Chapter 431 Household registration! Divide the land!
In the chaotic yet solemn atmosphere, the work of registering the identities of the hungry people began.
The next morning, at the soup kitchen outside Quemu Castle, there was a strange checkpoint in front of the big pot of wheat porridge.
It was a table made of two wooden boxes. A Salvation Army soldier sat behind it, holding a quill instead of a spear in his hand.
He had an accounting book spread out in front of him, and his face looked like he was facing an enemy. He looked even more nervous than the soldiers on the castle.
The same goes for old Hank standing in front of the table.
He held the broken wooden bowl in his hand and staggered to the table. He didn't know which play these soldiers were going to sing.
He just wants to eat.
Looking at Hank walking towards him, the soldier straightened his expression and spoke in a businesslike tone.
"Name?"
"Han, Hank!" Old Hank stood up straight and responded like a report.
"Village?"
"Village, village?"
"That's where you used to live!"
"Wheatfield Village..."
The soldier was silent for a while, tapped his quill on the table, and looked up at Old Hank.
logdie\over to Old Hank was dumbfounded.
For most of his life, he knew himself only as Hank, a name he inherited from his late grandfather.
No one told him how to write this character?
"How did I know...me, that's my name anyway!" His head was sweating in a hurry, for fear that if he couldn't write his name, he wouldn't be able to eat the bowl of porridge.
The soldier in charge of registration also had a troubled expression. He looked at the anxious Hank and the commotion and didn't know what to do.
He also didn’t know how to spell his own name until recently. How could he know how to spell other people’s names?
The two people stared at each other, one was eager to eat, the other was eager to complete the task, and the scene fell into a deadlock for a while.
At this moment, a thin man with a gentle look squeezed to the front and whispered to them.
"Sir...that, I know how to write."
He was probably very hungry and couldn't wait any longer, so he took the initiative to stand up.
The soldier heard this and felt as if he had been granted amnesty. He turned the account book around in surprise and pushed it in front of the man.
「It’s done...」
The soldier took the account and took a look. He saw that the handwriting was beautiful and neat, with smooth lines. It didn't look like a farmer's name at all. He couldn't help but look at the man suspiciously.
"Is this really his name?"
The gentle man was stunned for a moment, confused by this question, and said in a confused voice.
"This... I don't know what his real name is, anyway, that's how it's written as 'Hank'."
"My name is Hank!" Old Hank blushed and declared again.
…” The gentle man did not speak. He only felt that he was sandwiched between a chicken and a duck.
The soldier had an idea.
"Write me another "Slok"."
The gentle man immediately did as he was told and wrote another name on the account book handed over by the soldier.
The soldier knew this name, because it was his own name. Not long ago, he learned how to write this word from a caravan clerk, but the ghostly talisman that looked like a dog chewing was completely incomparable with the "artwork" in front of him.
I didn’t expect my name to be so beautiful when written, and the soldier liked it so much that he wished he could copy it several times and imprint the painting in his mind.
Of course, this can be done after the work is over.
Looking at the man who wanted to retreat back into the team, he quickly grabbed the man's shoulder and said with a smile.
“Come and register for me! I’ll teach you what to do! Don’t worry about getting the porridge, just follow us to eat!”
「Yes, yes!」
How dare he say no?
But I thought that I had nothing to do anyway, and this army that had changed its flag seemed to be not bad either, so I sat in the seat vacated by the soldiers and cooperated with the registration process.
With the help of this suspected cultural man, the team finally moved forward faster.
The impatient old Hank also received his porridge as he wished, and he also had an engraved wooden sign in his hand.
That was the "identification tag" that the soldiers handed him after he completed the registration. There was a line of words scrawled on it, including his name, the village where he lived, and the serial number.
According to the soldiers, there is no need to register from tomorrow. Instead, you will receive food according to your identity card.
To be honest, he quite likes this "ornament" with his name engraved on it.
Squatting in a corner of the camp, Old Hank took a sip from the bowl full of wheat porridge and mumbled something vaguely in his mouth.
… It turns out that my name is so beautiful.”
On the other side, the registration line came to the end, and the gentle man finally received his food.
Besides the porridge, there was also a piece of bacon as a reward for his work.
He thanked him and was about to leave, but the soldier stopped him.
"Wait a minute, your name hasn't been written yet."
Hearing that his name was to be registered, a moment of panic flashed across the man's face. After hesitating for a long time, he whispered.
"Why are you registering this?"
The soldier did not hide anything and said straightforwardly.
"This is what the Holy Lady means. Firstly, it is to facilitate management, and secondly, it is to allow you to return to your original village in an orderly manner."
"...Go back?"
"That's right, staying here is not an option. The land around the castle can't support that many people."
Didn't you drive us here?
This is like breaking a person's leg and then giving him a crutch.
The man cursed in his heart, but did not dare to say it in person. He only expressed other concerns in his heart.
“But what about famine?”
The soldier said with a smile.
"Her Majesty the Holy Lady is trying to solve this problem! In order to avoid missing the window period for spring plowing, we must restore the abandoned farmland as soon as possible... Don't worry, we will not let you go hungry during this period, and we will ensure the supply of food."
The man nodded, feeling a little relieved. After much hesitation, he finally wrote his name on the account book.
He did not believe in those demons wearing green turbans, but he was the one who helped the priests copy scriptures. In the end, he still had faith and awe in his heart. He believed in Saint Sis, and also believed in Her Highness the Holy Lady and the oracle she spoke.
As long as he is not drawing up a list for the sake of settling accounts in the future, he seems to have nothing to be afraid of...
Just trust them again.
…
Although Old Hank's registration went smoothly, not every old farmer is as lucky as him.
Except for a neatly written accounting book handed over to the Slok registration point, most of the registration points handed over a ghost-drawing talisman that was more obscure than a magic book.
Within harmony there must be confusion.
Faced with the impossible task explained above, the soldiers turned a blind eye and went about their business. The hungry people lining up to receive porridge also drew their names twice with a pen.
By the way, due to his clever performance at work, the soldier named Slok has been promoted to centurion under the exception, responsible for managing the hastily established household registration department.
There are only two people in the entire department now, one is Slock himself, and the other is a hungry man who is responsible for copying for him... It is said that that person used to be a monk in the church and was responsible for copying scriptures.
The monk is very courageous if he dares to stand up and help at this time. After all, just a week ago, those guys in green turbans were a group of "ogres" who threatened to slaughter all the castles and churches. Converting to the Holy Light seems like just yesterday.
In the military tent, the atmosphere was mixed.
The officers of the Salvation Army seem to be divided into two groups. One group is the "Homecoming Faction" who support Her Majesty the Holy Lady. Most of them are farmers, and they are extremely supportive of the Holy Lady's decision to allocate fields to everyone.
After all, they started the incident just to divide the land of the nobles. They just focused on robbing the land with a red eye, but they forgot the original purpose.
As for the other faction, it is the "Decisive Faction" who are still loyal to Kailan's will.
But rather than saying that they are loyal to Kelan, it is better to say that they are loyal to reality. After all, any general with a strategic vision knows that till the end of the war, farming is meaningless.
Three cavalrymen rushed over and set a fire, and they could completely destroy the land cultivated by three hundred people with their hard work and sweat. Without stable order, production is impossible.
This metaphor may be a bit exaggerated, but it is not crude. When they first fought guerrillas, they often set fire to the granaries of the nobles. These granaries are said to belong to nobles, but they are basically located in various villages. The ownership cannot be explained clearly in one sentence.
“This is nonsense!” A captain couldn’t help but slapped the table and spat. “We are here to attack the city, not to play tricks! What have we been doing outside the castle for so long? I dare to fight. Bet, the earl in the castle is just laughing at us for not being able to build a ladder or a battering ram!"
Facing the captain's anger, Brennan said nothing, but quietly waited for Kallen's reaction.
He was also very hesitant.
At yesterday's meeting, he actually wanted to ask about the siege, but he didn't find a chance to speak until the end.
On the one hand, he thought Kallen's idea was a good one. He had been thinking about the future of the brothers a long time ago, but to be honest, he didn't have any ideas himself. Before he became the leader of the Green Forest Army, he was just a hunter. He learned how to lead soldiers and fight. Managing a piece of land... He hadn't even started doing this yet.
On the other hand, he felt that continuing like this was not an option. After all, Earl Theron's castle is still there. Although kindness can unite people's hearts, it can only unite people's hearts and cannot replace force.
Pairs of eyes looked at Karen, or at the god behind her.
They are waiting for a new oracle.
Kallen's eyes were calmer than ever before. Everything was just as Mr. Colin said. As their strength gradually expanded, they were no longer satisfied with patiently waiting for God's gift, and their originally dim ambitions were about to start.
That is human desire.
After all, they really have an army of 100,000 people now, and mobilizing another 100,000 cannon fodder is not a problem at all.
"The god never promised to take you to attack the city. He only promised to open the gate of the castle and not to tamper with your wishes. On the contrary, you promised to listen to me before our contract is completed."
Looking at the speechless captain, Kallen continued.
"Besides, I'm also willing to bet you that the count in the castle is definitely not laughing at us. He is more afraid than anyone now...even more than the soldiers under his command."
" You let them feel at ease," Karen looked at him calmly, "let them believe that the sword in your hands is not a tool to enslave them, but a weapon to defend them."
These words made the whole tent quiet.
The captain's throat seemed to be blocked and he couldn't speak a word.
On the other hand, Thomas's eyes lit up slightly as he stood aside, as if he had seen something wonderful, although his poor language could not describe what it was.
Saint Sisi, this sounds so wonderful!
The lord's sword should not be a tool to enslave his subjects, but a weapon to defend his subjects!
He has never heard any priest or lord actually say this sentence, but he hopes to write this sentence into the "Book of Holy Words"!
"...Let's discuss something practical."
The other captain who had been silent spoke slowly and turned his gaze to the saint who seemed to be glowing.
“I admit that your idea is good, but it is too difficult to implement. Not to mention the hungry people, and the brothers under my command, even I only recently knew how to write my own name, let alone the names of those villages. Some remote villages are not even called the names on the map. "
"This is indeed a problem," Karen nodded slightly, looking at the people around her, "and what I want to discuss with you today is exactly how to solve this problem."
Everyone exchanged glances with expressions of helplessness.
At this moment, Thomas, who had been silent, suddenly cleared his throat and stood up on his own initiative.
"I... am a businessman from the Kingdom of Rhodes. Logically speaking, I shouldn't get involved in your affairs, but I am a devout believer after all. I can't let my blood-connected brothers and feet fall into hell."
He paused at this and quickly got to the point.
"Many of the guys in my caravan can read and write, and handling accounts is our specialty. I can assist the officers in completing the registration work, including the paper and pen needed for the registration work... Let's find a way."
"Anyway, the soldiers also used his pen and paper, and he would still suffer from this depressing loss even if he didn't donate it.
It is better to say it here now. Instead, it can be regarded as a favor that can be taken back after the war is over.
If order can be restored in the Dusk Province, it will certainly be a good place to run.
Karien cast a grateful look at him.
"Thank you, the people of Dusk Province will remember your efforts for them."
After saying that, she looked at the pragmatic captain and continued. "Mr. Thomas can help you. More than that, his people can also teach you simple spelling. I know this is difficult, but for the sake of our future, I hope you can humbly learn from his people."
The pragmatic captain looked at Brennan silently. Seeing that the latter had no objection, he looked at Karen again and said in a deep voice.
“I have no opinion...”
Kallen nodded, and then turned his attention to Slok, the "Head of the Household Registration Department" standing in the corner of the tent.
Until yesterday, this Mr. Slock was just a big-head soldier, and he obviously did not expect that he would have the opportunity to stand in this tent.
"In addition to Thomas's caravan, I believe there must be literate people among our hungry people. They may have been shopkeepers who ran inns, or adventurers, or merchants who sold wood for the lord, or monks in the church... "
"They dare not reveal their identity out of fear, fearing that the knowledge they possess will lead to death. The first thing we have to do is to eliminate their fear and make them believe that we are not the destroyers of order, but the founders of a new order."
"In this way, they will naturally join our team one after another, just like the gentleman who assisted Sergeant Slock to complete the registration. In the future, we will not have to rely on others, and we can restore the order we destroyed with our own hands by our own strength."
This sentence touched Brennan so deeply that he fell into deep thought. Like the military meeting yesterday, he did not ask about the siege until the end.
Let's wait a little longer...
Perhaps as Her Royal Highness the Saint said, they can take down this castle without any bloodshed?
Furthermore, his thoughts are no longer on that castle, but floating further away.
He once firmly believed in the justice spoken by Kailan. As long as the castle and church were demolished, everything would be fine, but all he saw along the way seemed to be blood and death.
On the contrary, now, he saw colors in people's eyes that he had never seen before.
ˆ It seemed to be hope...
ˆ ˆ…
ˆ It was not just Brennan and the hungry people who saw hope, but also the soldiers standing on the city wall.
The siege has lasted for several months. The harsh winter did not starve the rebels outside, but instead allowed those rebels to wait for the light of Saint Sith before they did.
That was a rumor circulating in the army.
It is said that a saint was born among the rebels, and used "truth" to influence the murderous thugs, making them take off their damn green turbans and believe in Saint Sith again.
This is not surprising in itself. The farmers in the Kingdom of Lane are cunning and flexible creatures. Whoever gives them food is a saint, and in turn is a witch.
The soldiers on the city wall were not surprised by this incident, but they were worried about why Saint Sith chose a group of murderous thugs.
In their view, they are certainly the righteous party. After all, they only took away the food that belonged to the lords from the village, but they did not lift the lids of the farmers' pots, nor did they dig out the wheat chaff stuck on the walls.
The main reason is that they can't find the food that the farmers have hidden at home, but those green turbans who are farmers know very well where the good things from their neighbors are hidden.
A depressing atmosphere hangs over every besieged soldier.
Even if the priest in the castle told them that the so-called saint was just a village girl named by the rebels, even the priest could not explain where the food in the hands of the rebels came from.
It can’t be given by the devil, right?
That is too blasphemous.
It is worth mentioning that although the people in the castle are separated from the people outside the city by a moat, the information between them is not completely blocked, and they cannot be restricted by the officers' orders alone.
At first, when the rebels first surrounded the castle, both sides were prepared for a confrontation. However, as time passed, the castle could not be captured for a long time, and the rebels also adopted siege tactics, and this restriction became less strict.
Some soldiers would secretly throw stones wrapped in paper outside, and secretly donate the saved rations to family members, neighbors, and even old friends who could not hide in the castle.
However, recently the situation seems to be reversed.
The hungry people outside were no longer hungry. On the contrary, the soldiers on the castle could only gnaw on the cold and hard dry bread, watching the people outside making fire and cooking porridge, drooling with envy.
There is not much firewood in the castle, so it cannot be wasted on making fires for cooking. They are all supplies for the winter.
Regardless of which one is more nutritious, porridge or bread, of course it looks more delicious when eaten by others...
"Dear Camille, the "Pastor" of the Salvation Army recently started to teach us how to write. The pastor helped me write this letter, but the name of the signature was written by myself. Isn't it nice?
In addition, please don't worry about me, we are the most We are no longer hungry. The soldiers you call rebels registered our names and decided to send us back to our original hometown in batches and let us start farming the land there again. They also said that the land will belong to us in the future and we will no longer have to work for the lord. As for the seeds, they will find a way and we only need to focus on our own lives.
I really hope the war will end soon. I miss the old days so much. At that time, we were lying together on the big haystacks, basking in the sun, drinking pumpkin porridge and milky white fish soup made by my mother. Do you remember that I said I would make it for you? I never forgot.
—Judy waiting for you to come home. "
Sitting on the top of the city, a soldier named James was looking at the crumpled letter in his hand, with a complicated expression on his face.
His name is not Camille, and he does not know Judy. He just happens to know how to spell because his family has worked for the lord for generations.
As for this letter, he picked it up while patrolling. It was wrapped outside a piece of hard bread, and a bribe copper coin was stuffed inside... It seemed that he wanted to bribe the person who picked up the letter.
Of course he couldn't be bribed with a mere copper coin and take huge risks to find someone named Camille, but he still couldn't help but feel confused in his heart... "Pastor? How could those rebels have a priest?" He muttered in a low voice and read and reread the not-so-long letter in his hand. He could no longer tell whether he was convincing himself or remembering the good times that had passed.
Before the army of chaos approached Brass Pass, their life had been very good.
No one goes hungry.
No one dies because of another person’s ambition.
At that time, he never thought that before fighting the demons of hell and chaos, he would one day fight with the people in his hometown.
「What are you doing?」
A majestic voice came from behind, startling James who was immersed in the letter.
He subconsciously wanted to hide the letter, but met the knight commander's stern gaze.
Without any hesitation, he immediately stood up straight and reported faithfully.
"Sir, I picked up a letter!"
"Give it to me!"
"Yes!"
James tremblingly handed over the letter in his hand, while silently praying for the soldier named Camille.
The knight commander finished reading the letter in his hand with a dark face, and read the words in the letter again and again. However, to James' surprise, he did not have an attack, and just put the letter away silently.
「Where did you pick it up?」
James swallowed and pointed to the battlement next to him. The battlements faced a rugged slope with trees and bushes growing on it, making it difficult for the sentry tower to see it.
"It's near here...it may have been shot by a slingshot."
The knight commander nodded and said expressionlessly.
"Continue patrolling and don't miss any movement. If you pick up anything again, give it to me as soon as possible."
James breathed a sigh of relief and said respectfully.
…………
On the other side, Camille’s letter went through several twists and turns and reached the hands of Commander Leden Knight.
Seeing this letter, the loyal knight did not hesitate and immediately came to the Lord's Hall and handed it to Count Theron Gard who was pacing back and forth on the red carpet.
After reading the letter in his hand, Theron's lips turned white with anger and his shoulders trembled.
Finally, he crumpled the letter in his hand into a ball and threw it on the ground, furious.
Your soldier did nothing wrong. We can't punish him because someone wrote to him. He didn't even pick up the letter! The morale in the castle is already low. If we mess up the situation, it will only give the rebels outside an opportunity!"
Although Earl Theron is not a lord who is good at management, he is a person who listens to advice.
He obviously realized this, there was no point in venting his anger on an insignificant soldier.
Even, this may be a trick of the rebels, and it is not certain whether this Camille exists.
The heaving of his chest gradually subsided, and he waved his hand to signal the guards who were preparing to take action to return to their original positions.
However, the anger gathering in his chest did not dissipate.
He couldn't figure out how the hungry people outside were fed, and how many forces outside were sponsoring this stupid and meaningless uprising, providing them with both food and weapons.
"...I didn't expect these rebels to be so vicious and thought of dividing the land." No matter whether they fulfilled their promise in the end, this promise was enough to drive the mud-legged people who followed them crazy.
"That's what I'm worried about. The letter in your hand is probably just the tip of the iceberg that we found. And in places where we haven't found it, rumors may have spread long ago."
Leiden looked at the stiff-faced earl solemnly, and continued in a serious tone.
"If the situation is allowed to continue to develop, not to mention the people outside the castle, even the people inside the castle may be unable to sit still..."