Chapter 314: Three Working Days

The next morning, the Church of Light’s ultimatum was entered into the incoming dispatch ledger of the Mayor’s Office, ordinal number four hundred and nine, recorded by secretary Ivy.

Finishing recording, the little girl hugged both the ledger and the paper going up to the meeting room, reading it out loud for everyone to hear.

The Church demanded Lyra city to hand over the person claiming himself Holy Son to bring back to the Royal Capital for trial. Demanded opening all city gates for the inspection delegation to enter searching any place they wanted. Demanded abolishing the so-called Covenant, because a land region of the kingdom was not allowed to have separate laws. Demanded dismissing entirely all non-human people currently holding jobs in the administrative apparatus. Finally was an atonement money amount, the number written in words, long to the point Brian had to mentally calculate twice to get it.

The deadline the Church gave Lyra was three days.

"They also give three days huh?" Elric exclaimed.

"Yes, three days." Ivy answered: "And they wrote three days but did not write three working days. I ask truthfully, if the third day falls exactly on a day off then how is it calculated?"

Mr. Hollis pushed his glasses frame, seriously answering that according to custom the deadline set by the sending side would be calculated following the way the sending side wrote, therefore this time included days off.

Brian sat at the end of the table, bowing his head adding adding subtracting subtracting, finishing adding then looked up reporting that the atonement money amount the Church demanded equaled about two and a half years of the entire city’s total revenue, and that was calculating including the revenue money from the six newly merged villages.

Kaelen listened entirely once, nodded then turned to Hollis.

"Please trouble you and Miss Beatrix to draft a replying dispatch. Reply on time, in proper format, reply every single point one by one, do not miss any point."

"Holy Son, we reply for real?" Hollis asked again.

"For real." Kaelen answered: "People sent a document then we reply with a document, that is etiquette. And finishing replying then later whoever wants to investigate also has something to investigate."

The teacher and student sat drafting for a whole day and a half.

The replying dispatch of the Lyra City Hall was four pages long, the wording extremely polite, polite to the point Elric finishing reading felt his whole body get goosebumps.

Regarding the handing over of people matter, the City Hall respectfully informs that according to the kingdom’s law, wanting to arrest anyone must also have an arrest warrant issued by a competent court, in the Church’s document there is no arrest warrant attached so the City Hall has no basis to execute.

Regarding the opening gates for the inspection delegation matter, the City Hall is willing to welcome, however all guest delegations entering Lyra land must declare identities and open chests for inspection at the checkpoint, this regulation applies even to the Royal Family’s Special Envoy so it is hard to exempt exclusively for anyone.

Regarding the abolishing the Covenant matter, the City Hall begs to attach a copy of the Royal Family’s document recognizing papers issued by Lyra have effect across the entire kingdom, and respectfully requests the Church to directly discuss with the Royal Family if wanting to change that.

Regarding the dismissing non-human people matter, the City Hall answered concisely in one sentence that in the kingdom’s law there is no clause forbidding it, while in the Covenant there is a clause forbidding discrimination.

Arriving at the atonement money amount then the answer was merely a few lines, that the City Hall was not yet clear what crime Lyra had committed, violated which clause, was pronounced by which court, so cannot account this expenditure item into the budget, because all of the city’s expenditure items must be pasted publicly and the citizens have the right to ask what the money was spent on.

Signing the dispatch was Mayor Elric. Stamped with the City Hall’s red seal. Copied making three copies exactly according to custom, one copy sent away, one copy stored, one copy transferred to the Court.

Attached to the dispatch there was also another piece of paper.

That piece of paper was created by the Accounting division, on top clearly written as transit tax notification paper.

Brian sat doing it throughout the afternoon, doing very seriously, looking up even the tax tariff pasted outside the checkpoint to verify. Twelve thousand people passing through Lyra land, how much per person. Warhorses, pack horses, four-wheeled wagons, every type one level. Tents pitched on the empty land plot belonging to the city boundary then calculate land rent money by the day, having pitched three days then calculate three days.

Adding it all up, the final number was written in both words and numbers, below wrote adding a line that the City Hall accepted settling into multiple installments if the Church side had difficulties.

Elric picked the tax notification paper up reading, finishing reading fell silent for a very long time.

"Brian." He miserably said: "Do you know that on that side there are twelve thousand troops?"

"Yes I know." The boy answered: "I counted exactly following the number the scouts reported back. If they declared missing people then we adjust back later."

Sane sitting at the head of the table hearing to this point burst out laughing, reached his hand rubbing the boy’s head once.

The dispatch was handed to exactly the person having brought the ultimatum arriving, exactly on the third day, one hour before the City Hall’s break time.

Cardinal Marcellus received the dispatch inside the camp, reading to the second page his face was already flushing red, reading to the transit tax notification paper he tore it into halves, then into quarters, then threw it down to the ground stepping on it.

"A bunch of merchants!" He roared: "They dare to demand tax from the Church!"

The envoy standing beside shrank his neck back, not daring to remind that Lyra’s people had instructed if the Cardinal lost the original copy then just go over asking for a copy, they still stored two more copies.

That afternoon, Marcellus ordered the entire army to prepare, tomorrow morning crossing the stone marker.

That night, inside the camp no one could sleep, and not because of about to fight each other.

The matter began from dusk, when several mercenary guys carried buckets out to the water creek flowing under the hill foot, the place where these past three days the entire camp still took water. They went down arriving at the place seeing the creek bed exposed entirely gravel, damp then still damp, but water then there was not a single gulp.

They went upstream searching, walking more than a mile, everywhere only had wet gravel.

The old well at the nearby abandoned village edge, yesterday afternoon still could scoop, tonight dropping the bucket down then touched the bottom hearing a dry sound. Several stagnant water puddles in the rock hollows after the rain last week also dried up completely, yet the dirt around the puddles was still soft, the grass still green, completely having no drought signs at all.

Nearing morning, people recounted the remaining water buckets inside the camp, finishing counting silently looked at each other.

Twelve thousand people with more than two thousand horses, the remaining water amount was enough to use for less than one day.

Meanwhile, half a mile away from the camp, on the other side of the stone marker, Lyra’s water canal still roared flowing throughout the night, the sound of water pouring through the sluice gate heard completely clearly in the wind.

The next morning, instead of a troop deployment order, the entire camp received an order dispatching people going buying water.

Lyra’s people had erected several wooden tables ready right inside the stone marker since early, on the tables displaying buckets, displaying ladles, displaying even a board writing the listed price. One water bucket two copper coins, borrowing a bucket then deposit five coins, returning the bucket then take the deposit back. Horses drinking on the spot calculated separately, and wanting to lead horses across the marker then must declare the number beforehand.

Two Accounting division staff members sat behind the table, each person one ledger, collecting money to wherever recording to there, finishing collecting even tore receipts handing straight to hands.

Mercenaries dragged over buying water right from when the sky had not yet clearly shown people’s faces.

They queued up, because the Department of Public Security’s people stood there reminding that anyone pushing shoving invited to the end of the line, and going to the end of the line losing adding half a session waiting. Several guys both queued and cursed loudly, getting tired of cursing then turned asking the seller seeing if inside the city sold wine, hearing saying there was their eyes brightened up.

Arriving at mid-morning, the Holy Knights discovered, immediately completely forbidding, forcing entirely everyone to return to camp.

The ban held for about one session. Arriving in the afternoon, soldiers again sneaked away in small groups, walking detouring behind the hill slope out of sight, some groups even brought along their teammates’ buckets to buy on behalf eating commission.

Cardinal Marcellus stood on the highest earth mound of the camp, looking down at the swarming human line queuing on the other side of the stone marker, his two hands tightly gripping the staff to the point his knuckles turned pale white.

He clearly understood what matter was happening, and that understanding was exactly the thing making him scared.

No one attacked into the camp. No arrow flew over. Not a single soldier of his was injured, even scratched. Only that water in this place suddenly was no more, while on the other side it still flowed, even sold to him at the price of two copper coins per bucket, sold accompanying a receipt.

The second army wing arrived at the place at noon that day.

They pitched camp about thirty footsteps away from the Church’s camp, planting the dark blue background flag having the crown-wearing lion right in the middle of the field. The commander was a grizzled-haired general named Oswin, originally a person of the Northern barracks of the Royal Capital, receiving the marching order from Duke Alban’s hand while in hand only having a copy of the commitment document signed since autumn last year.

Just finishing pitching camp he dispatched people going finding water, then half an hour later received a report exactly identical to the other side, the creek bed exposed gravel while the well touched the bottom.

He was standing frowning listening to the report when a person riding a horse from the stone marker side came over, wearing Royal formal attire, on his chest wearing a badge, followed by an old valet official.

General Oswin seeing that face almost fell off the horse saddle.

"Second Highness?!"

Lucien reined, jumped down to the ground. He did not wear a hood anymore, his bald head exposed in the middle of the sky, yet the entire over six thousand people encampment standing around at this moment absolutely no one dared to laugh.

Because half the officers in the camp also had just heard rumors of the matter happening in the Royal Capital the other night.

"General Oswin, who ordered you to go?" Lucien asked.

"Your Highness, it was Duke Alban." The general bowed answering: "He brought the Royal Family’s commitment document down to the barracks, inside having His Majesty’s signature and seal."

"Document signed since when?"

"Yes... since autumn last year."

"And the marching order signed when? What is the ordinal number? Copied sending back to the Archive House yet?"

Oswin stood dead frozen.

He had been a general for twenty-something years, never had any prince asked him those questions. And the scary thing was he could not answer a single question, because the thing he held in his hand truly only had an old document copy and the words of a Duke.

"I tell you to know this matter." Lucien lowered his voice: "I left the Royal Capital carrying along the peace proposal national letter personally handed by my royal father. In my hand I have his signet seal. Meaning while I sit inside that city discussing peace matters with people then you lead six thousand troops of our family trailing behind my back. You try telling me, if the people inside the city want to kill entirely all of us here to answer for that trick, then are they wrong?"

"Your Highness." Oswin’s voice went hoarse: "I do not dare to arbitrarily retreat troops when not yet having an order. Retreating troops without an order is a death crime, and a death crime I can endure, but my entire family..."

"I do not tell you to retreat." Lucien interrupted: "I tell you to stand still. Pitch camp here, do not advance an extra step across the stone marker, do not receive orders from the Church side, wait for my royal father’s order arriving. If being held accountable I step forward enduring, I will write a paper handing you holding."

The paper was written right on the spot, on the lid of a wooden chest, Ferris ground ink, Lucien personally wrote then stamped his signet seal on it.

Oswin held that paper, his two hands trembled, ultimately knelt one knee down onto the ground.

That afternoon, the two camps located thirty footsteps away from each other officially no longer spoke with each other anymore.

Cardinal Marcellus dispatched people going over transmitting a joint gathering order to tomorrow morning crossing the marker together, the other side answered that the Royal Family’s troops wait for the Royal Family’s order. He dispatched people going over the second time, accompanied by a reminding word that whoever hinders the sacred work of the God of Light then is also a heresy, the other side still answered exactly the same as before, this time accompanied adding a copy of the paper having the Second Prince’s signet seal.

Night fell, inside the Church’s camp, people burned torches blazing brightly throughout the night.

While on the other side of the stone marker, half a mile away, Lyra city still lived as usual. The broadcasting speaker read the rest of the evening drama episode, finishing reading reminded the citizens of several reclamation groups remembering going up to the Department of Public Security registering if wanting to enter the city staying temporarily, reminding the coming market session still gathers in the East market courtyard.

On the City Hall bell tower, Kaelen stood leaning on the railing looking toward the two flickering campfires out there.

Sane stood behind his back, wrapping his arms hugging his waist, his chin resting on his shoulder.

"How long do you intend to let them be thirsty?"

"Until when they understand that going one more step then water is not the only thing disappearing." Kaelen answered.

Sane said: "You are still too merciful. Just grabbing their necks lifting them up punching a bout isn’t it faster?"

"First, the horses have no crime, among that mercenary crowd there are also kids just sixteen years old. Second..." Kaelen smiled beamingly: "The Church is very rich, not taking this opportunity for our folks to scrounge up a little bit then is too disadvantageous for them."