Warhammer Divine Throne-Chapter 668 - 295, The Poor_2

"Go rest now, you'll feel better once you're asleep." The old mother silently shook her head.

They couldn't eat any more; they really couldn't eat any more.

Remon didn't say anything further. He had to perform his labor service the next day, so the family extinguished the hearth fire and went to bed early.

......

The old mother lay in bed, unable to sleep for a long time.

Ever since her husband died in the Knightly War five years ago, their family's life had gotten worse and worse. They used to barely keep food in their bellies, but now they intermittently faced hunger. Whenever there was a gap between harvests, their home frequently ran out of food.

And worse was yet to come.

The Knightly War five years ago was reportedly a great victory, yet not a single knight or soldier from the Leonais Duchy returned. The public security worsened, with bandits and robbers appearing everywhere. Occasionally, a few Beastman Tribes would also come out to scavenge for winter food.

The robbers, bandits, and Beastmen gradually left the forest and began to harass the villages near the woods. Due to the poor harvest, the already fragile peace suffered a severe blow, and the reduced-defense army was transferred to the vicinity of cities and noble estates, ensuring the safety of the Lord's property while leaving the poor and defenseless peasants to fend for themselves.

The robbers and bandits always stormed into the villages, searching for anything of value. Their favorite targets were the elder's homes and the small village taverns. The elder's house contained shiny coins, while the taverns stored food and ale.

If the peasants resisted, they would be killed. If they chose to flee, most would starve or be hunted down in the wild. If they did nothing... they would lose their rations and ultimately still face death.

Several villages met tragic fates.

The incomes of the noble lords decreased, but their earnings could not diminish. Their lavish banquets, high expenses, and the education of their family scions required substantial funds, and they certainly wouldn't cover these costs themselves. Eventually, the burden would fall back onto the peasants.

Thus, aside from the heavy taxes, the peasants' rations were also seized. The tax collectors taught the peasants the grand principles of "this will make the Kingdom better" while ruthlessly taking away most of their rations.

Did the Kingdom really become better? The old mother didn't know. She only knew that life was getting worse. The tax collectors visited more frequently, demanding more each time. They might have already set their sights on the seed grains.

At this moment, there was a faint noise in the quiet room.

The cold wind blew against the wooden windows, making a howling noise, significantly affecting the old mother's hearing. But she had lived in this house for decades, and no sound could escape her notice.

Remon had quietly gotten up. The peasant dragged his weary body, secretly rising in the darkness. The eldest son swallowed forcefully, as his stomach growled.

He was too hungry.

The old mother remained silent, her eyes filled with tears, trying hard to cover her mouth and prevent herself from making any sound.

"Rustle~" She heard the sound of Remon rummaging through the bread basket and the sound of the knife for slicing bread being taken down from the wall.

Then came the delicate sound of chewing, a noise meant to be drowned out by the wind, but for some reason, the old mother found it unmistakably clear.

"Remon, what's wrong? Did something happen?" The old mother finally decided to speak, choking back her words: "Why are you up?"

"Ding!" The knife fell to the ground.

"I...I heard some wind...just checking...whether the windows were tightly closed." Remon was noticeably startled by his mother's voice, with a tremor of fear in his tone: "Recently, the village...food supplies are scarce, I'm worried someone might come to steal...steal food."

The son lied to himself, and just as he lied to Remon.

"If it's nothing, go to bed early, you have labor service tomorrow." The old mother's voice was filled with sobs, tears streaming down her wrinkled face.

"Mother!" Remon knew his mother had discovered his bread theft. The peasant sobbed: "I'm sorry, mother, I'm just so hungry."

"I know, I know." The old mother also wept: "How are we going to live like this? The food is nearly gone, and your brother is still starving."

"We farm, yet the food is theirs. We hunt, yet the prey is theirs. We fish, even the catch is theirs. Mother, today while laboring, Alan's father was crushed to death by a log because he was too weak from hunger. We can't continue living this way!"

"Ah! Alan's father died? He was only thirty-five. Alan lost his mother early; how will he go on now? He..."

After much thought, Remon finally made up his mind: "Mother, let's escape. Take Thomas, the three of us will run, run far away. If we don't flee, we'll starve to death like this anyway. I overheard the Master Knight's steward instructing that this year's winter wheat taxes will increase!"

"Ah? Increased taxes?" The sudden bad news nearly left the old mother breathless; how could the Lord increase taxes when even their rations were mostly being confiscated?!

"Yes, this year's poor harvest means the Lord might lose a substantial amount of income, so the steward and tax officer plan to increase taxes because the tasks the Lord left must be completed." Remon hesitated again but told his mother: "Mother, there's no hope living like this. Even if the winter wheat yields, it won't belong to us. Not only will it not be ours, but we also won't know where to find more food to satisfy those greedy tax officers." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

The dark room felt like a black hand, gripping the throats of the impoverished family, stifling their breaths.

Previously, even without food at home, peasants could gather berries in the forest or try hunting. There was a clear decree that peasants could hunt rabbits and birds, and while berries were technically the Lord's property, most Lords turned a blind eye. Life was still manageable.

But now, with the security so poor, how could peasants dare enter the forest? They might find one or two days' worth of food if lucky, but if unlucky, they would never return.

"Escape? We'll be executed if caught! The Master Knight will hang us!" The old mother hesitated: "It's too dangerous, Remon. How could we escape?"

"...Everyone is very hungry, many people are very hungry.

Many young men like me, strong, who know how to use pitchforks and hoes, mother." Remon hesitated for a moment but decided to speak: "Many young men have nothing left...the Master Knight's home has food, plenty of it; many want a full meal—they can smell the smoked meat and butter—they don't care anymore, mother. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Are you saying they're planning to..." The old mother gasped, her mouth agape.

"Yes, that's why there's a chance. We can escape. The steward's attention will be on those young men, and nobody will watch us. We can flee, anywhere is better than starving to death. Rake next door agreed with us, tomorrow evening, those young men will storm into the Master Knight's house for food, and we can seize the chance to escape." Remon panted heavily: "Mother, I have you and my brother; I can't follow those young men into a riot, or you'd suffer because of me. We can't just do nothing; let's run, mother!"

"Become runaway slaves...runaway slaves." The old mother muttered.

"Mother! If we do nothing, we'll starve! I can't lose you and my brother. Tomorrow night, we'll flee the opposite way; we can make it. Tomorrow, pack your things, boil water, make a meal, let the whole family eat well, and we'll run!"

"Alright...alright then."

......

The following evening, a long-brewing revolt finally ignited in the village.