Chapter 79

With Gervas’s instructions, Mi Gen was utterly baffled.

But seeing how seriously Gervas took it, he dared not slack off.

“Yes, my lord, I’ll inform Magistrate Thomas right away!”

“Remember—hurry!”

Mi Gen hurried off, and Lei Meng finally asked curiously, “My lord, is this arrangement for Milson the Druid?”

“Exactly! Since normal methods won’t work, we’ll use a little trick—this time, we’re taking the Storm Lord’s territory for sure!”

Lei Meng was stunned, watching his lord’s smug satisfaction—he simply couldn’t understand why his lord was so confident.

But as a subordinate, he certainly wouldn’t undermine him now.

Soon, Thomas, having received the order, arranged for a cart to pass before the town square.

At that moment, Milson had just finished his black bread and was preparing to leave the Storm Lord’s territory.

“Do you really think the stuff on this cart can double next year’s grain yield for our Storm Lord’s land?”

“That’s impossible! I heard it’s bird droppings—and I can smell it; it’s utterly revolting. How could bird droppings double crop yields?”

“Yeah, I heard the lord plans to bury all this bird dung in the fields. What if it kills the crops outright? Sigh…”

“Keep your voices down! Do you want to die? And hurry up! The magistrate is waiting—this dung must be used now, or you’ll get whipped!”

The serfs and the cart passed through the square; though they’d gone far, the stench of the droppings still clung sharply in the air.

Milson, who had been about to leave, froze in place, his face twisted in conflict.

Using feces to fertilize crops was a desecration of nature itself.

Of course, a Druid’s heart, attuned to nature, would never voice such a judgment.

The God of Nature was merciful, unassuming—unlike certain churches, which branded those who desecrated doctrine as heretics and ruthlessly eradicated them.

Yet while Milson didn’t care about their desecration of nature, he cared deeply for the poor serfs.

He recalled the sparse crops he’d seen outside the town—if this lord ruined them further, half the serfs in the Storm Lord’s territory would starve this year.

Out of compassion for the serfs, Milson could not turn away.

“Sigh!” Milson finally chased after the cart ahead.

“My lord, the Druid you ordered monitored is heading this way!”

“Good!”

Upon receiving Yefulan’s report, Gervas broke into a delighted smile—since the Druid had followed, his plan had succeeded.

Thomas proceeded with the normal process of fertilizing the serfs, while Gervas rested in the shade of a nearby tree.

Soon, Milson appeared beside the fields, watching as vast quantities of bird droppings were splashed onto the soil—he rushed forward to stop them.

“Magistrate, I am Milson, a Druid. These droppings won’t speed crop growth—they’ll cause the crops to wither! Please stop this!”

The fact that feces cause plants to wither had long been proven by Druids.

The clearest evidence? Visit any chicken or duck farm—you’ll find the vegetation nearly vanished, leaving only bare, dung-covered earth.

It wasn’t eaten away—it was poisoned by their droppings.

“Druid, this is the lord’s order—we must obey!” Thomas spoke with deep respect, yet showed no intention of stopping.

Seeing more crops threatened, Milson turned to Gervas nearby.

“Huh? Druid Milson, what are you doing here?” Gervas noticed him, feigning surprise.

“Lord Gervas, order your men to stop spreading bird droppings on the fields! It won’t help the crops—it will poison them and cause them to wither!”

“Is that so? But I read in an ancient book that it’s the opposite—it says fertilizing fields with manure doubles harvests, even surpassing crops tended by Druids.”

“Nonsense! Absolute nonsense! Lord Gervas, as a Druid who walks the Chuji Natural Path, I solemnly warn you—this will lead to total crop failure! Stop now!”

Milson was angry—not because the lord compared him to Druids.

But because such a harmful book existed at all—wasn’t this endangering lives?

This concerned hundreds, even thousands of lives!

Gervas frowned, as if offended.

Inside, he was overjoyed.

Anger!

Good—let him rage!

He’s taken the bait!

“Druid Milson, though I deeply respect you as a devout follower of the God of Nature, you cannot deny the wisdom I found in that book.”

“Since you claim the book’s method will wither the crops, let’s test it!”

“How?” Milson sensed nothing amiss.

“I’ve heard Druids possess the power to accelerate crop growth with natural energy. We need only hasten the growth of fertilized and unfertilized crops to see the result!”

“Agreed!” Milson nodded. Though it would drain his natural energy severely, he must save hundreds of serfs.

To correct this misguided noble lord, Milson agreed to the test.

“Druid Milson, let’s make a wager!”

“Gambling? Lord Gervas, Druids never gamble…”

“Lord Milson, that book may have been read by others besides me. If we prove it’s nonsense—”

“I, Gervas, will pay fifty gold coins to send messengers to Iron Wolf City to expose the deadly consequences of manure fertilization—saving more crops and serfs.”

“But if manure fertilization proves effective, you must swear to serve the Storm Lord’s territory for at least ten years!”

Gervas cut off Milson’s protest, presenting a wager Milson could not refuse.

After all, he was certain manure fertilization was false—he could not lose.

And Gervas’s offer to spend fifty gold coins exposing the truth could indeed save many nobles misled by that “evil book.”

“Fine, Lord Gervas—I accept your wager!”

“Then let’s begin!”

Gervas’s heart soared—he immediately led Druid Milson into the fields.

He selected ten wheat stalks total for comparison.

Five fertilized, five unfertilized.

He didn’t choose more because natural energy, though miraculous, drained terribly.

Otherwise, if Druids could accelerate crops on a large scale, famine wouldn’t exist in this world!