After the North Knights stationed themselves at Joan of Arc Castle and began guarding the passes to gradually eliminate the Robber Knights, the Holy Gun Cavalry finally had their hands free.

Starting the day after the Believers' Assembly, 15 Holy Gun Cavalry Brigades, along with 15 Military Police teams, set out from Joan of Arc Castle, turning into dozens of clouds of dust as they charged into various villages.

"Woo woo woo—"

The horn blew, and the farmwomen in the manors immediately snatched up their children and rushed into the houses like the wind.

The remaining villagers only dared to walk towards the cavalry one step at a time, constantly looking back, pushed and dragged by their public representatives.

A representative of the Armed Farmers, in frustration, kicked a villager on the tailbone: "It's not like they're leading you to the execution ground, hurry up!"

Once the villagers meekly gathered, a low-ranking monk, escorted by the Holy Gun Cavalry, began to open the proclamations and read aloud.

The content was nothing more than warnings of "The Salvation Army is here, and the day is bright; the Salvation Army is here, and Kush is at peace", advising villagers that the overlord had changed, and they should behave.

Yet within this, they heard something different.

Only after the Holy Gun Cavalry left with billowing dust did the more familiar farmers run to the representative to inquire.

"Cousin, what did he mean by land distribution just now? Is it to distribute the lord's land to us?"

"Pretty much." The representative smiled proudly, "According to the Church's tax records, the land you get depends on how much grain you pay."

"Is there really such a good thing?" Looking around at the other Public Register Farmers, Sesi, an Armed Farmer, pulled his cousin to a quiet spot under the big locust tree, "Cousin, how do we distribute it?"

The representative frowned and hesitated, but finally puffed out his chest: "We'll distribute it as it's meant to be. In a couple of days, the Military Police will bring the land distribution team."

"Cousin, we are all good people in the village..."

"I advise you to send the grain you underpaid for over the past three years to Joan of Arc Castle; this is the last bit of advice from me as your cousin, and it won't harm you."

After patting his cousin's shoulder, this representative eager for progress stepped forward to face the other villagers who hadn't yet dispersed.

"Listen up, from today on, you're no longer subjects of the Duke, but subjects of the Pope and the Holy Father." The representative pointed his index finger to the sky, "The Crowned One, with virtue, has exempted us from a year's taxes. We must focus on our spring cultivation, and have no ulterior motives..."

"It must be the Holy Father's benevolence."

"Indeed, to exempt a year's taxes just like that."

"Is it really exempt, big brother?"

"Who knows, they might demand it all back together with the tribute later."

While the representative held a formal meeting above, the villagers held a small meeting below, making the Armed Farmers' representative cough repeatedly to quiet them.

"Finally, regarding this land distribution, we need to recruit defensive troops to help distribute the land, selected from the Public Register Farmers. Who wants to volunteer?"

The villagers present immediately became as quiet as little chicks, with only a few young villagers raising their hands.

"Alright, it's just you few."

Standing high on the hillside, Martin and Qianqian coldly observed the changes happening in the village below.

They had seen such scenes many times since entering the Kush Territory.

By the mill, by the waterwheel, by the fences, in the alleys between fields, groups of villagers and townsfolk gathered around the representatives, listening to the new laws they brought, either with joy or concern.

Departing from Rapids City, due to the wartime state which led to multiple inspections at checkpoints, it wasn't until March 22nd that the two of them reached the vicinity of Joan of Arc Castle.

However, these scenes were still on the periphery, and the land distribution work in some manors hadn't yet begun.

By the time Martin and Qianqian could see Joan of Arc Castle Church's tower, the countryside presented a different scene.

The gate of the monastery on the hill was wide open, with billowing smoke rising, and a row of neatly arranged corpses lay by the wall.

Low-ranking monks, with ropes and shackles around their hands and necks, were being led forward, sobbing plaintively.

Carts filled with gold and silver coins rattled crisply as the vehicles bumped along.

The resplendent jewelry and ornaments glinted dazzlingly in the sunlight.

After that dazzling brilliance passed, there were vast stretches of fields where the landmarks and shrubs forcibly arranged by the Manor Lords were being one by one removed by the Defensive Army.

"Let's dismount and walk." Monk Martin could sense the strange gazes around him, especially since he was also being led and protected by three Holy Gun Cavalrymen.

Once off the horse, Martin could more clearly see the people's actions among the fields.

By the large stone that served as the manor's landmark, a makeshift straw shed had been erected, and under the shed several monks were reading names from a ledger.

"Delis from Reilly Village, age 33, four people in his household, 65 mu of land distributed, step forward to leave a handprint."

"Delis from Reilly Village… Another Delis? You're the short Delis, let's call you Delis Xiao, eight in your household, 92 mu of land distributed, step forward to leave a handprint."

Each villager called forward left a handprint, and was led by the Defensive Army to the edge of the fields.

The Defensive Army and Child Soldiers were holding long measuring sticks, slowly measuring the fields and pounding dozens of wooden stakes into the soil to delineate approximate boundaries.

Regarding the Empire's mathematical capabilities, Horn always felt puzzled – their geometric skills were impressively advanced, bordering on modern level.

Yet their arithmetic abilities remained in the early medieval period; they still needed slide rules for calculations involving two-digit multiplication and division, which was quite confusing.

Their mindset was very peculiar, always using geometric methods to solve arithmetic problems, and much less algebra.

However, excellent geometric skills facilitated Horn's land distribution efforts significantly.

Even the captain of the Child Soldiers' Military Police, Raphael, summarized a mathematical principle suggesting that the precision of land allocation by monks was directly proportional to the number of bruises on their faces.

In the fields above, the villagers knelt on the ground, clutching the wet and stinking earth with both hands, and everyone cried uncontrollably.

They kissed the land while repeatedly prostrating towards Joan of Arc Castle, crying out "Pope!" and danced joyously in the fields.

Squatting down, grabbing a handful of sticky soil, Martin couldn't help but smile at the farmers dancing gleefully.

Yet this peaceful and joyous scene wasn't everywhere. After walking a few steps, they saw an Armed Farmer being dragged to the village entrance, flanked by two Defensive Army members.

His legs flailed wildly, leaving a long shallow groove on the ground.

"What's going on?" Leading the horse, Martin stopped.

"Let's go over and see." Qianqian suggested.

Pushing through the onlookers, they saw the Armed Farmer being pressed against a large rock, his woolen breeches pulled down, exposing his black backside.

A Military Policeman with a pointed hat picked up a long whip and casually snapped it, causing a cracking sound in the air.

"Snap!"

The muscles on the faces of the surrounding villagers twitched simultaneously, with some turning their heads away in reluctance.

With the first lash, the Armed Farmer howled:

"You're the ones taking my land! I haven't done anything wrong, my only mistake was not being that representative... it's too painful!"

The manor's public representative crossed his arms and sneered as he addressed the villagers:

"Look at this result: selling land that should be distributed, to the Public Register Farmers in installment, illegal land trading, now face whipping!"

Seeing that raw, bloody backside, the other villagers present cringed; some even couldn't bear to watch and turned their heads away.

"You see, this is what happens. If you sell land meant for distribution to the Public Register Farmers, and allow them to buy it back in installments, that's illegal land trading, and neither I nor anyone else can save you."

"Brother, your land hasn't been distributed because you paid off the taxes, so you can talk without feeling the pain..."

"Says who, who's talking?" The public representative pointed at the crowd, got thoroughly lost for words and implored with a flushed face.

"Is this representative really the Pope Country's grassroots official?" Martin asked Qianqian in interest.

Smiling, Qianqian waved in greeting, as Jeanne led her horse over.

"Jeanne." Qianqian smiled and waved in greeting while Jeanne trotted over with her horse.

"You must be Brother Martin." Jeanne and Martin simultaneously bowed with a hand over their chests. "My brother is injured, so he sent me to welcome you, welcome to Joan of Arc Castle."

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