Roland, Quenya and Jacob were now hiring children at one silver coin to clean up the streets and as the town criers announced that Father Karl Franz was coming, the slightly more devout already preparing small offerings of gold and silver.

Lawrence understood what the fuss was about though he couldn’t say that he particularly cared for the elderly father whom he had saved. It was simply the right thing to do at that point.

Lawrence understood that the church was a symbol of hope, a symbol of the future for the poor. Those who went from rags to riches donated generously to the church as well, believing that it was due to their faith in the gods that allowed them to prosper.

As wars were waged, civilizations, cities and towns crumbled, none would dare attack churches, and these places served as beacons of civilization even in the darkest hours of humanity.

However, whether the members of the clergy believed in gods themselves were questionable. Though there were many who were kind and devout clerics, paladins or crusaders in this world, Lawrence was sure that there were many who were cruel and hungry for power as well.

“Our city has already been clean enough, I don’t get why they are overreacting,” Lawrence grumbled as he walked past a child diligently sweeping the already rather clean looking ground.

“Don’t grumble so much, Lawrence. Having someone so senior visiting us is nothing but benefits. Anyway… What exactly did you and Craig do in that place?” Roland asked, frowning. Aside from the two questionable men they brought in, Craig had offered a variety of non-answers to Roland while Lawrence skipped the topic entirely.

“… You won’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me,” Roland said and Lawrence shrugged.

“Are the two guests settling well into the city?” Lawrence asked and Roland nodded. How could they not? They had room service at their back and call while the captain was promised a new ship in return for his help.

Of course, the merchant talked of dreams of grandeur once he returned home, the goods he would bring in and many other things. Of course, Lawrence slightly bought into the delusion of grandeur as well, dreaming of a flourishing trading post here.

Of course, he has not missed out the fact that Roland took time out to dine with this merchant and often sent gifts to him. Lawrence was not blind.

“How’s cosy-ing up to Ha’ad Hashite? People tell me you gave him a decorated sword?” Lawrence said as Roland sniggered.

“Looks like you are aware of these things as well? It is going well. His friendship will be extremely beneficial to us,” Roland said, adjusting his clothes which seemed a bit wrinkled.

“I don’t disagree with that, which is why I don’t bring it up at all.”

Somewhere out there, a noble fidgets nervously as he stands atop Everett, watching the flags of the church pull nearer and nearer and several palanquins come into view.

The gates swinging open, a wagon slowly rolled down the road. It was a quiet night and William King, a farmer returning home after a night delivery of food that they have requisitioned from him to the camp of Colonel Vava.

William, a citizen of King Carmine, like many other farmers in the area, was suddenly informed by the Carminian military that was a need for food and by royal order, each family was to hand over any grain in their granary.

Of course, not one farmer would follow that order to the letter. Many have hidden away the grains elsewhere and simply handed what the soldiers could find in the granary. That was the same for him. The entire day, farmers trickled in and out of the Carminian camp to hand over grain.

For those who reared livestock, it was much harder for them to escape. They had to hand over a few sheep or even a herd if they were wealthier.

Farmers with a poor harvest resorted to paying with either their eldest son if he was of the age to be conscripted or borrowed from their neighbours. Luckily, William had hidden away most of his harvest, leaving just a pittance for the government.

He wondered if his wife was going to cook up potato soup to maintain a cover in the event the soldiers came knocking at night.

Shivering from the cold wind breeze, William pulled the bear skin blanket from the chest below his feet and wrapped himself in it.

The village he hailed from was called Gotrex which was under what was called the Frontier Border Rule, which meant it answered directly to the royal authorities and was not ruled by any lords.

Nowadays, the village was bustling with life. Merchants from the Gerheist Kingdom came by, they even bought up some land or rented land from the farmers to build houses. They were even far more polite than those Carminian merchant families.

When the barbarians attacked the village, these merchants even pushed them back with their guards and they never attacked again.

Well, whatever. William King was just happy that there was more traffic and business going around the town.

As William’s wagon rolled into Gotrex, he could see that most of the village was already asleep, aside from the merchant’s houses that seemed to be brightly lit even at night. William waved at one of the guards standing outside of the merchant house and the guard smiled, waving back.

Stopping the wagon, William got off, guiding the horse back to the stable. Suddenly, light illuminated the area.

Looking up, William saw what seemed to be a firework being shot from the merchant’s house and into the air.

William furrowed his eyebrows but shrugged. Maybe it was a celebration.