When he learned that His Highness had discovered a cure for the plague, Tasa's restlessness finally subsided.
And once there is something to do, the next few days seem to pass much faster.
In addition to touring the countryside wineries and planning the convoy routes, he also memorized the terrain along the canal wharf to the city gate.
Entering the Royal Capital has become far more difficult these days. Due to the influx of refugees from outside the city, all major gates have been sealed off, barring outsiders from entering. Especially after the Church began distributing the Holy Remedy, desperate crowds flood the gates daily, hoping to seek healing at the Church. The guards on the walls, however, respond without hesitation with arrows. Now, the gates are piled high with corpses, emitting a foul stench under the scorching sun.
The only open side gate was reserved exclusively for Nobles and grain merchants. Fortunately, Tasa had served in the patrol squad for years and was a local of the Royal Capital, so most guards recognized him. A simple greeting was all it took to enter or exit.
This very situation had severed communication between the city and its outskirts. Even with the grand-scale evacuation of refugees at the docks, news could hardly reach the city. For the upper nobility, it was a blessing that these potentially explosive refugees from the eastern border were being removed entirely, sparing the city from having to deploy patrol units to suppress any potential unrest.
Tasa likely understood Your Highness's determination to depart immediately after receiving the letter. Having been abandoned by the royal capital, most refugees would likely convert to devout followers if the Church sent priests to distribute the Holy Medicine outside the city at this critical moment.
If Your Highness can outmaneuver the Church and rally these people under your banner, giving them a new life and a place to call home, they will undoubtedly become your ardent supporters.
On the morning of the fourth day, the returning fleet arrived at the canal dock as scheduled. Tasa was astonished to discover that Your Highness had dispatched a formidable first battalion of 300 soldiers, most of whom had been equipped with rotating rifles. With such a powerful force at their disposal, even if the Church learned of the situation, they would likely be powerless to stop the refugees from fleeing.
"Lightning!" Margery, who was also waiting at the dock, couldn't wait to rush forward and embrace the little girl upon seeing her figure.
"Is this...?" asked the Iron Axe.
"Madam Margery, the owner of the Grand Chamber of Commerce in the Royal Capital," Tasa explained. "She arranged and provided all the vessels needed for this shipment, and her efforts were crucial to the plan's success." "I see," Iron Axe nodded. "Thank you for your help." "I'll deduct this from Your Highness," she shrugged. "And thank Lightning instead of me." Lightning tilted his head. "Why?" "Cough, cough," Tasa cleared his throat. "What's next?" "Set up camp south of the dock and secure the area. We'll launch the rescue this afternoon," Iron Axe said. "As for the ships, you'll have to handle that."...
As Brian led his men into the refugee area, he couldn't help but frown.
The hospital was filled with dying patients, their cracked skin oozing black blood and pus, which attracted swarms of flies. Yet they lacked the strength to repel them, allowing the insects to crawl over their bodies and feed on their blood.
He couldn't help but recall the time of the Evil Moon, when the people of Border Town were trapped in the fortress slums, facing starvation and the ravages of cold, just as helpless. If this was truly the Church's doing, it would be an unforgivable crime.
"First gather all the mobile ones," Brian said. "It's up to you, Miss Echo." Promoting their disease-treatment drug in the crowd might cause a stir. If the entire crowd swarmed the dock area, their few dozen people couldn't handle it alone. Thus, announcements had to be made in batches. This was precisely why Your Highness arranged for Echo to accompany them—her ability could direct sounds to specific areas or even to someone's ear.
Brian saw her open her mouth but made no sound, and someone in the refugee camp had already looked over.
Soon, a group stumbled over, "Sir, is everything you said true? If we can cure this disease, I'd go with you to the Western Frontier!" Brian's heart leapt with joy. "Of course! Our ship is already docked. Take your families and follow me!" Other soldiers joined in, carrying the motionless patient on the ground. The group swelled to hundreds as they marched toward the canal wharf. Many onlookers noticed and rushed over. Back at the dock, First Army soldiers had already set out bags of purified water on a long table. Iron Axe led the boarding bridge entrance, letting only two people pass at a time to ensure everyone drank the water.
"Listen up! These water bags contain healing potions. Drink them, and you'll be healed instantly." A makeshift platform was set up beside the long table, where a soldier stood lecturing about Your Highness's manuscript. "The Church's claim that' the plague is witchcraft-induced and only holy medicine can cure it 'is utter nonsense. They're just trying to make money and force you to kneel in gratitude. But Roland Your Highness not only brought the potion—it's completely free! Not a single copper eagle!" The words stirred the crowd, and the first person to drink the healing water soon felt his body transform. He pulled his shirt open in disbelief, watching the dark spots fade rapidly. "This medicine works! I'm healed! I'm healed!" "Me too! God knows the wounds aren't bleeding anymore!" "God knows? Where's it? I only saw a bunch of frauds!" "That's right! This medicine has nothing to do with the Church!" "Long live Roland Your Highness!" As more recovered, the crowd grew increasingly agitated. If not for the First Army soldiers maintaining order, the long table with the water bags might have been smashed by the fleeing crowd.
"Your Highness Roland is now expanding into the Western Frontier, requiring a large workforce to cultivate fields, build homes, and construct roads... He doesn't charge for potions nor force you to go there," the propagandist soldier continued in a loud voice. "But Your Highness promises that anyone willing to serve him in the Western Frontier will receive food, shelter, and pay! Whatever your skills, you'll get a job that matches your abilities! Those who wish to join must step forward and board the mercenary ships for the new homeland! Those who refuse may leave after assisting us for three days, with provisions provided free of charge by the caravan!" "Is there really shelter and pay?" someone shouted.
"Of course, this is the condition personally stated by Your Highness Roland!" the soldier nodded in response.
"Let me board the ship—I'm ready to serve Your Highness!" "Me too!" "And me, sir!" "I'm a blacksmith!" "..." To Brian's delight, not a single one of the hundreds chose to remain in the capital; all boarded the sailboat bound for the West. The first vessel set sail immediately, followed by others, moving forward without pause under Margary's command.
From then on, Brian shuttled between the refugee camp and the dock, using his echo communication to recruit waves of Eastern border refugees, always keeping the numbers within three to four hundred. As he was returning to the dock with a newly recruited group of patients, he suddenly spotted the First Army in the southern wheat fields moving swiftly. A small squad dashed toward the north bank of the canal, their guns already gripped in hand.
"What happened?" he asked the men of Iron Axe.
"Miss Lightning, the investigator, said someone had secretly jumped off the boat," the other side said after saluting, "probably a rat hiding among the refugees?"