A week later, Border Town welcomed its last month of fall with a giant blizzard.
Roland gazed out of his office window at the dark figures on the snowy rooftops—these were the townspeople carrying out their daily task of shoveling away the snow on their rooftops, so their houses wouldn't collapse under the weight.
This day marked a full year of him being in this world, but last year's fall was not nearly this cold, and his view from this window was not nearly this orderly.
At that time, the town was practically a wasteland. Besides a few decent wooden houses around the square, there were only shabby clay huts and straw shacks. Most of the nobilities lived near the square, from which the only stone road led to the castle. Otherwise, there was not a single inch of clean ground in the entire town, and everything reeked of the faeces of human and livestock.
