Type Moon: I, Mordred, Are So Filial

　　In fact, on this island called Britain, the only land that is really suitable for planting is a warm and humid plain in the southeast of the island.

　　In later generations, geographers planned it together with geographical areas such as the Hobby Plain and the Paris Plain into the "Western European Plain" - it did not even have its own name.

　　The small size of this plain is evident.

　　Mordred once did a detailed calculation for this.

　　Taking into account the productivity of this era, even if you count all the arable land, you can only produce about [-] million to [-] million tons of potatoes a year.

　　That number sounds like a lot.

　　But the problem is that this is only the best-case scenario.

　　The actual situation is that Mordred doesn't have that many potatoes for seeds at all - and there are not so many 400 people who know how to grow potatoes, and can maximize the scale of these potatoes.

　　Also, he had to take into account the loss of soil fertility caused by the continuous planting of potatoes.

　　"Adding all these conditions...Is the annual potato income this year between [-] to [-] tons?"

　　Here, Mordred has to admit that the new [Lord] template added to the system is really easy to use.

　　As long as he inputs some specific conditions, the system can automatically simulate the harvest a year later - which saves Mordred a lot of time.

　　And now, in the simulation of the system.The figure of [-] tons is barely enough to fill the food gap in the Upper Camelot Kingdom.

　　However, the real problem is... what Mordred promised to Artoria was not just to solve the food crisis in the Camelot Kingdom!

　　Rather, the food crisis in the entire British Isle must be resolved within a year!

　　"If you don't count the Picts in the north, there are now more than a dozen kingdoms, large and small, in the southern part of the British Isle, and the population of these kingdoms adds up to three or four million."

　　"If you count the Picts in the north, that (bcef) is more than half a million, heading for [-]."

　　That's a pretty scary number.

　　So much so that Mordred once gave up thinking and planned to break the jar.

　　"Well, as long as I kill all those extra people and there is no one to eat, then the food crisis will be solved, right?"

　　Mordred once thought to himself.

　　But, well, of course.

　　This is just a joke.

　　Everyone is blackened by inability to do anything - but Mordred understands that such incompetent fury is meaningless.

　　There is no point in escaping and withdrawing in the face of difficulties.The only way to solve a difficulty is to face it and do everything possible to overcome it.

　　Only in this way can you taste the joy and sweetness of "success".

　　And now.

　　Looking at the people in the carnival in front of him, Mordred gritted his teeth and made a rather bold decision.

　　"I don't know if I will be beaten..."

　　He thought so, picked up the wine bowl in his hand, and walked towards the people who were revelling.

　　"Come on, everyone, let me give you a toast."

　　Mordred picked up the wine bowl in his hand and said loudly:

　　"Today is my birthday, and I ask everyone to vomit back!"

　　"Otherwise, you won't give me face, let alone my father!"

　　This is quite sincere remarks.

　　Moreover, it is mainly about being grounded.

　　Coupled with that warm smile like sunshine, it has greatly eliminated the estrangement between Mordred and these civilians.

　　"Okay, vomit back!"

　　"However, let's vomit and go back. Your Highness, won't you be beaten when you vomit back?"

　　They all responded and raised the wine bowl in their hands to Mordred.

　　And Mordred smiled:

　　"What are you afraid of?"

　　"Isn't it just being beaten?"

　　"It's not like we haven't been beaten!"

　　He said aloud, as if he didn't think it was such a shameful thing.

　　On the contrary, there is a bit of pride.

　　But it made the onlookers laugh out loud.

　　At this moment, these Camelot subjects suddenly realized.The prince in front of him, who looks exactly like the King of Knights, is actually different from his father at all!

　　He is simple, sunny, and quite grounded!

　　It was as if it had grown savagely from the open field, so "innocent".

　　"As expected of a prince who grew up in a secret realm."

　　People sighed like this and gradually accepted the setting of [Artoria and Guinevere were trapped in a secret realm for [-] years].

　　He even recognized that this young man named Mordred Pandoragon was their prince, and he was the prince who would inherit the Camelot royal industry in the future!

　　It doesn't sound good.

　　At this moment, some people already think that Mordred is more suitable to be their king than Artoria.

　　After all, Mordred can give them vacations, take them to play, take them to indulge, and drink with them and sing loudly.

　　(Although His Royal Highness Mordred's singing is really not very good, it is said that there is a Roman aftertaste.)

　　And what about Arturia?What can it bring them?

　　Is day after day, year after year hungry?

　　Or the so-called "honorable victory" that came at the price of fearless sacrifice?

　　Who is superior and who is inferior is clear at a glance!

　　……

　　late at night.

　　Camelot King City, in the royal palace.

　　Compared with the hustle and bustle of the outside world, this place is like another world.

　　It was so quiet that only the rustling of Arturia turning the parchment and her helpless sigh could be heard.

　　"The battle on the southern front went well, but the food and grass were tight, and it was the rainy season, so transportation was not smooth... The defense line had to be compressed."

　　"On the northern front, because of Gao Wenqing's departure, the Picts began to launch a tentative attack on us by taking advantage of the geographical advantage... Our soldiers were miserable by the rugged mountain road. Not only did they fail to gain victory, they even lost a lot."

　　The two bad news made Artoria's mood a little worse.

　　And after a moment.

　　When the guards guarding the royal city brought her the third bad news, it made Artoria's mood sink to the bottom.

　　"King, it's not good, King... His Royal Highness Mordred, he..."

　　"What's up with him?"

　　"He said he was going to cancel the farm tax this year!"

　　"!!!"

　　PS: Thank you for the monthly ticket support of [Pishen Mengmengda], [Fantasy Hell], [Passing by Depa], [6 pieces of 9], and [***45]. .

Chapter 76

　　Camelot, in the royal city.

　　When Artoria, who was covered in frost, found Mordred under the leadership of the guards, she found that there was a large circle of people around him.

　　And Mordred, who was sitting among the large circle of people, was drinking wine while telling them something that never happened—

　　"Let me tell you, don't look at my father's usual icy look, but he is... gentle to my mother."

　　"He came to my mother's queen, and he was arrogant and arrogant."

　　"So, even if I make a mistake, as long as I go to my mother, there will be no problem!"

　　Mordred was talking nonsense with his eyes open, but he didn't even type a half-word draft.

　　The surrounding civilians nodded while listening, the more they listened, the more excited they became.

　　Obviously, they easily believed Mordre's nonsense.

　　It turns out that whether it's the fifth century or the twenty-first century, Britons' preferences are always fixed.

　　The gossip of the royal family is their biggest hobby in their life.

　　What's more, it's still such a hot news?

　　"The Queen is mighty!"

　　"Let's raise a glass to the Queen!"

　　In the corner, I don't know who made such a suggestion.

　　The people who had already enjoyed the drink didn't even think about it, they just took the wine bowls in their hands.

　　Half of the wine in the bowl has been seen - even some people's wine has been drunk, and they can only use water instead.

　　But everyone didn't say anything, and they were still drinking happily.

　　Just like what Mordred said before - don't care what you drink, even if you drink water, they have to vomit back today!

　　In this regard, Mordred nodded lightly with an imperceptible range.

　　He knew that the atmosphere had been rendered in place.