When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

"Quick, move quickly, they're distributing land in the city."

"Brother, are they really distributing it?"

"Yes, they are." A farmer in short clothing beamed joyously, shaking the land deed in his hand to his friend, "Not only do they distribute it, but any floating people and public register farmers can also be upgraded to armed farmers."

"I'll go right away!"

"Don't rush, first let's go find the wandering priest and gather those on the household register and those entitled to land."

Initially, other nearby farmers, having heard about the Blue Blood incident and the beheading of the Duke, were too scared to go forward. Especially those villagers who returned after fleeing, saying Joan of Arc Castle was a bloodbath, made others even more afraid to go.

But upon hearing that they could actually get land, it was a different story.

On the roadside outside Joan of Arc Castle, a long convoy in waves carried the first group of people, totaling five thousand, heading towards the direction of the Wild Spider Forest.

By the roadside, bodies like those of Zandebeck, Dane, and Buerwelf were hung in a row, allowing passing vagrants and citizens to stab them, with labels like devil, monster, and demon hung on them.

In parallel with the convoy was a long line of vagrants from nearby villages, moving in the opposite direction to the gallows outside the city.

The overcast daylight slanted over the heads of monks by the Mediterranean, reflecting a matte sheen.

Nearly a hundred monks, accountants, and notaries were sweating as they quickly copied and transcribed new land deeds, while about a dozen holy gunmen stood menacingly behind them.

These land deeds were engraved and printed overnight. After the printing industry oligarch was taken to the West Ice Cellar to gnaw on turnips by the Cheka, the printers became more agreeable.

The printers engraved standard land deed molds overnight, or more accurately, revised the original standard land deeds, and printed a large quantity overnight.

Now the task of these monks and accountants was to confirm the identity and share of those receiving the land according to the household register and tax records, then sign and stamp fingerprints.

This was the order given by Horn yesterday, figuring that with two days' time, apart from buying supplies they'd be idle anyway, so they might as well distribute the land.

Horn wasn't indiscriminate in distributing the land; otherwise, if non-productive people fraudulently claimed land and became middlemen or squeezed other farmers, it wouldn't be good.

He implemented the policy of land to the tiller, which was achievable thanks to the Church.

Even though the vagrants weren't from Joan of Arc Castle, the Church treated everyone equally. As long as you farmed, regardless of being human or dog, you had to pay taxes.

The Duke's properties outside the city mostly existed in the form of estates, where hired income was mainly in currency, supplemented with grain.

Since currency taxes were easier to count, who farmed which field and how much tax needed to be paid were clearly recorded in the household register.

Horn didn't give them more land; instead, he transferred the land ownership to the actual cultivators, turning hired farmers into actual landowners.

It was a transition from working for the lord to working for oneself.

In the Church and Duke's properties, land was divided into private fields and public fields.

Private fields were those the Duke leased to farmers, taxing them in currency or produce based on the cultivated area, and after tax, the remaining yield was theirs.

Public fields required farmers to perform labor, with all output belonging to the lord, akin to a labor rent.

Horn only distributed private fields, while public fields, comprising over a third of the land, still hadn't been distributed.

The first batch to receive private fields were Salvation Army members; even if you arrived first, Salvation Army members had to go first before it was anyone else's turn.

Salvation Army families had priority not only in land distribution, but also the families of those killed would receive an additional twenty acres of public fields and 5 gold pounds.

All land proclaimed to be remotely controlled before, by those killed in battle in the old base, was properly distributed, recorded in the household register and land deeds not as armed farmers or public register farmers, but as priests.

Understand that priests had partial tax exemption privileges, equating to a priest of equal status, exempting land tax below forty acres.

"If only I had braved it last night and gone." A farmer lamented to his companion, "If I could become like a priest, I can't even imagine how great life would be."

"Aren't you afraid of the decrees coming to kill us?"

"What's there to be afraid of? Didn't you hear Bishop Richelieu say? Duchess Hemashi wrote a letter to protect us; as long as the Salvation Army leaves, they won't do anything to us."

"So are you going to leave with the Salvation Army?"

"Tsk, do you know how much a Salvation Army soldier earns?"

"I don't know, a weekly salary of 2 Dinars?"

"2 Dinars weekly? It's 4 Dinars daily! The Salvation Army's official decree company pays a monthly salary of 1 gold pound, more than what artisans earn. Can you earn a gold pound from farming for a year?"

"Really?" An eavesdropping armed farmer who was squatting stood up completely.

Keep in mind, on the Empire's mercenary market, the average infantry daily wage ranged from half a Dinar to two Dinars.

Horn paid the Salvation Army's official decree company salaries two to four times the normal mercenary rate!

After killing the Duke and defeating the Church, due to blocked routes, the taxes of the Duke and Church couldn't be transported, leaving Horn with nearly 50,000 gold pounds.

And this comes even after spending a considerable sum on purchasing various supplies.

Considering his future new legion of 6,000 people, at three months' time that's 18,000 gold pounds, which Horn could afford.

"Can I go?" The armed farmer anxiously asked.

The farmer regretfully said, "Only the Salvation Army can go. After killing the Duke the night before last, they spent an entire day registering members, so if you're not on the list, there's no chance now."

"If only I had known, I would've gone to kill the Duke too."

"Do you have the guts?"

"Why not?" The farmer gritted his teeth looking at the hanging Duke, "What wrong have we ever done to be treated like this?"

"In this world, is any noble different? The Saint's Grandson wasn't wrong when he said it - nobles really are devils."

"Say a little less."

"If I hadn't overslept last night, I would've..."

"You didn't oversleep, didn't you make an excuse to pee and run halfway?"

"As if you didn't run."

No longer bothering with the floating people's public farmers, the armed farmer shouted towards Armand, who was preaching about the Saint's Grandson on the gallows, "Bishop Richelieu, how do we lease the public fields?"

Taking advantage of the power vacuum during the handover between the Salvation Army and the decree company, these armed farmers still wanted to take advantage of the Salvation Army's unfamiliarity with the situation to fish for more benefits in troubled waters.

"Public fields won't be leased in the future; we will send direct personnel to manage them, so don't try to play tricks, we'll be back soon." Armand said bluntly, ignoring the displeased looks of the armed farmers.

"Faithful citizens, you are lucky to be able to receive private fields, and once we leave tomorrow, there won't be any more distributions." Armand stood in front of the gallows, shouting hoarsely.

Someone in the crowd exclaimed, "Bishop Richelieu, isn't this the Church and Duke's property? Isn't there a problem with distributing it to us?"

"Wrong! This isn't the Duke's property, the Duke was a devil, and his property was ill-gotten gains. We eradicated the devil, so all the ill-gotten gains belong to us, isn't that a normal thing?"

Armand declared righteously, "And the Church is even simpler; Buerwelf was also a devil.

Our Saint's Grandson is Miseria's son, so what's wrong with our Saint's Grandson managing the Church's property himself?

As for distributing it to you, it's just natural, as per the Holy Treasury system, everyone should have land for communal farming.

Not everything can be perfect, we can't guarantee that everyone will have land for communal farming, but I can at least promise that most of you will have a full meal.

Don't you want a good lord? Well, now all land belongs to Saint Master Miseria, and your direct lord is Miseria, isn't that good?"

"Huh?" Expressions of contemplation appeared on the farmers' faces, but thinking carefully about Armand's words, it didn't seem wrong.

The Saint's Grandson made some sense, and as everyone became Miseria's direct hired farmers, there wasn't a reason for knights to deprive them.

An imperceptible smile appeared on Armand's face, as this kind of vague acknowledgment marked the beginning of a change in recognition unknowingly.

"The public fields will become collective farms, managed by members within the Salvation Army. The income from these public fields will be used for hospitals, schools, and almshouses.

All Salvation Army members can enjoy low-cost treatment and medicine at hospitals, the family members of soldiers can attend schools without tuition fees, and the almshouses will be open to the elderly and orphans in need..."

Looking at the villagers' expressions, Armand continued to paint a grand vision according to Horn's instructions.

"We will abolish the distinction between armed farmers and public register farmers, abolish the armed farmer's shield tax and conscription, and abolish the 'Runaway Slave Law' and 'Labor Law.' Trust us, better days are ahead!"