Early the next morning, Raymond and his family followed Bono into the city. Bono's decision to shelter Raymond and his family was not without reason. After a hearty meal, Raymond, his mother, and his younger brother Thomas all helped him carry a basket of vegetables, including tomatoes, carrots, cauliflower, corn, as well as high-quality horse feed like soybeans and black beans. Bono mentioned that these vegetables sold well in the city, as many freemen were no longer satisfied with bread for every meal and desired a variety of vegetables.
As they headed towards Gien town, the road was bustling with people and vehicles.
"My goodness, are those dwarves?" Raymond, carrying vegetables, noticed a few dwarves in somewhat comical thick clothing carrying tools on the road.
Raymond had never seen dwarves before. Among the peasants, there were only legends about dwarves being stingy and brutal creatures who would pour molten iron down humans' throats to force them to reveal their secrets.
"Yes, those are our dwarven friends," Bono, already accustomed to such sights, said loudly. "The greatness of Count Ryan lies here; even the dwarves in the mountains and the elves in the forests are willing to be his friends."
"Elves?! My goodness, I only caught a glimpse of an elf once when I was young and on a procurement trip," Raymond's mother murmured to herself, somewhat refreshed after a good night's rest and a full meal.
Pedestrians crowded the roadside, all discussing recent events. The peasants were curious about what had happened in the north to cause a surge of refugees to Count Ryan's lands.
The peasants were curious but not panicked. They seemed to have unwavering faith in Count Ryan and his army, believing that any formidable enemy would fall before the count. This confidence wasn't baseless but stemmed from a deep trust and recognition of Count Ryan.
"Five years ago, when the Holy Grail Knight, the chosen champion of the Lady, Count Ryan, came here, he enacted new laws and introduced new slogans. To be honest, we didn't understand much of what he said at first," Bono, carrying a basket of vegetables, told Raymond. "But one phrase really stuck with us. Our count said he wanted every hardworking peasant in his domain to eat chicken at least once a week!"
"Ah!" Raymond was astonished. Could there really be such a lord?
"Five years have passed, and our dreams are gradually becoming reality. My family still can't eat meat once a week, but once a month is possible. We're no longer hungry, we have some food stored, and we eat less black bread. Instead, we eat more porridge and fish, and even better barley bread. Life is getting better, and we sincerely thank the count for everything he has brought us," Bono said earnestly. "Whoever opposes our count, I, Bono, will be the first to disagree!"
"The south is said to be good, but is it really this good?" Raymond sighed. Along the way, he saw no drunks collapsed by the roadside or any emaciated peasants. Everyone looked confident and vibrant, with some peasants even wearing new clothes, their complexions rosy.
Those were fine linen clothes, costing who knows how much?
Merchants drove their carts, rumbling with unknown goods. Occasionally, a patrol passed by, their spirits high, their formation orderly, their steps in sync.
And there were those with pointed ears! These wood elves, even in the late winter, wore single layers of clothing with only a beast skin cloak for warmth. They transported large quantities of goods, mingling with human caravans. Raymond even noticed some merchants greeting them, and the proud elves actively responding.
My goodness! Weren't elves supposed to be a race of cruel and heartless higher beings? Just hearing the word 'elf' used to send chills down the spines of Raymond and his family.
Elves enjoyed privileges, and humans made way for their caravans. The wood elves' wagons quickly disappeared ahead.
"My goodness, this is the first time I've seen elves, and they don't seem to dislike us much..." Raymond whispered to Bono.
"These elves are called wood elves, they're temperamental and not very sociable, but in my opinion, they're good people. The last time I was ill, the medicine I used was traded by the wood elves, cheaply too. And occasionally, the wood elves come to us to buy medicinal herbs. If anyone has stock, they can make a small profit," Bono whispered back. "Of course, the count has ordered that we speak less in their presence to avoid being seen as provocative."
"Of course, of course," Raymond said, still apprehensive.
Many signs along the road pointed towards the office. The count had considerately taken into account that most peasants were illiterate, so the road signs were depicted in somewhat peculiar cartoons.
The cartoons showed a peasant diligently farming and another working hard, while knights handed out bread and porridge, with the words "Work" and "Bread" written simply below. Even the most uneducated peasant could understand this simple message: work in exchange for food. Seeing this, Raymond and his family felt reassured. Working for food was fair and exactly what they were looking for.
The existence of peasants was to work for the lord in exchange for food and the right to survive, while the lord provided military protection. This arrangement had persisted for thousands of years and was expected to continue. Count Ryan's requirement for the refugees to work for their food confirmed his need for them. Needing the refugees meant he likely wouldn't execute or exile them without cause.
Peasants were not averse to hard work; their fear was of working hard and still starving.
After walking for several hours, the novelty of the sights had somewhat numbed Raymond. In the distance, towering city walls and gates appeared, standing majestically on the earth like deities. The walls, five to six meters high, blocked the view beyond, and as they approached the gate, the family crest of the count and the holy image of the Lake Fairy were visible.
The shield was split between red and white, featuring a golden chalice and a sword piercing a book, with two ribbons wrapped around the shield. Below was a family motto in a script unreadable to peasants.
The city gate was crowded with carts and people eager to enter—peasants, freemen, merchants, dwarves, wood elves, and many knights seeking guidance. Some were questing knights on pilgrimages for their own holy grails, others were rangers wishing to serve under Count Ryan's command.
The wood elves, dwarves, and nobles clearly had priority in entering the city.
Today, however, was slightly different. Whether peasants, freemen, merchants, knights, nobles, or elves and dwarves, all made way for a beautiful lady knight and her attendants to enter the city first.
This was a stunningly beautiful lady knight with golden hair and a valiant figure, whose breathtaking beauty and perfect posture drew the reverence of all as she slowly rode into Gien town. Cheers filled the air as people shouted praises like "Our Countess is wonderful!" and "Greetings to Lady Sulia!"
"Kneel down!" Bono quickly motioned for Raymond and the others to kneel, and they all watched as the lady knight entered the city.
"Who is that?"
"That's our Countess! She's the daughter of Duke Winfort and the fiancée of our count, the future Countess! Everyone adores her," Bono said, bowing deeply with a voice full of admiration.
"Oh, oh!" Raymond had encountered lords' wives before, who were often harsh and took pleasure in tormenting peasants. The peasants in his village secretly despised such women.
It seemed things were different here, Raymond thought to himself.
After queuing for a while, they entered the city. Part of the sky was obscured by the towering city walls, and they were greeted by numerous vendors shouting about their wares—vegetables, meat, clothes, a variety of stalls that left Raymond and his family dazzled. The streets were lined with neat two-story houses, many beautifully decorated.
Raymond's mother was the most astonished; among them, only she had been to a city in her youth.
There wasn't the expected stench. In her memory, cities were always filled with foul odors from human and animal feces and countless trash, with city-edge residents living amidst garbage. "This place... seems different."
"Are you talking about the trash? Times have changed," Bono seemed very familiar with this topic. "The count and his council taught us to use manure to fertilize our fields. It works well... though it's a bit smelly, but overall acceptable. Ever since the first brave fellow's fields yielded more, manure has become sought after. Human, pig, horse—all treasures, treasures for us commoners."
"Now, the city has toilets everywhere. People do their business there, and the waste is hauled out of the city. Everyone wants their fields to produce more to meet the count's demands, and the rest is theirs!"
"Hey, this is where we part ways!" Bono pointed towards a crowded area ahead. "That's the office over there."
"Okay!" Raymond set down the basket of vegetables and pushed through the crowd with his family.
The crowd was huge, likely over a hundred people, mostly northern refugees, packed together and exuding a strong body odor like spoiled meat.
But this was within the endurance of Raymond and his family, who managed to push their way to the front of the crowd.
Inside the office, there were a dozen fully armed soldiers, and a man who looked like a sergeant stood on a high platform. His commanding presence reminded Raymond of many knights.
Behind him were many merchants and shop
owners, even some dwarves, all there to recruit workers.
"Folks from afar! I'm Denni! I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?"
"Bad news!" shouted a young refugee, freshly shaven, without a beard.
"The bad news is, recently many refugees from the north have flooded into our town, and many positions have been filled. Those of you who want to apprentice with dwarves or work in the textile mills better hurry!"
"And... the good news?" another refugee shouted loudly.
"The good news is that we have countless job positions and fields yet to be cultivated here. There's no job we don't have, only things you can't do!!!" The sergeant pulled out a stack of papers from his pocket. "Now, tell me, brothers, who wants to fill their stomach? Who wants to earn their lunch and dinner, and a pint of barley beer after work?!"
"Me! Me!!" The crowd surged forward, frantic.
"Who wants to work hard for the count? To earn the right to settle here?"
"Me! Me! Me!!!" The cries of hundreds of refugees filled the air, their eyes red as they reached out towards the sergeant.
"Then let's get started!"
Updated! Second update of the day! Don't forget to vote!
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