three kilometers from Starfall Town.

Afterward, life resumed its efficient rhythm, with training continuing in earnest as Weilin strove to break through the next stage and advance to Silver Intermediate.