Chapter 006
* * *
A short while later.
Brisa gathered the knights at the training grounds once again.
The knights, excluding the Potato Squad, gathered sluggishly once more. They had no choice; it was because of Alpheus’s instruction: “Follow Brisa’s orders when I’m away.”
Brisa stood on the podium again and asked:
“Is there anyone among you who is skilled in using Aura?”
At the mention of ‘Aura,’ the knights’ postures straightened. It was clear that a situation requiring them to draw their swords had arisen.
‘This is different from the Potato Squad!’
‘This time, it’s real dangerous work!’
After the war ended, they thought there might never be a reason to fight again. Could it be that a territorial war—something they had only heard about—was about to break out? Everyone tensed up, their muscles bulging with anticipation.
“I am the best among them.”
A large knight stepped forward with long strides and raised his hand. His expression was already determined.
“I will stand at the vanguard.”
Seeing the girl’s seemingly worried face, one after another, they stepped up. Just like not long ago on the battlefield, they were all willing to risk their lives.
“To think I’d have another chance to draw my sword! I will lead the charge at the very front!”
Only then did Brisa show a relieved face.
“Thanks to you, Sirs, it seems the fief will be able to escape this crisis.”
With that, they followed Brisa in a swarm, their faces grim and resolute.
Behind Brisa, the maids were sobbing and crying again. Because Brisa had warned them with a look, they kept their mouths shut, but they couldn’t help the endless tears falling as if the world were ending. It was undoubtedly a major crisis.
The knights intended to show no mercy to whatever enemy awaited them.
However, after they had walked quite a distance following Brisa’s brisk pace…
What unfolded before their eyes was not a mysterious enemy army, but rather olive trees.
“Now.”
Brisa declared solemnly.
“Fell them all. As quickly as possible.”
At that, the maids all collapsed, weeping.
“You can’t, My Lady…”
“This is truly unacceptable…”
Brisa stood in their midst, her arms crossed with grim determination. The Head Maid wailed:
“The First Marquis of Sayers planted olive trees on this land to express his love for his wife. As you know, the First Marchioness of Sayers’ name was Olive Sayers…”
“Yes. That’s why he planted olive trees on the plain closest to the Marquis’s estate,” Brisa replied nonchalantly. “On the spot where carrots and corn were originally planted.”
She then spoke to the Union Head, who had followed her.
“If I provide this much timber, it should be enough not only to repay the existing debt but also to cover two months’ worth of grain, correct?”
In the end, it meant she would cut down the olive trees to pay off the debt. She had even managed to increase the ‘one month’s worth of grain’ to ‘two months.’ Even so, with the increased number of people in the Marquisate, a month’s supply would likely reach the bottom quickly.
The Head Maid sobbed continuously. Since she dared not offer an opposing opinion to her master, she murmured only words that were ‘neither right nor wrong.’
“It is truly a beautiful expression of love…”
Of course, her relentless master did not let it pass.
“That’s an incorrect expression.”
“It’s a warm sentiment that nothing else can replace…”
“That’s a misplaced sentiment.”
“These olive trees feel like a symbol of Sayers’ tranquility…”
“That’s a mistaken feeling.”
However, Lancie was hesitating for a different reason.
‘Isn’t this just a temporary fix?’
The idea itself was fine, but when on earth would they be able to harvest the next batch of olives?
“Um, My Lady,” Lancie spoke up cautiously. “Shouldn’t we, uh, think about this a bit? How long it will take for olive trees to grow back to this size…”
Brisa answered immediately.
“An average of 300 years.”
As Lancie jumped in surprise, Brisa’s words continued.
“The youngest trees are about 200 years old, and those large ones over there are over 500 years old.”
He urgently offered advice, asking if cutting these trees down wasn’t too temporary a measure.
“Then can we only eat Sayers-grown olives 300 years from now?”
He said this without any expectation that his opinion would be accepted. This was because whenever Lancie offered a heated opinion in a crisis, everyone had ignored it. Usually, they didn’t even bother to reply. However, Brisa answered seriously.
“Not exactly. It will take about 20 years for production to stabilize. Fruit harvesting is most active between 50 and 150 years. In that sense, we’ve already passed our prime.”
Hmm? Lancie and the Union Head were speechless at the wealth of knowledge flowing from her.
“Therefore, it’s better to cut them down and plant more appropriate crops on this land.”
“More… appropriate… crops?”
After reflexively questioning her like a fool, Lancie realized something: at some point, he had stopped thinking of Brisa as the ‘spiritual pillar of the maids who talk nonsense.’
The Union Head seemed to feel the same way.
“Usually, lords don’t know much about the crops on their land, you know? At most, they might know the price,” the Union Head whispered. “But this lady is quite something. Actually, based on my knowledge, the age of those olive trees seems roughly correct.”
Brisa continued coldly.
“The decision on which crops to cultivate should be made based on knowledge, not sentiment. Why do you think Sayers olives were of such poor quality? The answer probably lies in what the farmers of long ago planted on this land based on experience.”
She then pulled a small stick from her pocket.
“Olive trees grow well in soil that is between neutral and slightly alkaline.”
As she thrust the stick into the ground, she continued:
“Of course, it could be due to other variables, but considering this was originally a field for carrots and corn…”
As she whispered a small incantation toward the stick, it turned red.
“Just as I thought,” Brisa nodded. “The soil here is slightly acidic.”
Lancie couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying. However, the Union Head’s eyes widened.
“It is a fundamental of agriculture that every soil has its appropriate crops! But what on earth is that stick?”
“A magic tool for measuring acidity and alkalinity… It’s something used during potion-making practice at the Academy. It’s a bit expensive and not easy to come by.”
Lancie realized it. That was undoubtedly one of the ‘supplies’ purchased with the massive debt Brisa had incurred when she went to the Capital Academy two years ago.
“Anyway, in my opinion, other crops will grow much better than olive trees on this land. For example…”
In the meantime, Brisa narrowed her eyes. Beyond the hill, at the end of the winding road, a group of people could be seen approaching. It was Philip and the Potato Squad.
They were pulling carts. The carts were filled to the brim with seed potatoes.
* * *
“You’re going to plant… potatoes here?”
Philip had a bewildered look on his face. He hadn’t expected her to plow over the perfectly fine Olive Plain either.
“I naturally thought you were going to plant these seed potatoes in the backyard or the garden…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. The maids had begun to protest with fierce eyes.
“Planting potatoes in the backyard?”
“My heavens, potato flowers blooming in the Marquis’s garden? Not pansies? Do you think that makes any sense?”
“Absolutely not! The garden is the face of the mansion! It’s no place for something like potatoes!”
The ‘Aura Squad’ who had been felling trees overheard a few words from afar and chimed in.
“Right! The Potato Squad cannot be the face of the knights!”
“They look too much like potatoes!”
The Potato Squad was dumbfounded and simply nodded.
“O-okay… W-we get it…”
Brisa didn’t take the Potato Squad’s side either.
“The backyard has another use.”
In that manner, Brisa proceeded steadily with the felling of the olive trees. And the Potato Squad began loading the timber onto the carts they had used to transport the seed potatoes.
