"Haven't you seen the videos that Viscount Roster and his people posted on the Magic Net? Your estate's wheat can all be taken care of before dark."
The agriculture cleric shot an annoyed look at the middle-aged man who'd spoken. "The future of farming is mechanization, not serfs."
The middle-aged nobleman opened his mouth, wanting to argue, wanting to question it, but he didn't know what to say.
His estate was pretty well-known in the Hill Lands Commonwealth—huge in size. He wouldn't dare claim it was the biggest, but it definitely had the most farmland.
His territory had tons of serfs and slaves, famous throughout the entire Hill Lands Commonwealth.
But faced with this sudden rainy weather, he was helpless.
Even if he sent out all the serfs and slaves on his estate and hired every freeman in the area, there was no way they could finish harvesting before the rain the Church of Agriculture's weather forecast predicted.
No, they probably couldn't even finish half of it.
