"Twenty nobilities, if I were to enter the battlefield, with my abilities, I could easily secure at least a tenth rank noble title, right?"
A muscular and strong young man with sharp features shouldered a hoe stained with earth as he returned to the village. Watching the villagers covered in joy and a festive mood, he thought to himself.
"What are you thinking about?" At that moment, an elderly voice came from behind him. The young man turned around and immediately saw an old man, slightly hunched but still strong, looking at him.
"Nothing!" Avoiding his father's plain gaze, the young man turned his head involuntarily.
"Thinking of joining the military? Going to the battlefield to fight for others?" The old man asked in a flat tone, but the flatter his voice, the more fear appeared on the young man's face.
"No." The young man instantly denied his father's words, knowing well that his father despised those high and mighty rulers.