Chapter 1306 - 1224: Lend a Brother a Hand
News of Matil’s defeat quickly spread throughout the entire Senor County.
Along with it came the news of the Holy Alliance launching an unannounced massive invasion.
Senor County and Red Sand County face each other across the river, originally with many garrison troops stationed at the border.
Where did dozens of outposts and small castles with at least more than ten thousand troops go?
The Lightning Witch, Jeanne D’Arc, true to her name, stormed into Senor County like lightning.
It took hardly any time before she was almost at the capital of Senor County, Wood Ruler City.
Upon receiving news, the residents of Wood Ruler City either fled early or hurried home to bury their money.
They were fully prepared to welcome the impending arrival of the Holy Alliance Army.
But to the local residents’ surprise, they waited and waited, but the mass entry of the Holy Alliance Army never came.
It wasn’t until evening that troops were seen occupying key fortresses and transportation hubs in nearby streets.
The residents dared not leave their homes, only peeking out through door cracks, beside walls, or from window sides to observe the streets.
The sunset, like a rainbow, shone on the polished paving stones.
These Holy Alliance soldiers wore simple grey-blue knee-length turn-up coats, unlike the flamboyant Imperial soldiers.
Their pants were fitted straight-legged trousers, with the hem tied to socks with leggings.
As for the shoes on their feet, they made many local young male citizens’ eyes shine brightly in amazement.
Ordinary soldiers wore mid-cut black leather boots covering the ankle, while sergeants and officers wore long boots covering the mid-calf.
As per the Pope’s directive that "military boots must be boots," the Holy Alliance’s boots were standardized.
Multiple layers of cowhide bonded with slime glue formed the sole, nailed with shoe nails and iron heels, and the surface was made of goat or cow leather.
The soldiers who entered the city were those with good reputations, specially requested by officers to polish their shoes to shine brightly.
The soldiers walked in rows of four, carrying black spring guns and wearing uniform boat-shaped helmets, marching down the black-grey streets.
Their boots reflected the light, lifting high and dropping crisply, orderly and powerful.
It can only be said to possess both mechanical beauty and numerical beauty.
So-called mechanical beauty is beauty in shape.
And numerical beauty is beauty in price.
This kind of military boot is sold by many local footwear merchants, each pair priced at 12 Dinars.
Almost equivalent to a Holy Alliance laborer’s two weeks’ wages, a month’s salary for an Imperial laborer.
Back then, when Solaini challenged purchasing power in the Holy Alliance, there was still some suspense.
If he challenged laborers’ purchasing power in the Empire, there would be no suspense, certainly impossible to achieve.
Because an Imperial laborer’s wage cannot cover one’s food, clothing, and other needs; they are required to work multiple jobs, steal, rob, and borrow.
This is also the reason for the local young male citizens’ envy—their New Year’s wish for many is to buy a pair of these boots.
But the boots most of them cannot bear to buy are now being vigorously stomped on by Holy Alliance soldiers.
Not only vigorously stomped but they even have a spare pair, just hanging on the knapsack behind them.
Many local young men are breaking down.
Mad, why wasn’t I born in the Thousand River Valley? If I were born in the Thousand River Valley, would I be in this miserable state?
Mad, why wasn’t the Saint’s Grandson born in Immortal Stone Field? If the Saint’s Grandson was born in Immortal Stone Field, would I be in this miserable state?
You know, these boots sell for 4-5 Dinars a pair in the Holy Alliance’s inner county regions, with a procurement price for the military at 3-3.5 Dinars per pair!
An ordinary young laborer from Thousand River Valley can barely buy a pair after saving for a month.
This price has turned the shoe merchant in Wood Ruler City into middlemen, leading to the dissolution of the shoemaking guild.
The reason is simple, a pair of Holy Alliance leather boots costs 6 Dinars wholesale, sells for 12 Dinars, netting a profit of 6 Dinars.
A pair of locally-made leather boots handed over to shoe merchants costs 8 to 10 Dinars, selling for at most 4 Dinars profit.
Each pair profits 2 Dinars, equating to a loss of 1 pound for every 60 pairs, a loss of 10 pounds for every 600 pairs.
For merchants, a loss is as good as a deficit, especially with so much as 10 pounds!
Normally, the shoemaking guild would certainly resist, just like when the Holy Alliance’s clothing was sold in Leia, prompting widespread smuggling resistance.
But the shoemakers in Wood Ruler City are surprisingly quiet.
One, according to the "Wolfbridge Treaty," Leia must fully open its market to the Holy Alliance, leaving them no reason to resist.
Two, the head of the middlemen in Wood Ruler City is Count Matil; they cannot resist.
It’s ironically abstract that Matil, while calling for resistance against the Holy Alliance within Leia’s noble circles, is also frantically selling goods for the Holy Alliance.
This really leaves many local Holy Sect Brotherhood members scratching their heads, uncertain whether he is an enemy or a friend.
However, there is no mystery now.
When the drunken and furious Count Matil led over eight hundred Night Guard and mercenary knights, along with seven Extraordinary Knights, straight into the ten-thousand-man camp of Jeanne, his identity was clear.
He is neither an enemy nor a friend, he is just a nobody.
Only, Count Matil can no longer hear the grievances of the citizens of Wood Ruler City.
The Count is now sober, huddled inside the inner castle of Wood Ruler City, frantically sending messages to Fishing City.
Almost every hour, packed full of Count Matil’s earnest pleas to Duke Dae to lend a brotherly hand.
For now, he still has a castle, can withstand for ten days to half a month, it’s not time to give up yet.
With this belief, Count Matil refuses to cooperate despite the Holy Alliance’s persuasion to surrender throughout the night.
As morning arrives, even citizens who wanted to lurk at home to avoid facing the terrifying soldiers had no choice but to venture out.
After all, they need to eat, and in this era, there is no refrigerator.
Yet astonishingly, as they stepped out and arrived on the streets.
On the avenue paved with stone, there were no soldiers stopping people to extort or rob, nor officers cursing or drinking loudly.
Quite a few soldiers, even under the command of priests in black robes, were cleaning the streets.
Piles of dust, leaves, and horse and cow dung were gathered together, and the soldiers relayed it into garbage trucks.
Although there were occasional verbal exchanges and conflicts between soldiers and local citizens, these were mostly stopped by officers and priests.
At the vegetable market street or shop entrances, there were priests preaching in the central square.
Preaching for the Holy Sect and explaining the war was part of it, but more importantly, they set clear rules to quickly restore order and daily life.
The citizens who came and went were long accustomed to the behavior of the Holy Alliance priests.
Whoever occupies the city will surely claim themselves as righteous, reassuring citizens about their lives.
They say so, but how they actually do it is never explained.
So the final part of the priests’ preaching somewhat eased the minds of many local citizens.
After all, they’ve explained what to do; surely they won’t slap themselves in the face?
After witnessing a day, local citizens at the vegetable market street started discussing while buying bread.
Dressed in coarse cloaks, wearing aprons, casually gathered here and there, thinking the Holy Alliance priests wouldn’t notice.
"Is this still an army? I’m wondering."
"They don’t seem scary; I teased them a bit and made them blush."
"How did such a military defeat Count Matiel?"
In the citizens’ eyes, a powerful army must be brutal, and how can one be brave without being brutal?
But these soldiers surprised them; not only were they not brutal, but they were somewhat shy and overly gentle.
This was partly because the entering troops were specifically chosen as good soldiers.
If it were those troublemakers or old xenophobic soldiers coming in, major incidents might not happen, but annoying minor conflicts would certainly persist.
Thus, the devout authorities sent the good soldiers into the city despite complaints from the old soldiers.
Regarding the garrison and accommodation arrangements, the Holy Alliance left a very good impression on the citizens.
A friendly priest would first knock on the door to liaise with the innkeeper, attempting to book the entire inn.
Then the regiment clerk and finance officer would appear, haggling enthusiastically with the innkeeper like ordinary travelers.
As for the original guests at the inn, they would be cleared out, but the finance officer would compensate them with double the lodging fee.
"No wonder the Holy Alliance is so wealthy," many vegetable market street folks couldn’t help but marvel.
Yet some wise folks still sneered: "Forget it, Falan is much wealthier than the Holy Alliance, their soldiers will still rob when needed."
"Oh, that’s different..."
Outside the discussions on vegetable market street, similar discussions took place in taverns or cafes.
"Have you heard? Outside a few manors, five nobles were publicly tried and hanged?" A notary sneaked a peek as he opened his mouth.
Several local merchants widened their eyes: "So quickly? Didn’t they resist?"
"How to resist when the local public register farmers and armed farmers couldn’t wait for their lord’s death?" The notary sneered, "I’ve heard that City Hall is going to be reorganized, all replaced with Holy Sect personnel."
"Damn, it lets those vendors benefit."
"When it comes to winning over the common folk, the Holy Alliance does have a knack."
"Being a country established by commoners, they know exactly which tricks fool the ignorant folks."
The few well-dressed patrons in the cafe began to complain.
After all, in Leia’s economic situation, the nobility are always the biggest consumers and employers.
Old merchants have long been accustomed to leeching off the nobility, struggling to adapt to the Holy Alliance’s competitive market economy.
These discussions continued from dawn until nine or ten o’clock, yet they resulted in nothing substantial.
As the middle class citizens left the tavern, they encountered soldiers lined up to maintain order by the roadside.
Did something happen?
They felt a sense of delight, tucked the newspapers under their arms, and squeezed over pretending to see what had changed.
"Excuse me, make way."
"What’s happening?"
The soldiers in the front row were friendly, glanced over and spoke: "Please step back, fellow believers, large machinery is passing through, to avoid innocent injury."
Large machinery?
Before the middle class citizens could comprehend the words, they noticed the sunlight was blocked by something, casting a shadow over their heads.
Looking up, their bodies froze.
Pulled by twelve horses, a forty-eight-pound cannon carriage led the way, crushing the road forward.
And behind it, more forty-eight-pound cannons and twenty-four-pound cannons, all siege cannons.
Immediately, a circle of "tsk tsk" sounds arose beside them.
Once the entire cannon brigade passed, the crowd naturally dispersed, but many still standing with newspapers tucked under their arms remained.
They had long heard of the power of spring cannons.
However, the largest cannon they had seen was only a twelve-pound cannon.
Could Count Matiel’s castle really withstand the cannonballs fired by such behemoths?
This answer was revealed in the evening.
On the evening of February 11, 1460, the Wooden Ruler Castle was bombarded and collapsed by the Holy Alliance’s spring cannons.
The next morning, the troops continued their march.
The target was Fishing City.