I Have a Task Log

Chapter 474: Chapter 473: The Land of the North

As far as the eye could see, the land was a boundless, flat expanse. The horizon stretched out straight toward the sky, broken only by the World’s Roof to the north and the Sunset Mountain Range to the east.

The land was dotted with patches of farmland growing rye and barley. The dirt paths separating these fields were sparsely populated with pedestrians—farmers shouldering their tools and merchants guiding their donkeys.

It was now the harvest season.

The farmers had a clear division of labor. Some swung scythes to reap the grain, others called out as they bundled the sheaves, and still others drove oxcarts, hauling the harvest to the granaries.

The ridges between fields were piled with hay, turnips, and cabbages. The outskirts of the villages were covered with newly harvested grain and flax, laid out to dry.

Beyond the fields, the landscape was dotted with small forests, villages of log cabins, and tall structures built from stone blocks.

Plumes of cooking smoke rose into the air, giving the scene an inexplicable sense of coziness.

Rivers rushed down from the mountains, crisscrossing the land. The wider ones carried passing boats, but even the smaller streams served a purpose, nurturing the surrounding villages and breathing life into the plains.

Although he couldn’t see it from here, Colin knew that these rivers would eventually merge into the North River, finally flowing into the sea at Mokevic.

"Thank the gods, we’re finally out," Dorn complained. "I really don’t know how those Shield Dwarves live on those snow-covered high mountains. Just looking at them makes me feel like my beard is going to freeze off."

"Are we out already?" Orelia blinked, looking a bit dazed. "Oh, phew. We’re finally out."

They weren’t exaggerating.

Colin, feeling utterly exhausted, also let out a soft sigh.

The days spent traveling through the Supreme Forest were hardly comfortable.

Aside from the boredom, the temperature inside the forest was fairly stable, making the climate similar to that of the southern forests: humid and sweltering. The oppressive heat was palpable even when on the move.

This resulted in terribly annoying insects and mosquitos, which explained the presence of creatures like shipworms within the forest.

Some people with weaker constitutions might contract a strange illness when walking through the woods.

This was no empty threat; a few people in the caravan had indeed come down with a cold-like illness.

Thankfully, with Orelia and a few Druids on hand, the illnesses were treated successfully before they could become dangerous.

Ale took out her small notebook and looked at Colin, asking curiously, "Have you traveled here before, Colin? How do the people here live?"

"Actually, there happens to be a born-and-bred local right here," Albert said with a smile, pointing to himself.

The anticipation on Ale’s face vanished. She said expressionlessly, "Oh. Go ahead, then."

"Well... why don’t you go ahead, Colin."

’Do these guys have to pass the buck even when they’re just chatting?’

With that thought, Colin sighed and began to explain. "This land only became civilized during the era of the Great Expansion. Before that, it was home to monsters like Orcs and goblins, as well as native Barbarian tribes.

Generations of missionaries came here, paying with their sweat and blood to convert the Barbarians to the faith of the Morninglord and other Good Deities. This built a bridge to the South, and the converted Barbarians became the first of the local noble Knights.

Of course, although they were called Barbarians, many of them had actually learned some of the feudal systems unique to the South, so they could no longer be considered a collection of disparate tribes."

"Is that so? It sounds wonderful." Ale scribbled in her notebook, the corners of her lips turning up slightly without her realizing it.

"It does sound very nice, and most people would agree. They see the Adventurers, missionaries, and illegitimate sons of self-styled knights who came here as bearers of civilization.

Most believe their actions were noble and worthy of praise—a great many chivalric romances were born from this period. But to be blunt, it wasn’t much different from an invasion."

"What?" Ale looked crestfallen.

Colin cleared his throat. "Of course, the chivalric virtues in those stories are still worth emulating. At least virtues like justice and courage are real and meaningful."

"That’s a rather harsh criticism," Albert commented.

Colin said, "I’m not trying to point fingers. After all, it’s an undeniable fact that the Northern Barbarians constantly invaded the South. Both sides have a long history of bloodshed. Even if their conversion was feigned, exposing them to the faith of the Morninglord wasn’t a bad thing."

’Besides, this just goes to show how powerful the Weston Clan is. For a family from the South, they’ve managed to rule this land with a stable hand. Although the first Weston Family Head married the princess of a local duchy, each successive Head must have had their own way of handling the local nobles. Otherwise, this land would never have fallen under the influence of Thousand Masts City.’

"Also worth mentioning is that the manors here have more serfs than in the South, so the peasants have a much harder life. At the same time, because of this system, the Lords here can also conscript more soldiers," Colin added.

"Really? We came through here on our way south. I had no idea there was so much to the place," Kase said thoughtfully.

Dorn laughed. "If you noticed things like that, you wouldn’t be Kase."

"Hmph. And you’re Dorn, *little brother*," Kase retorted sarcastically.

As the group chatted idly, the caravan slowly moved forward, arriving at a local village in the afternoon.

Just as Colin had noted, the village was poorer than those he had seen in the South.

The paths within the village were all mud, and the houses were mostly low, wooden structures. The few more impressive homes were built of red brick.

Most of the people looked sullen and pale.

They were mostly farmers, and their burdens were far heavier than those of their southern counterparts. It was no surprise they looked the way they did.

At this moment, the merchant managing the caravan rode his horse over to the side of their carriage. He smiled and asked, "Next, we’ll be heading west to the trade city of Stopitz in Count Weston’s Domain. Will you be continuing on with us?"

"Thank you for your kind offer, but our destination is in the complete opposite direction of where you’re headed."

After Albert finished speaking, he took a wax-sealed document from his bag and handed it to the merchant.

The merchant was slightly stunned the moment he saw the letter. "This insignia... Forgive my ignorance, sir, but I have never seen a Northern noble use such a mark."

"You just need to find the Weston Clan’s financial supervisor and give him this letter. He’ll know what to do," Albert said with a smile.

"Thank you, sir." The southern merchant placed his left hand on his chest and mumbled a phrase in a southern tongue that sounded like a blessing.

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