"It sucks ~. They're hurting my lovely children."
After offering his servant beast to the aristocratic family, he is now returning to the inn he took in the city.
I was complaining one after the other in that room.
I guess this is exactly what you say when your belly boils back.
So much so that when I was watching the servant beast being cut off the corner, I almost accidentally hit him.
The palm of my hand is gripping me a long time when I was enduring not to jump, and my nails are stabbed and bleeding.
Second, I remember what I heard in my previous life.
I'm talking about a guide dog who's blind to help the visually impaired.
Guided dogs are professionally tutored to be the eyes of the visually impaired.
Apparently, that first step is to avoid barking at all times.
Because you can't work as a guide dog if you bark at it.
But one time, they had the one who pushed a cigarette fire against a guide dog who was stopping waiting for a signal or something.
The hair was so baked that it left a burn on the skin, as if it had been pressed with a baking mark.
But still, the dog that was educated as a guide dog didn't ring.
The blind owner said he could not notice that despicable act at that time because he would not even make a squeal.
The owner, who later noticed the matter, moaned greatly.
Normally, if they did that, they would likely be dogs that hated humans, but the dog, who was an excellent guide dog, then said he leaned on humans and supported them until his death.
Dogs that have been human and partner since history will have existed so far depending on their education.
And maybe the servant beast can do as much as that.
Even under the act of being cut off the horns growing from his own head, the servant beast endured without making a squeal.
I was in tears by accident.
"Come on, it's time to calm down"
"What, Dad won't regret it"
"I'm more worried about the Valkyries dying early than that. You don't know what kind of blame I'll take if the servant beast I gave you dies soon."
Mmm.
Is that indeed possible?
Unlike me, my father was calm.
Although my father, unlike me, who lives in this world, is an unschooled peasant, it doesn't mean he's retarded.
You also notice a lot that I don't realize.
Especially since we know how socially vulnerable our peasants are.
I guess that's where the statement came from earlier.
Possibility of a cornered servant beast dying prematurely.
I never thought about it, but I do worry about it.
Or we don't even know how long the Valkyries have.
How many years will you live?
Will I get sick or weak if they cut the corner?
I regret it, but I may have to look into it later.
In addition to this issue, there seemed to be other concerns for his father.
That was about the forest land I cut open.
If you leave me alone, I will cut through the woods in a short period of time that could erode the village.
I don't know exactly how you feel about that.
Maybe he'll look horribly creepy.
But there seems to have been more worrying than that.
That was about the realistic issue of tax take-up.
The main way of taking the tax is the head tax, which is how much per head farmers pay, and the land tax paid by the size of the farmland.
Moreover, farmers decide to pay taxes on wheat made in the fields.
And he couldn't even predict how much tax this year would be due to me spreading my gunned land this time.
In fact, they also thought that the villagers would never be able to pay taxes if they expanded the field so much.
The village chief couldn't pay taxes anymore. He was secretly even planning on taking the fields away from me.
This time I was able to conquer the house of a nobleman ruling the land.
That's where my father made the petition he'd been thinking about.
He complained that Hatsuka needed to be made in the fields in order to produce servant beasts in the future, and that wheat could not be produced in the fields he had made by opening the woods.
Neither on the aristocratic side, nor the production of servant beasts and the exploitation of forests, is something to be hoped for.
He listened to my father, desperately complaining, and at the same time authorized the production and sale of the servant beast, he authorized the official ownership of the land and the payment of taxes in money, not wheat.
I'd say I'm very lucky to have been born to a father I can count on.
This is how I officially became the owner of the land.