Chapter 8: Agrarian Reform
He decided it wasn't a good idea to go directly to the farmers and simply tell them, "Hey, I need you to change the crop system you've used your entire lives." Call him crazy, but he was well aware that forcing people to change their methods almost never went well. With that in mind, once he left Ludwig's workshop, he returned to his room, where he spent roughly two days perfecting his speech for the agrarian reform.
The irrigation systems and the fertilization calendar would need more time, of course, but the four-field rotation system was something he could implement immediately, and it would naturally help the population quite a bit.
According to the records he found in the library, the peasants were currently using the three-field system, which basically functioned as a primitive form of crop rotation: one field was left empty—or "fallow," whatever that meant; he wasn't a farmer—while the other two were used to grow oats, beans, wheat, and rye. But he had been there when his father was first introduced to the four-field system. He had been a child, yes, but he remembered all the advantages they had discovered then.
As far as he recalled, the system worked exactly as its name suggested: four fields, divided into legumes, roots, and leafy crops. This allowed for the production of far more food, since legumes and root vegetables helped keep the soil fertile—or even increased its nutrient richness. Additionally, thanks to leafy plants like clover, they could store extra feed for livestock, allowing them to raise animals even during winter months. And they would also be able to farm in cold climates, since certain roots, like turnips and beets, tolerated the cold surprisingly well and even grew during winter.
So he set an immediate goal: implement this system in at least a couple of fields over the next month, especially considering that in at most a few months he would finally have access to phosphate fertilizer, which would increase crop yields even more. And if everything went according to plan—and it would—they could have several silos full of food… and he would have to teach them to make preserves. That would come later. The point was that, if all went well, in a few years Kufstein would become both the industrial arm of Austria and its granary… though he needed to find a better way to phrase that.
He eventually finished every schematic he would need for the agricultural reform. When he did, he noticed the sun had already set, and it was quite late—time for a good bath before bed. After all, tomorrow would be a long day. However, just as he was about to ask the servants to prepare the water, he heard a knock on the door.
Naturally, his fight-or-die instincts snapped into full alert, thinking this was yet another one of Lambert's attempts to kill him.
"Who is it?" he asked calmly, just as his father had taught him.
Fortunately, the answer did not come from his brother's voice but from a much softer, feminine one.
"It's me."
And with that single response, the siscon instincts of his former princely self activated at once. Although his sister had just turned twelve and was, legally speaking, a young teenager, she was still just his little sister.
With that in mind, he simply opened the door. When he did, he found his sister standing in the doorway, wearing a pink nightgown and holding an old rag doll she had owned since she was born—or at least shortly after. It was her favorite toy and also her best friend.
The doll had aged quite poorly, but the dress was clearly of the finest craftsmanship. That only made Rose wonder how in the world his family could afford such frivolities given the deficit he had found in the account books. Most likely, his father cared more about appearances than about… being able to eat in a few years.
But he would scold his father later. For now, he simply looked at his little sister. It was quite late, and she should definitely be asleep, which only fueled his siscon paranoia—the same one Kenjaku used to mock him for back in the day.
"Did something bad happen?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
He managed it… barely. Very barely.
The question—along with the tone in which he asked it—made his little sister clutch her doll tightly to her chest, which only intensified Rose's siscon instincts even further.
"I can't sleep… could you tell me a story?" Henrietta asked.
And with that, all his fight-or-die instincts vanished. Even if he didn't need to kill anyone at that moment to protect her, she still needed him—at least to some extent. For someone who had always loved all his siblings equally, refusing any of her requests was impossible. Besides, it was a good way to avoid forgetting his origins, since he could tell her stories about his father, his uncles, and his mothers.
So he simply closed the door to his room and began walking toward his little sister's. However, he soon realized she wasn't following him. She was still standing in the doorway, which left him completely confused and forced him to turn around immediately.
"Henrietta, why are you still standing there?"
The girl stiffened at the question and looked down the long corridor with a completely pale face… or well, paler than she naturally was.
"The hallways are scary at night."
Well, that made sense. Lighting torches during the night was a fire hazard no one with two functional brain cells would risk. And seeing that his sister was too scared to move, Rose simply returned to her side, took her hand, and began walking with her again toward the girl's room.
Even if he couldn't see her expression, Henrietta smiled as they walked down the hallway hand in hand.
At that moment, the girl concluded she had overthought the entire matter regarding her older brother. He was still the same kind and caring sibling as always… only now he had gone through a near-death experience that made him feel the need to give real purpose to his life.
Upon reaching her room, Rose opened the door and guided her to her bed. He lifted the blankets and tucked her in carefully. For a moment, he forgot how fragile his body still was, since he needed to use all his strength just to lift her onto the bed. But he managed. Then he sat beside her and, after thinking for a long moment, began to tell her the story of his father's best friend.
The dark mage Zeref.
How, blinded by grief and the loss of his younger brother, he had delved into forbidden magic, causing Ankhseram, the god of life and death, to curse him with the worst of all curses. Of course, he didn't share the darkest details; he only told her how Zeref lived centuries in solitude until he eventually met a young man just as lost and lonely as he was—someone who became his true best friend and helped him overcome that loneliness.
He knew perfectly well that telling her about magic and curses probably wasn't the best idea, but honestly, he didn't care. His uncle's story was one of the most beautiful of all, teaching that love and friendship—cliché and cheesy as they sounded—could break any curse, even one cast by a god.
By the time he finished the story, Henrietta was completely asleep. Seeing her in such a deep slumber, he couldn't help but smile and kiss her forehead.
"Sleep well, little sister," he whispered with a smile.
Afterward, he left the room and immediately ordered the servants to prepare his bath. It had been ready for a while, so he simply took his time enjoying it before returning to his room to rest for the remainder of the night.
When the sun rose and the roosters began crowing—waking both the peasants and the young lord—Rose began his daily exercises. He finished quickly so he could bathe and then headed to breakfast with his family once again.
After eating, he set off for the village with two main objectives:
First: establish a good relationship with the farmers and begin the agrarian reform project.
Second… buy pig lard. As much as he could. He needed his damn hair wax; he hated seeing his hair so dull and lifeless. Damn it! His hair had always been—along with his eyes—his most attractive feature.
He finally arrived at the village and approached one of the nearest farms. There he saw a man of about thirty preparing his tools to begin plowing the fields. Nothing unusual: spring was about to begin, and it was the perfect time for sowing.
Even so, Rose simply focused on the man working diligently and decided it was the perfect moment to begin his plan.
"Excuse me, what is your name?"
The farmer in question noticed that the man—whom he recognized as the baron's son—had spoken, but not believing he was being addressed, he looked around to see who else the young lord might be calling. It wasn't until he realized there wasn't another soul in sight that he understood the heir was indeed speaking to him. He pointed at himself, mouth slightly open and eyes unfocused, unable to comprehend what on earth the baron's heir wanted with a humble peasant.
"Yes, you. How should I address you?" Rose repeated.
"M-my lord… my name is Gunther…" the man answered, still utterly confused.
Rose had to stop for a moment upon hearing the name, trying to remember where it sounded familiar. In the end, he couldn't place it and assumed it must be some nonsense—maybe a penguin from a childhood cartoon or something like that.
"Gunther… a strong name, no doubt. It suits you well. I'm Rose; it's a pleasure to meet you," he finally said, hoping he wasn't being too dramatic. In his defense, even in his past life he rarely spoke with peasants; that had been more his father's thing, since the man preferred working in the fields rather than in his office. And that was why Uncle Zeref often had to come down personally to drag him back to his desk.
Gunther, however, couldn't believe what he had just heard.
The son and heir of the baron thought it was a pleasure to meet him, a mere peasant?
How was that possible?
Without meaning to, he ended up voicing his thoughts aloud.
"A pleasure… to meet me? How?" he asked, fearing his boldness would earn him punishment.
Rose's smile faded just a little. He realized he had made a huge mistake—he had forgotten something important. Peasants, before his father's empire (where they were protected as if his father's life depended on it), had no self-esteem and did not truly understand the value they held as men and as the backbone of society.
"Well, of course it's a pleasure," Rose replied. "Without your hard work, the kingdom wouldn't have enough food to survive the winters. We would starve and freeze to death. That's why it's a pleasure to meet one of the people who truly keep the kingdom functioning, even if your work isn't recognized the way it should be."
He spoke with passion in every word.
He wasn't being entirely honest; he wasn't lying, but the real reason why the peasants were the most important class in the empire—even above the nobles in certain aspects—was simple: they broke their backs every day, living with just enough or sometimes less, so that everyone else could eat. That was why his father had always admired them and had instilled in Rose an absolute respect for them.
And in this world, the peasants had it even worse than in the First Era. In fact, if a man from that time were forced to live as a peasant in this era… he would probably try to kill himself in under a month.
Hearing the young heir's words left the farmer completely speechless. The boy's reputation was well known across the barony; even peasants had heard what he used to be like. But seeing him in person and hearing what he said shattered that image entirely.
Rose noticed, of course, but didn't give it much importance. He had already shattered two people's expectations of him… three, if he counted his little sister. So he simply picked up the conversation where he had left off.
"Tell me, Gunther… have you ever considered using a four-field system?"
In the future, Rose would learn to introduce the general idea before asking a direct question. For now, he simply threw it out with no context whatsoever.
And, as expected, Gunther almost scoffed at the young lord's question.
It was true that Rose was the baron's son… but he knew absolutely nothing about agriculture—something Rose himself would openly admit.
Farming was something Gunther's family had worked in for generations.
"My lord, with all due respect… if we used four fields, the soil would erode and eventually become useless," Gunther replied politely.
That was when Rose realized two things.
First, and most importantly: he had completely skipped the part where he was supposed to explain the four-field system before asking if they used it.
And second: this man was not a simple peasant blindly repeating family traditions. Gunther truly understood his craft and knew the nuances and risks of what he did. He wasn't a tool of the land; he was a skilled farmer.
"Yes, probably," Rose admitted. "But I was thinking more of a rotation system between four separate fields. Each one used for a different type of crop: say, wheat, turnips, barley, and clover. Would that solve the erosion problem?"
He asked while mentally noting he needed to prepare better next time he presented an initiative.
Which, in turn, led him to mentally note that he needed a recipe book… and that he should start a printing press as soon as possible.
And why was he asking?
Well, although he wasn't trying to test Gunther, he did need to know whether his idea was viable. And who better than a real farmer to tell him if he was wrong?
Gunther thought for a long moment.
When he finally finished, his eyes widened. Even in this era, it was well known that legumes enriched the soil where they were planted—hence why they were part of the three-field system.
But the more he pondered a four-field rotation, the clearer it became that the young lord's idea was sound. With four fields, they could not only maintain soil fertility but increase it, produce food year-round, and sustain livestock simultaneously.
That revelation made Gunther look at Rose with a new and growing respect—one that only deepened when Rose made his next statement.
"I see the idea makes sense. Then let's go—we're putting this innovation to work."
With that, he stepped off his horse, rolled up his sleeves, grabbed a hoe, and stood side by side with Gunther, ready to work with the humble farmer to introduce the agricultural innovation that would turn his barony into the breadbasket of the world.
Or at least… of Europe.
And despite his natural weakness, he worked the fields—plowing and sowing—throughout the entire day, just as he had watched his father do so many times when he was a child.
Only this time, there would be no centuries-old dark mage appearing out of nowhere to drag him back to his office.
By the time the day ended, the four-field system had been implemented on a single farm… and Rose felt as if his body wanted to murder him for pushing it so hard. Again.
But even so, he felt deeply satisfied on a personal level.
At the end of the day, this was the kind of life he was used to.
He had always been incredibly active—a man of action.
Gunther simply stared at him in disbelief. He knew that no one in the village—including his wife and children, who had even seen the young lord working—would ever believe he had plowed and sown an entire field alongside the baron's heir.
And just like with Ludwig before him, that fact planted the seed of a friendship that would last a lifetime.
End of Chapter.