Release That Witch

Roland was awakened by the cold early in the morning. He climbed out of his chilly bed, put on a woolen coat, and placed his feet in a pail of warm water.     

This was the kind of "corrupted privilege" only he could enjoy as a prince. Every morning, maids would place the pail of warm water beside his bed, and also fetch a clean towel and a cup of warm milk. This way, his body could quickly regain warmth.     

Of course, he considered this to be restrained compared to the great nobles who often had their servants to warm their beds. The prince had brought over his chief maid, Tyre, for this reason, but unfortunately, she died before he got to enjoy it. Roland was not in favor of this practice, and thus, he handed the vacant position to a senior and highly experienced old maid. It turned out to be the correct choice. Though the castle accommodated many witches at present, she was able to keep the castle's interior spick and span."     

The flames in the fireplace had gone out, leaving behind only a trace of white ashes. Gusts of cold wind slipped through the window cracks behind his back, causing him to feel a piercing chill. It was hard to believe that it was still mid-autumn. Roland wiped his feet dry, cleaned himself up with another pail of warm water, and then walked up to and closed the window which had been left open overnight.     

Although open fireplaces were very common during this era, he remained worried about carbon monoxide poisoning, and thus, he would leave a gap in the window when he slept. For the first half of the night, the room temperature could be maintained at a warm level, but as the firewood was burned up, the temperature became similar to outdoors by the early hours of the morning.     

"I should think of a way to solve this problem," Roland thought, "or else, I won't be able to sleep in anymore."     

After breakfast, he led Nightingale, the chief knight, and a bunch of guards to the city wall area to conduct a routine inspection.     

There was a huge patch of grass between the new and old city walls. At this time, it had turned into a white expanse. As they walked over the piles of thick snow, they could hear a creaking sound beneath their feet.     

Roland raised his head and saw that the sky was a faint gray. On occasion, a lump of snow would drift against his neck, bringing with it a chilly feel. He was aware that this weather would likely last until the coming spring... or even longer.     

"How's the situation at our defense line?"     

"Much better than last time." Carter Lannis seemed to be perfectly calm. "Most of the First Army soldiers have battle experience and carry revolving rifles. A city wall of approximately 100 meters in length only requires 10 guards to suppress demonic beasts clattering below. Plus, the new city walls are higher than the old ones by half a meter. Even demonic wolves will find it difficult to leap on top of the city walls, and as such, they become shooting practice for our soldiers. As long as demonic hybrid beasts don't appear, it's impossible for our defense line to be breached."     

"That's great."     

As Roland climbed to the top of the city wall, the soldiers raised their heads and puffed out their chests to salute him. Judging from their spirits alone, they were completely different from the initial militia soldiers. When he visited at that time, although the Militia stood on the city wall and thrust their spears uniformly, it was nothing more than a conditioned reflex which they had trained repeatedly. Their eyes seemed numb and their movements were rigid. On closer inspection, he even saw that most of their legs were trembling slightly.     

This time, confidence oozed from the expression in the soldiers' eyes. After saluting, they turned their sights straight ahead and resumed their watch on the battlefield.     

As he cast his glance along the city walls on the side that led towards Misty Forest, he realized that this area appeared to be much busier than the rest.     

The temporary residences constructed for the serfs and refugees were situated in this area. As he looked down from the top of the city wall, he saw that long inclined tracks were arranged in parallel like undulating waves. Along each of these tracks were built 10 or so houses, whose structure was identical to that of cave dwellings. The thick earthen walls served to maintain indoor temperature, and together with heated brick beds and linen blankets, the inhabitants were kept away from the cold.     

The entire settlement was divided into two zones. The zone closer to the city walls was called the Western Zone and was arranged for refugees. The zone further away from the city walls, called the Eastern Zone, was partitioned and given to the serfs.     

Every day, the City Hall would send men here to distribute food and charcoal. In return, the refugees performed logistical errands for the First Army guarding the city wall. As for the serfs, most had already stored up sufficient wheat for themselves. Except a few hardworking ones who came out to find odd jobs and earn a little extra cash for themselves, the rest of the serfs rarely stepped out of their warm houses.     

All of a sudden, a heated argument was heard from the direction of the Eastern Zone. Roland looked towards where the sound seemed to be coming from, only to see a group of people gathered on the main road in the center of the residential area, loudly arguing over something. One of them was wearing a blue and white uniform which suggested that he was a city hall officer. The quarrel soon escalated into a brawl. Two groups of people fought against each other, turning the scene into a mess.     

"Your Highness?" Carter asked.     

"Let's have a look." Roland nodded.     

Roland's party made its way towards the location of the trouble. The chief knight took the lead by charging straight into the brawling mob. With two or three blows, he quickly subdued several of the rowdiest brawlers. Roland's guards pulled out their swords and urged everyone to stop fighting. Before long, the situation was brought under control.     

When the two groups of commoners discovered that the arriving party was none other than the lord himself, they kneeled on the ground all at once.     

"What's your name?" Roland looked fixedly and frowned at the officer, who had taken two punches on his face. "What happened here, and who attacked you first?"     

"Your Highness, I'm Khoya Harvie," the officer replied in a shrill voice while covering his face, "and it was that d*mn refugee wearing a brown linen shirt who hit me first! I was distributing food when he jumped on me like a vicious dog."     

The refugee whom Khoya pointed at raised his head and retorted. "Your Highness, the matter isn't as he said. These people colluded with the serfs to exhort us. They're charging us a price for every portion of oatmeal. When Your Highness took us in, you clearly said that all these would be distributed for free!"     

Roland felt slightly surprised. The Eastern Region refugees had already been checked through by the City Hall. Those among them who were craftsmen, possessed special skills, or were literate had been shifted into an inner ring. In principle, the remaining ones should only be peasants. However, judging from his manner of speech and vocabulary, he did not quite seem to be a peasant.     

By comparison, the city hall officer, whose mouth was full of expletives, was very disappointing. From his name and surname, Roland could guess that he was probably a knight who pledged allegiance to Duke Ryan.     

"I indeed say so—before your people are officially incorporated into Border Town, oatmeals and residences will be provided for free," Roland repeated his original words in front of all the refugees. "At present, my words are still effective!"     

"Your Highness is benevolent!"     

"Long live the lord!"     

"Thank you, Your Highness!"     

The refugees kowtowed and exclaimed.     

Khoya Harvie's face turned a ghastly pale at once.     

"However, within my territory, fighting and injuring others is always an offense, especially assaulting a city hall officer." Roland signaled to his guards. "Arrest all of the refugees and serfs who laid hands on others, and bring them to the castle. I'll handle this case myself."     

After a brief pause, he glanced with interest towards Khoya. "I'll also like to ask you about what's with the pricing of the oatmeal."