CHAPTER 17: CHAPTER 17 – THE NUMBER OF FARMLANDS

Following a few peasants, Ryan quickly arrived at a mountain ridge. The biting winter wind and snow seemed to be blocked by the high mountains on both sides, granting this area a trace of warmth.

There was no need for much speculation—Ryan quickly identified the arable land. Scattered patches of berry bushes and wild wheat were already growing on it.

Naturally, this kind of place also attracted many animals—reindeer, elk, yaks, antelopes, and mountain goats could all be found here.

Among some dense shrubs, Ryan even discovered a den of sleeping foxes.

Perhaps it had been too long since they had seen humans, and these herbivores were not very wary. Maybe they assumed that no predators would show up in the dead of winter.

Since wild wheat could grow here, it meant the soil was capable. With a bit of preparation, planting barley or regular wheat should be no problem. In fact, even berries could likely be cultivated in the surrounding forest areas.

Turning around, Ryan could still see the peak of Rhinoceros Horn Mountain.

"Excellent."

He looked at the peasants in front of him—clearly families grouped together. These were the people he had brought back from the Deer Spirit Village.

"Judging by the scale here, if we can develop it, we should get at least ten mu of farmland. Since we’re on the mountain’s lower slope, if we expand downward using a terraced approach..."

In Ryan’s mind, he quickly calculated that if terraced farming was extended southward and the soil proved suitable, the area could yield between fifty to one hundred mu of farmland.

In the southern empire, one mu of land could yield around 100 to 150 jin of wheat. Here in the Frozen Soil Territory, in the Northern Wind Province, it was reasonable to expect half that amount.

You just couldn’t grow that much wheat or barley in permafrost.

So perhaps 50 to 80 jin per mu?

Ryan had knowledge from another life, and he was confident that his wheat yields in the north wouldn’t be worse than the lowest yields in the south.

Once he returned to the territory, he planned to recall more about the characteristics of permafrost. It was just a term, after all—it didn’t mean the land was entirely unworkable. As long as you didn’t hit the permanently frozen layer, there was still a chance to grow crops.

Based on his current assessment, a yield of 100 jin per mu seemed achievable after development.

If 100 mu could be developed, that would be 10,000 jin of grain.

Is that a lot? Not really—but for the Frozen Soil Territory, it was a major leap forward.

As long as he could find suitable arable areas within 20 to 30 li around the mountain slopes, Ryan was confident he could claim them. Beyond that, though... it was no longer feasible. Serfs stood no chance against northern beasts—they’d be devoured. Only soldiers or strong hunters could manage that.

But there’s a catch: becoming a hunter or soldier requires more food. You need to eat well to build strength.

It was a vicious cycle. That’s why Ryan defined the 20-li radius as the "safe zone" for farming.

Even that was pushing it. The only reason he dared say so was because he could bless people with his spiritual power.

With this thought in mind, he looked at one of the families in front of him.

"I estimate that this area can yield at least 50 mu of farmland. According to the rules I’ve set, I can give you 13 silver coins and 25 copper coins."

"If, later on, the area exceeds 50 mu, you can collect the additional payment from Beard."

Looking at the family, whose breathing had become hurried with excitement, Ryan paused briefly.

"As the first ones to find arable land, I’m willing to give you an additional reward."

"First, I grant you the Deer Spirit’s blessing."

"Second, once the land is developed, your family will move here to live and manage the farmland."

"Eighty percent of the harvest belongs to me. The remaining twenty percent is yours."

"Of course, you may also bring some serfs from the territory. Either buy them or lease them to help with the work."

Eighty percent. In his previous life, anyone hearing this kind of split would curse him to his face. But when Ryan said it here, the family in front of him didn’t hesitate at all.

In most imperial noble territories, peasant households were typically squeezed for 80% to 85% of their yield.

As for land worked by serfs? There was no such thing as a share—getting two meals a day was already considered generous by the lord.

And more importantly, the Deer Spirit’s blessing was something money couldn’t buy.

An 80% share to the lord meant one thing to a peasant family—they wouldn’t starve.

This was the norm for southern peasant families. If a family wanted to save any money, they’d have to find side work outside of farming seasons.

But here, things were different. According to the lord, there would be at least 50 mu of land.

Twenty percent of 50 mu—that was a different story. They could use half of that portion for food and still have enough surplus grain to sell.

Ten mu only meant surviving. But 50 mu? That meant they could call themselves landowners.

Sure, the land still belonged to the lord. But since they managed it, maybe one day—even if they didn’t have the money now—their descendants could buy the land. That would truly make them wealthy.

With the vision of such a bright future, the entire Bain family of five was overcome with emotion. They immediately dropped to their knees.

"Thank you, my lord!"

As citizens of the continent of Ecsnell, these people were descended from nobles themselves. In fact, for decades before Ryan arrived at their village, there had been nobles ruling them. But as the nobility migrated south, they were abandoned and became wanderers.

Don’t assume that losing their noble overlords made their lives better. Without noble or supernatural protection, only a few like Brand could go out hunting.

The population declined even faster.

Ryan smiled warmly. He generously bestowed the Deer Spirit’s blessing on one of the young men. Now gifted with the physique of a trainee knight, the youth could already hunt alone and might one day become a knight in Ryan’s domain.

The Bain family would become a symbol for the Frozen Soil Territory—envied and admired by all. With such an example, others would have a direction. They would work harder, even desperately, for their lord.

In fact, under such internal competition, the peasants’ expectations might even drop, and conflicts could be resolved among themselves.

Imagining such a future, Ryan couldn’t help but laugh—but in the next moment, he calmed down.

Discovering land was one thing. Developing it was another.

"Assign 300 slaves to develop this farmland. Tell them that the ten best performers will become free citizens of the Frozen Soil Territory."

"Beard, you’ll be in charge of this."

"And you..."

Ryan looked at the Bain family.

"You’ll supervise the construction."

For the sake of their future farmland, Ryan believed the Bain family would never cut corners.