Without thinking, Roel added the skill to the runner, with the characteristic increasing the speed by 3%, but he hasn't felt much yet.

But if you add runners, you might not be able to fight that night, and those dead people won't be able to catch up with you. Saving your life is the first priority, right?

Then there are a few more skills at the end, farmers and merchants, no tips, bold and careful, and nonsense.

There is a small basket next to them that circles the four skills, and there is a new skill behind them called Peasant Knight.

The effect of farmer merchants is to get extra credit when trading with other countries.

No tipping effect No one will tip you when doing service industry work for you.

Being bold and careful can increase your chance of success when ambushing an enemy by 10 points.

Bullshit will make everyone laugh at everything you say in your speech.

Peasant Knight, when you complete something consistent with chivalry, the favor of the people who know about it will be greatly increased.

There is a small message below. [I have never seen such an honorable farmer as you!]

"Your work contract arrived yesterday. I will take you to sign it later."

"One pound of saltpeter plus sulfur, not too much sulfur, one-tenth of the saltpeter is almost enough!"

There are not many such stores in Bretonnia. If it were not for a port city like Bordero, many materials would not be available in Bretonnia.

For ordinary people, it is definitely not a small amount of money. Even a good iron sword only costs about 3 decrees.

However, the introduction to it in the system is actually: [Pitchfork, don’t underestimate it, it has two more heads than a spear.]

Elena's bouncing figure stopped on the path and looked to the east in the direction of Athel Loren Forest.

Roel was not the one who suffered a loss. He looked around in the blacksmith shop and found a good pitchfork. "Take it, a hundred rounds of ammunition and this pitchfork, a total of 2 decrees!"

Such as saltpeter and sulfur.

After finishing his work, Roel returned to his room without resting immediately. He grabbed a piece of bread and walked non-stop towards the city of Bordeaux.

The two bargained for a while, and finally, under the pretext that Roel wanted to find another home, the old blacksmith reluctantly gave up and sold the pitchfork and bullets to Roel.

The rest of the journey was silent, and until he signed the contract with the monk, Elena didn't speak to him either.

Roel took a bite of the sweet and sour fruit, thinking that this guy with such an upright mouth might have been watching him in the forest all night.

He opened his mouth to thank him, but Elena suddenly hesitated in her movements when getting down from the tree, and almost fell to the ground.

A large part of the reason Roel bought the pitchfork was because it was a long-pole weapon that could insert people behind a bunker, and it also had 15 attack points.

The sorcerer didn't care. The peasants couldn't afford his things and didn't need them.

Roel waved his hand. "Ok, ok, I understand, let's go back quickly."

The warlock or pharmacist, who was the store owner anyway, raised his eyebrows. "Farmer?"

It has to be said that Roel, wearing linen clothes and a pitchfork behind his back, is not a farmer, not to mention he is a farmer.

Roel did the math and found that based on the purchasing power of 1 farthing being 20 pence, 20 pence was equivalent to two weeks of food for a peasant family.

The wood elf's social fear was aroused, but Elena was not too wary of Roel on the way, at least it was much better than when she arrived here on the first day.

Roel also asked his biggest question. "Elena, don't you miss home? Elves rarely leave their hometown, right?"

"Are you satisfied?!"

Roel said, "The lord asked me to run errands. He didn't want others to know too much about this aspect." Then he winked.

He came here for nothing else, he just needed to collect materials for making gunpowder and projectiles. The first thing he went to was the blacksmith shop. He found the oldest shop in the city. It was not the best, but the price and quality were reasonable.

The old blacksmith did not have any bullets in stock. He asked Roel to come back next week to get them, and that was the end of the matter.

Elena may have been annoyed. "Short-lived ghost, I saw what happened to the big shot at home, and then I was driven away, that's all."

Next, Roel came to the alchemy store. Farmers usually didn't come here, but mostly pharmacists.

The old blacksmith immediately shook his head. "Give me another 5 pennies!"

Roel was reluctant. "Just, you can say it more broadly."

Roel rubbed the sparse beard at the corner of his mouth. This system was a bit interesting, but only a little bit. Then he put the rifle behind his back, carried a few statues and walked towards the lighthouse.

As she said this, she smashed two more light-colored tree fruits, and Roel immediately caught them.

But before he had gone too far, a fruit hit him on the head. Before he could completely relax, Roel immediately drew his gun and looked back. Only then did he realize that Elena was sitting with a smirk on her face.

On top of a larger tree.

"That's all, how about 100 rounds and 1 decree?"

She raised her head and looked at Roel with a disgusted look on her face. "Short-lived ghost, why are you so disgusting all of a sudden?"

"Sulfur, saltpeter, and if you have charcoal, use some charcoal." Roel waved his palms to spread the smell in front of his nose.

I have to give my parents in this world 10 farthings for living expenses, and I have 8 farthings left, and I still have to eat...

"A pound of saltpeter is 4 farthings."

Most of the people who come here are farmers, and most of the things he builds are pitchforks or shovels.

"Short-lived ghost, please enjoy breakfast thanks to the gift of the forest!"

"A pound of sulfur is three farthings."

Roel frowned. He only had a gold crown, which he had just broken open at the blacksmith, and 18 laws.

The old blacksmith was quite young, and he looked at the small buckshot that Roel gave him for a long time. "What the Imperials use, you kid don't carry a gun handle on your back?"

Roel finished a piece of fruit and returned with a bit of a bad taste, "Because we are colleagues."

"Short-lived ghost, you did a good job on the first night."

“And how much does charcoal cost?”

"He is very capable of killing, compared with farmers."

The wood elf girl shuddered and waved her hands repeatedly. "That's enough. Lilith, why are you having such a disgusting conversation method?"

Then he said seriously, "Don't ask!"

As soon as he entered the door, Roel smelled a mixture of various things. It was so complex that it was suffocating. Strange incense was lit. A man in a purple robe sat in a smoke-filled store. The entire store was dark.

, bottles and jars are placed in the cabinet, looking very Tzeuchi.

"Thank you."

The warlock took out two bags of things. "I'm not a charcoal maker, but if you need good charcoal, you can buy this..."

Then he took out a beautiful box. Inside was a piece of pitch-black charcoal, which was extremely fine in texture and had the slightest trace of fluorescence.

"This is the forest of Athel Loren, the tree in the hometown of the immortals. Generally speaking, only the Holy Grail Church will use it, but there are always exceptions, right?"

Roel looked at the charcoal and swallowed. If you add this stuff to the gunpowder, the strength of your homemade gunpowder will immediately increase!

The man said calmly, "Six fathoms, one hundred grams!"
Chapter completed!