Chapter 38: The Weight of a Remote Town

‘So, he isn’t his biological brother after all?’

I silently noted the casual revelation from Moen Rodd, yet wisely refrained from asking further questions. I had already gleaned enough information for one day; I would need to thoroughly process and organize it all later.

It was prudent to leave some room for speculation, lest the man perceive me as overly inquisitive and become wary of communicating with me in the future.

My thoughts raced, but I merely nodded, feigning ignorance of his remark.

Moen Rodd did not escort me to the castle himself, as he still had the soldier’s corpse to attend to. Instead, he instructed Allen to do so.

The young man, who appeared to be quite young, led a horse over. Once I was mounted, he skillfully took the reins and walked forward.

After we had traveled a short distance, my curiosity became irrepressible. I finally broke the silence.

“Excuse me, but is my treatment as a maid truly this exceptional?”

“Is there a problem?” Allen replied simply, without turning his head.

“It’s just that having the Lord’s brother lead my horse feels… a little overwhelming, to say the least.”

Upon hearing this, Allen turned back, offering a warm smile.

“Oh, leading your horse is nothing. You saved my seventh brother, after all.”

“Your seventh brother?”

“That’s right. My eldest brother is the leader of everyone, and the man you saved ranks seventh among us. So, all of us younger ones call him ‘Seventh Brother’.”

“The leader? Seventh Brother?”

The more I listened, the more something felt amiss, a strange incongruity.

“Your brother, as the Lord, can maintain such intimate terms with his subordinates?”

“Why not? We are… uh…”

Allen had almost blurted something out instinctively, but then, as if recalling a hidden secret, his face suddenly darkened. His previously amiable demeanor vanished, replaced by an annoyed outburst.

“You wretched woman! Stop prying, will you? It’s infuriating!”

‘Wretched… wretched woman?’

Allen’s sudden change in attitude startled me, and a wave of resentment welled up inside. Seriously, no good deed goes unpunished. Hadn’t I just saved his so-called ‘Seventh Brother’? And this was the attitude I received?

Hmph, ignorant little brat. Just wait until your brother spanks you!

I silently cursed Allen, yet simultaneously pondered the reason for his abrupt shift in mood. He genuinely seemed upset. Why? Had I inadvertently done something wrong?

I carefully replayed my words, concluding that my questions were normal and unproblematic. However, another possibility quickly emerged.

‘Had I, perhaps, inadvertently caused Allen to make a mistake?’

My mood grew complicated at this thought. Was it truly because of me that he had erred? Perhaps I should just apologize. A simple apology wouldn’t hurt, and children usually fell for it.

I deliberated for a long time, just about to speak, when I heard Allen sigh.

“I’m sorry. I was a bit impulsive just now. Please don’t take it to heart.”

“Eh? Ah… no, it’s nothing…”

This time, it was my turn to be surprised. ‘These two brothers are quite alike,’ I thought, ‘each one more apologetic than the last.’

Allen didn’t dwell on it. He simply pointed ahead to a cluster of buildings.

“Alright, look, that’s Listening Wind Town.”

I followed his gaze into the distance, my eyes settling on a desolate-looking settlement. It was a small town nestled in a valley, surrounded by rolling cliffs, with a long river flowing through it, extending far into a dense, primeval forest.

At the innermost part of the town stood an ancient castle. It wasn’t particularly grand, even appearing inferior to the watchtowers of Emerald Harbor, but in this undeveloped town, it loomed like a giant, gazing down upon the entire settlement.

“Listening Wind Town – that name is a translation. In the local dialect of the indigenous people, it means ‘far-reaching’ or ‘remote’. In other words, this town is a remote, impoverished backwater,” Allen explained with a hint of resignation.

“An impoverished backwater? Is it really that exaggerated?”

“You’ll see once we’re inside…”

With that, Allen led me into the jurisdiction of Listening Wind Town. I gripped the saddle, observing my surroundings with a sense of novelty.

As he had said, this was indeed an underdeveloped town. The streets were narrow and winding, the cobblestone paths riddled with potholes and weeds. The horse’s hooves stumbled occasionally, as if every inch had been wearied by the relentless erosion of time.

The houses on either side were mostly constructed from rough stones and wood, their windows crudely sealed with old cloth and planks. They were exceedingly simple.

Most of these dwellings were common Western-style pitched-roof cottages. What symbolized advancement and prosperity in another world appeared utterly dilapidated here. Crooked beams, mottled walls, and moss growing in the crevices all seemed to narrate the town’s desolation.

The decrepit architecture already weighed heavily on my heart, but what I witnessed next only deepened my somber mood.

As we ventured deeper, Allen and I finally spotted a few figures. They were elderly individuals, covered in dust, dressed in rags, and gaunt. They huddled along the sides of the street, gathered around a weak bonfire, sitting listlessly. Their eyes were cold and hollow, as if the flame within them had long extinguished, devoid of the spirit of ordinary people. Even as we passed, they offered no glance.

Next, I saw several young men. They carried heavy mining picks on their shoulders. Though some muscle still clung to their frames, their steps were heavy and listless, as if burdened with sandbags. Their expressions, like those of the elderly, were vacant and lifeless, as if accustomed to the pervasive decay and no longer stirred by it.

The deeper we went into the town, the heavier my heart grew. It felt as if this place were a scroll inscribed with suffering, where even the occasional cries of children echoing from afar sounded like poignant brushstrokes.

“The residents here are all like this. I felt awful when I first arrived too, but you get used to it after a while,” Allen offered by way of comfort.

“How did they come to be this way? I’ve seen people in Coldwind Territory, but even the serfs there weren’t as lifeless as these residents.”

“Alas, there’s nothing to be done. The land in Listening Wind Town is too barren, not fertile at all. The crops grown here are much smaller than elsewhere. Besides hunting, the only means of livelihood for these people is to work in the nearby coal mine, selling the excavated coal to merchants from the Tax Haven for meager wages. But that money isn’t enough to keep them fed and clothed…”

“How can mining trade yield only meager wages?” My mind immediately conjured images of Australia in another world, a place that became a developed country simply by exporting raw materials. “Isn’t that incredibly profitable?”

“Profitable? Are you joking? Do you know how unscrupulous the merchants of Emerald Harbor are?” Allen’s tone suddenly grew heavy. “They buy the minerals here at a third of the price they pay elsewhere, then sell them for ten times that amount, stuffing their bellies full of profit.”

“What? How can the prices be so low?”

“It’s an agreement between the Moen family and the Sherlock family. The previous Lord, in order to suppress farmer rebellions within his territory, borrowed manpower and weapons from the Sherlock family, and then signed that kind of agreement.” Allen sounded wistful. “My brother told me that besides the mineral agreement, there were also agreements concerning grain, seeds, taxes, and so on. I can’t even remember how many clauses there were, but they were all incredibly unfair and unjust.”

Upon hearing Allen’s explanation, a suffocating feeling settled in my chest. I had initially believed that if I escaped Coldwind Territory and found a remote place to live with Lulona, even if we couldn’t live a rich life, we could at least find some small measure of happiness. Yet, even in such a remote town, they couldn’t escape the clutches of the powerful. A mere drop of spittle from the mouths of those in power could fall upon these common folk and crush their backs like a mountain. Was this world always like this? Was it meant to be?