Chapter 13

Half a year had passed since he woke up after falling into the sea.

The white shirt and shorts Cyrus wore had begun to be replaced with slightly thicker long-sleeved shirts and trousers.

The temperature gradually dropped, and the sea wind became merciless, stabbing at people's faces like chilly knives as it blew back and forth with a howling roar.

Previously, Cyrus would read by the window or handle government affairs while admiring the seaside scenery.

Now, he had moved beside the fireplace in the study. Soft, comfortable sofas were arranged around it, with a low, heavy square table in the middle. Usually, once he curled up there, he barely wanted to move.

More than a month had passed since the first drill ended.

Winter was approaching.

Everything in Visas was proceeding in an orderly fashion.

The soldiers continued their training. Issues involving the newly arrived commoners and slaves settling in or finding work had all been properly resolved. The Thorn Merchant Guild was operating well, and the income from salt sales continued to rise.

At first, the refined salt they produced could only be sold within Visas.

Later, Komoy Fort finally lifted its ban preventing commoners and slaves from leaving the city.

Visas's refined salt began circulating outside. Cheap, high-quality refined salt gradually replaced the coarse salt sold by the Nagabi Merchant Guild.

Soon afterward, the sales routes for refined salt reached Gadayat's royal capital and even extended as far as the Gaina Kingdom.

Compared to expensive coarse salt grains, the new refined salt was not only cheap but also as beautiful as fine white snow. There was no need to put the two in front of someone to know which one they would choose.

Thus, in merely a few months, demand for refined salt rapidly increased and continued expanding, while its sales reach grew ever broader.

Within the areas where refined salt was sold, the Nagabi Merchant Guild's coarse salt had practically been squeezed out of the market, left with only a tiny foothold.

Likewise, this near-monopolistic business brought Cyrus profits that could only be described as heaps and mountains of gold coins.

At that moment.

Cyrus's feeling was—being rich meant no panic.

But because he wanted to save himself the trouble, he had directly used the crest of the Desinia Family as the Thorn Merchant Guild's trademark. As a result, commoners and slaves gradually got used to calling refined salt Rose Salt.

Cyrus: =.=

The castle, built atop seaside cliffs, had always been damp.

Now that winter was nearly here, the surroundings felt even colder and gloomier. Firewood had therefore been lit in the indoor fireplaces early on, making the study pleasantly warm.

Gibran truly possessed an excellent talent for mathematics.

He studied under Old Nick and was now gradually coming into contact with and familiarizing himself with the castle's financial management.

Gibran was reporting the previous month's financial income and expenditures to Cyrus.

"Overall, income greatly exceeded expenditure."

"A large portion of the expenses went toward requests from the Soldiers' Training Camp—purchasing weapons, buying ingredients, replacing clothes and bedding, and so on... Recently, Commander Ferdinand and Commander Walker applied again to provide the soldiers with stoves and coal. Otherwise, it will be difficult to get through the winter."

Cyrus nodded. "Approved."

For warmth in winter, people used stoves or fireplaces, burning coal or firewood.

Naturally, nobles did not need to worry about how they would survive the entire cold winter.

But coal was expensive, beyond the means of commoners and slaves. Some people's homes did not even have stoves. Although firewood could be gathered from Par Mountain, going up the mountain to chop wood in winter was undoubtedly a difficult choice.

Sometimes, they might even encounter danger.

Besides, people freezing to death in winter was nothing unusual.

Cyrus asked, "Judas, how many people die in Visas during the coldest days?"

Judas replied, "If heavy snow covers Visas... many people will die."

Toby said softly from the side, "Mom died in winter too..."

Gibran silently rubbed his little brother's head.

If he had not been fortunate enough to meet the count, he and Toby probably would not have known how to get through this winter.

Cyrus said, "Allocate another sum from the finances to build a relief station, specifically to help impoverished people survive the winter. Whether they are commoners or slaves, as long as they are within Visas's territory, they may apply for assistance at the relief station."

"The primary recipients of aid will be elderly people without the ability to support themselves, orphans, injured people, and those with disabilities or impairments..."

Toby's eyes shone brightly as he listened.

Judas said, "But in that case, there will inevitably be lazy people who use tricks to pretend they need aid."

Gibran could not help saying, "Yes, Count. The elderly and orphans have no ability to protect their money. There is no shortage of thugs and ruffians in the city. They would do anything for money. They might rob them, or secretly control the elderly and orphans..."

He had lived in the most remote part of Visas since childhood and knew deeply that the wickedness of people's hearts was impossible to predict.

Toby frowned. "Then what should we do?"

Cyrus said, "In that case, bring all elderly people and orphans living alone into the relief station."

"They should know best who needs aid and who does not. Order the knights to verify it as well. If anyone is found deliberately defrauding the relief fund, the money will be reclaimed in minor cases, and they will be driven out of Visas in serious cases."

He said, "Some bad things cannot be eliminated or avoided. We cannot accurately filter them all out. All we can do is help those who need help as much as possible."

That was all he could do.

As he said these things, the count was curled up on a soft sofa, completely wrapped in blankets by the Judas butler who worried he might be cold. Only his round, fair little face was exposed. His caramel-colored eyes were earnest and serious, his rosy little mouth chattered away, and he looked adorably concerned for the people of the city.

"Count, you're so kind!" Toby cheered.

The tips of Cyrus's ears turned red, though his face remained composed. "Stop flattering me."

Toby gave a silly chuckle. "I'm not. The count really is kind."

Gibran pressed a hand over his burning, pounding chest. "Count, your heart is as pure and beautiful as Divine Flower Belanka."

Judas also said softly, "You are Desinia's glory."

Cyrus finally could not help burying his blushing face in the blanket. "Don't say any more. I don't have money to pay you."

Your compliments are deadly.

Ever since Komoy Fort lifted its order banning people from leaving the city, the commoners and slaves who had previously hesitated, watched from the sidelines, or even believed Visas's notices about recruitment and tax reductions were false began regretting it bitterly.

As the days passed, the contrast became increasingly obvious.

Every day, every moment, news flowed into Komoy Fort—how good life in Visas was, how very, very well the commoners and slaves lived there.

Six days of work and one day of rest. The copper coins they earned were surprisingly no fewer than before, and sometimes they could even eat meat.

Not to mention those who became soldiers. They did not need to worry about food or lodging at all, could even receive monthly allowances to support their families, and had recently been issued stoves and thick quilts.

Their mouths, hearts, and stomachs all felt sour as though they had eaten lemons.

Today, another piece of news arrived.

Count Desinia had ordered the construction of a relief station in Visas. It was said to provide aid specifically for those unable to survive the harsh winter.

Moreover, people who had been to Visas said that the relief station had already taken in elderly people without family and children without parents, allowing them to safely make it through the entire winter.

Once the news was confirmed to be true, the vast Komoy Fort was like cold water slowly boiling in a pan of oil.

People's hearts stirred, as though an undercurrent was brewing. The more suppressed it appeared on the surface, the more earthshakingly fierce it would be when it erupted.

No one knew how many people regretted it until their intestines turned green.

Just how harsh was Gadayat's winter?

When heavy snow blanketed the land, commoners and slaves did not even dare close their eyes, afraid that the snowy night would take their souls if they were careless for even a moment.

If the earlier news concerned life, then the news brought today concerned survival.

They wanted to go to Visas so badly.

But although the order prohibiting people from leaving the city had been lifted, the knights guarding the gates were still strictly screening commoners who wanted to move into Visas.

As for the slaves, they were tightly watched by their estate owners. Without Visas's knights coming to buy people, even their freedom to enter and leave the estates was restricted.

Some unwilling commoners had people inquire whether Visas would recruit soldiers again and when recruitment would begin.

The answer they received was—Visas would recruit soldiers every summer.

There was no chance this year. They could wait until next year. Although they could not enlist, Visas welcomed people moving in at any time.

After news of the relief station spread, the elderly and orphans of Komoy Fort left without the slightest attachment.

They were not valued, and even the inspections were carried out carelessly.

Because of this, Komoy Fort's commoners also began trying every possible way to leave.

They would rather abandon some things that they needed but that were too large and heavy, all to evade the knights' inspections. Commoners with large families left separately, while those with small families did not dare let down their guard. They had never been so cautious.

People tended to follow the crowd. Seeing commoners and slaves alike longing for Visas, some small estate owners also began considering moving there.

But they did not dare say so openly, afraid of offending Count Bevis Elliot. Besides, all their property was in Komoy Fort, so they simply could not move away as they pleased.

Half a month later.

Bevis Elliot suddenly discovered that Komoy Fort had become much more desolate.

His instincts told him something was wrong, so he sent knights into the city to investigate.

Only then did he discover that many houses in the city stood empty. The commoners living inside had vanished without reason. Though furniture and such had been left behind, certain important belongings were missing. Several places were like this in a row.

If Bevis Elliot still failed to realize what was happening.

Then he was an idiot.

No, he was not much better than one now.

Cyrus Desinia had practically pried away nearly half the commoners in his city!

Yet despite all his precautions, he had not stopped even a single hair. Only after people had nearly all left did he discover that his territory was gradually becoming cold and desolate, the streets carrying an indescribable bleakness.

Bevis Elliot was nearly driven mad with rage.

He shouted and screamed in the castle to vent his anger, smashing quite a few things with loud crashes.

The butler did not dare step forward to stop him. Only after he calmed down slightly did the butler slowly say, "My lord, perhaps we should lower taxes as well and imitate Desinia's methods..."

Bevis Elliot raised his head, his eyes red-rimmed, and gritted out, "How are we supposed to imitate him?!"

"That Desinia brat has enormous profits from salt sales supporting him. What do we have?! After lowering taxes, where will the castle's income come from?!"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?!"

"N-No, of course not..." The butler lowered his head in terror.

Bevis Elliot kicked the chair again in frustration.

He regretted not sending more knights back then to kill that hateful brat completely. Now the brat kept causing him trouble, lodged in his heart like a sharp fishbone.

A vicious glint flashed through Bevis Elliot's eyes as he ordered the butler, "Prepare writing paper."

He was going to send a letter to Duke Bass Riches.