Chapter 1285 - 1205:
The raindrops pitter-pattered against the wooden window, soaking the window frame of The Windmill Independent Report building in dark hues.
Leia put down his pen, pinching the bridge of his nose, while staring at the manuscript in thought.
The only sounds were the rain and the creaking of the hand-cranked printing press downstairs.
After a long contemplation, he opened his eyes, lifted his head, and gazed through the waterlogged wooden window, looking toward the sea.
On the last day of September, 1459, the rain had been falling for three days in Dam City.
The lead-gray clouds pressed down heavily, dyeing both the sea and the inner river the same color.
At the docks, five black cargo ships with red holy chalice flags just finished unloading.
The deck was wet, with remnants of oats and rye stuck in the crevices.
Right next to these remnants, several vampire soldiers in red uniforms were instructing local militia to load bags of grain onto the carriages.
Leia recalled that ever since the Royal Court’s invasion, there had been five ships of grain daily, without interruption.
He remembered clearly the state of the Port District in Dam City a month ago—
The streets filled with robbing vagrants, abandoned houses piled high with unprocessed corpses.
Yet now, the streets were empty, devoid of beggars and vagrants, free from filth, corpses, and garbage.
What could be seen now were patrols.
The units largely consisted of two or three vampire soldiers leading three to five locally recruited militia, essentially replacing the security functions of the night watch.
In two months, these vampires not only refrained from any brutal actions in Dam City but were exceedingly amicable.
Seventeen gangs, 2,340 bandits, wiped out in two months.
As for the vagrants, they resurfaced every morning, disappeared by nightfall, whereabouts unknown.
Many Windmill City folk actually understood but clapped anyway.
This group that robbed their work and possessions and even harassed their women, were better off dead.
Being blood bags for the vampires was at least a productive use.
As for the plague, since the vampires arrived, it miraculously vanished like melting snow.
The vampires explained it as the power of necromantic magic, but Leia believed that they’d concocted the plague themselves.
Leia harbored complex feelings towards the vampires.
At heart, he disliked vampires, with their predation on humans, they were the natural enemies of humanity.
Theoretically, reconciliation between the two was impossible.
Yet frustratingly, compared to the Falan and Leia, the Royal Court seemed to be the relatively better ruler.
Not to mention security, let’s talk about food prices.
The current price had dropped to 1 Dinar for seven pounds of bread.
The rate of decline was as fast as speculators jumping from rooftops.
Leia had to admit, they did a splendid job.
However, after several hundred years, was Windmill City to fall under vampire rule again?
"Knock-knock-knock—"
The urgent knock from downstairs interrupted Leia’s train of thought.
But the moment he heard it, he knew Matteis was back.
He put down his pen and stepped down the creaking wooden stairs.
Others in the newsroom had already opened the door for Matteis.
He stood on the doormat, his hair and shoulders drenched with rain, clinging to him.
Yet he still carried a huge oil paper package.
"Mr. Leia!" He placed the oil paper package on the table, "Guess what? The food prices are down again!
Now 1 Dinar can buy nine pounds of oats, almost the same as before the plague.
Too bad there’s no bread, just raw oats you have to cook at home, but better than chewing on potato starch."
"It’s good to have food."
"Yeah, two months ago, you couldn’t hope for oats, even potato starch was scarce."
Leia grabbed a handful of oats, rubbing them between his fingers. The grains were plump, not mixed with sand.
Better than a lot of speculative grain sold before the plague.
Just as he was about to speak, Matteis pulled a gold-embossed invitation from his coat and handed it over.
"Mr. Leia, Governor Arkadra from the City Hall asked me to give you this." Wiping rain from his face, Matteis spoke with some anxiety, "He invited you to the governor’s residence for a meeting tomorrow morning."
Holding the invitation, Leia reluctantly tossed it on the table.
This tactic from the Royal Court was familiar to him.
When they occupied the Border Knight domain, they invited local gentry, Workshop Masters, and other local talents.
Giving them titles as City Affairs Advisers, endowing some power, using locals to stabilize the situation.
Leia’s reputation was well-known; he could almost be considered the local religious leader of Dam City, naturally catching the governor’s eye.
However, Leia felt quite conflicted; he didn’t mention whether he’d go, instead asking Matteis: "Did you notice anything at the port today?"
Matteis pulled a chair and sat down, drinking a cup of hot water: "How could I not? Two big ships came this morning, didn’t stop.
They unloaded vampire soldiers, turned into river barges, and continued eastward.
I didn’t dare look too much, they’re surely heading east, along the Nao’an River."
Leia sat down slowly, pondering.
Since two months ago, the Falan people knew the Royal Court occupied Dam City, and became particularly enraged.
They joined forces with Leia, organized two armies. Two months of fury had doubled into intense rage.
Unfortunately, despite their fury, there hadn’t been any troop movements, just stationed at the border.
The Royal Court surely knew this, hence the continuous inland reinforcement, seeking to act first.
"Mr. Leia," Matteis asked quietly, "Can the Falan win?"
He asked cautiously, even when the Falan were present they weren’t particularly nice to Windmill City folk, but they were at least human.
Separate from opportunistic speculators.
Leia shook his head: "Don’t rush, we’ll know then."
"And what does the Holy Alliance say, any news?"
"Just on time." Leia pulled out the latest newspaper, "The Truth Report issued a stern condemnation against the Royal Court."
"Condemnation? How’s the condemnation?" Matteis perked up.
"Don’t think about it; they’re not engaging, just condemning the vampire massacres against the vagrants..."
Matteis’ excitement dimmed slightly: "What about my brother’s side then..."
"Not a move." Leia said with slight sarcasm, "Even when beating a dog you consider its master, the Holy Alliance remains neutral, so he won’t move, don’t worry."
Matteis’ expression turned complex, unsure of what to say, finally he pursued: "Then will you accept the governor’s invitation?"
Leia leaned back in the wicker chair, gazing out at the rain.
The rain continued falling, red holy chalice flags atop the governor’s roof fluttered in the rain like burning blood.
"Just drag it out, say I’m sick, with a fever, and can’t go."
"Yes! Say that!" a chief editor immediately agreed and set down the scissors, "If the Falan wins, having relations with the Royal Court would be awkward, better to delay and assess the situation first."
Another editor nodded, "True, trust no one now, wait for whichever side prevails, then we pick."
The restive finger scratched the gap in the wicker chair.
Why do Windmill City people always think they must align with someone, either Falan, the Royal Court, or the Holy Alliance?
He suddenly thought of Jill, the Royal Court previously attempted to have Jill submit.
Jill flatly rejected them, saying "The Black Legion belongs only to Windmill City people."
In this, he rather admired Jill, despite their differing political views.
"Why do we keep thinking about relying on others?" Leia’s gentle voice silenced the room.