Chapter 729: Chapter 48 Notice_2 Chapter 729: Chapter 48 Notice_2 …
Compared to the first two announcents, the third announcent seed less urgent.
The third announcent had no title and read as follows:
[Order for each village and town to select representatives of public opinion, to prepare for travel to Revodan to attend the “Grievance Petition eting,” with specific tis to be notified separately.
The new governnt hopes to investigate the hardships of the people of Iron Peak County, and the travel and accommodation expenses of the representatives will be provided by the new governnt.]
The announcent essentially contained two points: one was to convene representatives for a petition and grievance eting, and the other was a guarantee to reimburse food and lodging expenses.
Talking about consultation etings, the commoners of Iron Peak County couldn’t understand. But when it ca to a “Grievance Petition eting,” the elderly who had lived under the authority of the emperor all understood.
The latter point seed rather silly and laughable, but it was a strong suggestion made by the tobacco trader [Old Priskin].
…
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The three announcents were short, and the old gentleman finished reading them quickly, prompting the townsfolk around him to start chattering animatedly.
“Read it again, good sir!” So latecors jeered: “We arrived late!”
The old gentleman slightly furrowed his brows, cleared his throat, and began to read from the beginning once more.
The latecors listened attentively. The three announcents were brief and straightforward, using simple words and grammar that were so colloquial they bordered on “vulgar.”
To draft these three announcents, Winters had racked his brains. Without Bard around, he didn’t even have a qualified scribe by his side.
When he had a splitting headache, Winters had a mont of inspiration and ca up with an ultimate solution:
He called over six illiterate old farrs and read the drafted announcents to them; if the farrs couldn’t understand or found ambiguities, he would revise them, continuing until at least five of the six could understand.
For example, the sentence “Herder scouts of the Terdon Tribe are touching the Iron Peak County border” was revised over and over until it finally beca “The barbarians are going to kill their way over here.”
After the old gentleman read it for the second ti, people caused a ruckus once again, asking for another repeat. The old gentleman ignored them and walked away shaking his head.
The townspeople’s discussions grew even more fervent.
The farrs were concerned about the wheat jointing, while the fishern and rchants were concerned about the militia—since Shovel Port already had a militia, the Grievance Petition eting, for the ti being, was of little concern to anyone.
“Mayor Botar is here!” Soone announced loudly: “Make way, make way!”
The crowd parted to make a path for a broad-shouldered, tall Dusack man with a somber face to walk up to the announcents.
Dusack Botar, as both the mayor of Shovel Port Town and the acting Garrison Officer, was in other words, the actual ruler of Shovel Port in the political system of the Newly Reclaid Lands Province.
He did not reside in the town, but in the fortress-like “Botar Manor.”
Adult Dusacks, regardless of their status, had already been conscripted. However, no one knew what ans Mayor Botar had used to keep himself off the conscription list.
The townspeople held their breath and watched in complete silence as Mayor Botar walked up to the church doors and ripped off the three announcents.
Botar stood on the steps, crumpled the three announcents into a ball of waste paper, and scolded with glaring eyes:
“Trampling over the wheat seedlings? It’s all fucking nonsense! It’s the rebel leaders who are trying to harm you!”
“Barbarians coming? Shovel Lake is to the west of Shovel Port! Barbarians coming? Nonsense!”
“A militia? Does it need the rebels to worry about? We in Shovel Port have had a militia for a long ti!”
“Fellow villagers, let tell you! A militia? Bullshit! The rebels want to conscript you into their army!”
“Disperse now!”
The crowd left sheepishly.
Seeing that his goal was accomplished, Mayor Botar imdiately signaled his followers to bring his horse over.
He carefully tucked the crumpled “waste paper” of the three announcents into his chest and leapt onto his horse, dashing towards Botar Manor outside of town.
As one of the first settlers, when Botar was resettled in Iron Peak County, small bands of barbarians crossing the river to raid were common occurrences; isolated new immigrants were often slaughtered.
Therefore, Botar Manor was constructed with the feel of a fortress from the beginning—a ditch, walls, and none other than a sturdy stone house that was truly the main keep of a castle.
Seeing the lord returning, the tenant farrs guarding the manor’s gate hurriedly lowered the drawbridge.
Botar rode into the manor without breaking pace, and the drawbridge was slowly raised again.
Compared to other villages and towns that had beco dilapidated due to war, Botar Manor was thriving.
Around the manor, whether it was wasteland or farmland, all had been reclaid, with wheat seedlings growing lush.
Early on, when tenant farrs and hired workers from other villages and towns fled, Botar joined with the landowners of Shovel Port to control the landless peasants of their town.
Latterly, he gathered the refugees from other places, distributing food to them. The refugees respectfully called him “Lord Botar, the Benevolent.”
Botar didn’t spare his horse, galloping all the way to the castle-like house. He asked his eldest son bluntly, “Where is Mr. Alpha?”
“Upstairs,” Botar’s eldest son replied anxiously.
Botar threw the reins to his son and rushed into the house, running upstairs to the small drawing room on the second floor.
There were no others in the small drawing room, only a young man.
The young man was leaning by the window, reading a letter. He wore a pale green hunting suit with a plain small sword hanging from his belt.
Just by his facial features, the young man could not be considered handso.
But his smile was so affable that it naturally made people fond of him. Moreover, his physique was impressive—his fingers were slender and his limbs were both sturdy and well-proportioned.
Botar’s youngest daughter and several young maids were already smitten with this “Mr. Alpha.”
Upon seeing Botar hurrying upstairs, Mr. Alpha put away the letter and began with a smile, “Tomorrow evening, another shipnt of weapons and gunpowder will arrive at Shovel Lake.”
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