After the carriage left, Manfeld found that, just as the coachman had said, no one stayed behind to wait for him. Everyone had left, and the crowd around him was full of unfamiliar faces.
However, he did not feel too depressed. He did not do those things for the sake of gratitude, but because he thought it was the right thing to do.
Based on the information provided by the coachman, Manfeld soon found the registration office of the Graycastle people. In fact, the area was not only full of banners, but also full of people shouting. It was hard not to notice.
Despite the large number of people, the order of the scene did not appear chaotic. Iron railings divided the crowd into several folded groups. It seemed that the distance from the entrance to the registration desk had been artificially extended, but this also meant that people could only move forward one by one according to the "path" defined by the railings.
When it was Manfeld's turn, a Graycastle man dressed like a soldier received him. These outsiders were all wearing the same uniform, so it was easy to recognize them.
"Name?"
"Manfeld Castein."
"Identity? Did you commit any crimes? What's your specialty?"
Just like what the coachman had said, Manfeld answered all the questions truthfully and skipped over his family background. When he was about to elaborate on his specialties, the soldier interrupted him after hearing that he could read and write. "That's enough. Get on the boat at pier No. 6. This is your registration number plate. Don't lose it. Next. "
Before Manfeld realized what had happened, he was squeezed out of the queue and entered the dock area.
Uh … That's it?
Is it really like what the coachman said? Can one live a comfortable life in Graycastle just because he can read and write? But judging from the situation at the registration desk, it seems that any Graycastle man can read and write. While waiting in line, Manfeld noticed that the scribes had changed several times. Sometimes, they even found a temporary soldier to supervise the order, but nothing went wrong.
This situation puzzled him a little.
Moreover, the plate given to him by the Graycastle man seemed to contain some secret. It was an iron plate with a hemp rope hanging on one end, which could be worn as a necklace. There were a series of symbols engraved on the plate, which were probably related to his registration number. It wouldn't cost much to hire a blacksmith to make such a small metal plate, but it would be a completely different story if it were to be used by the entire group of migrants.
Castein's family had a blacksmith shop in the past, so he knew what that meant. A piece of iron plate could be made from the scraps left over from forging, but a hundred pieces or a thousand pieces could not be made. Engraving the symbol would take half a day, but repeating it a hundred or a thousand times would take a long time.
However, there were more than a thousand people on the pier.
If the Sedimentation Bay was like this every day, it would be an understatement to say that there were tens of thousands of them! And to prepare a registration card like this for all the migrants? The materials and time required were far beyond his imagination. Even if he gathered all the blacksmiths in the Kingdom of Wolfheart, it would still be impossible.
This alone made him realize the wealth and luxury of the Kingdom of Graycastle.
In the past, this title belonged to the Kingdom of Dawn.
With these thoughts in mind, Manfeld boarded a three-masted ship.
He didn't know if it was because of his specialty, but he was assigned to a cabin for ten people. It was much better than he had expected to sleep in the cargo hold. Even so, he could not stand the pungent smell in the cabin. No matter how poor his family was, they could at least provide him with a comfortable bedroom.
Therefore, he only stayed for a short while before he escaped in a panic. When he was about to go to the deck to get some fresh air, he suddenly heard a soft cry for help.
It seemed to come from the end of the corridor.
At this time, there were not many people boarding the ship. The sailors were busy on the upper deck, so the cabin was somewhat empty. Except for Manfeld, no one else had heard the cry for help.
Without hesitation, Manfeld walked toward the source of the cry.
At the end of the corridor was a storeroom. Except for the crew, few people would come to such a place. He gently pressed his ear against the door, and sure enough, he heard some strange noises, as if someone was struggling.
He decisively took two steps back, lowered his shoulders, and slammed open the door.
Manfeld was taken aback by what he saw.
The man standing in the storeroom was the middle-aged nobleman who had been on the carriage with him and mocked him for his stupidity. Two of his attendants were pressing two women to the ground and trying to tie their hands and feet with ropes. The women's mouths were stuffed with a piece of linen cloth, and they could only mumble in a low voice. Apparently, they were brought here by force.
"Oh? Aren't you a fool who pretends to be fair? "the nobleman said calmly." If I'm not mistaken, you're also a noble, right? My name is Mac McKinley. What about you? "
"Manfeld Castein." This was the third time that Manfeld had said his name in a day. He noticed that the moment he revealed his identity, the woman's eyes, which had just lit up with hope, suddenly dimmed, and even her struggle became much weaker.
"Castein? I've never heard of him. " The man shrugged. "But you're lucky. Since you've met me, I'll let you have some fun. But you'll have to wait after me."
"Let them go," Manfeld said in a low voice.
"Huh?" Mac McKinley narrowed his eyes. "Is there something wrong with you? Do you know who they are? Slaves! And they've been played by countless people. At first, I thought I was mistaken. I didn't expect to meet these two little things on the ship. As far as I know, their owner would never let them go. So, it's simple. They escaped without permission. Even so, you still want to protect them? "
Even among the slaves, escaped slaves were the lowest kind, almost no different from livestock. No matter what the noblemen did to them, they would not be blamed.
But it was just as he had said before.
"Everyone is like this, but it doesn't mean it's right. "
"The destination of this ship is Graycastle, right?"
"… What are you trying to say?" Mac McKinley said with a gloomy face.
"You must have heard the propaganda of Graycastle. The royal family of Wimbledon has abolished slavery. So, from the moment they boarded this ship, they were no longer slaves," Manfeld said. "And don't forget, after we disembark, there will be a round of investigation, which includes criminal records. If I tell them, do you think the people of Graycastle will pretend nothing happened?"
"What if I insist?" the man asked through clenched teeth.
"Then beat me first," Manfeld said, rolling up his sleeves. "I'm a Knight —"
Before he could finish, Mac McKinley's men had already pounced on him.
…
The outcome of the battle was quickly decided.
Apparently, the man's guards were well-trained. In the narrow storeroom, Manfeld lost the ability to fight back in less than ten moves. When he fell to the ground with a swollen face, Mac McKinley came up and gave him a couple of kicks.
"You want to act cool with your skills? I thought you were as good as your mouth, "the middle-aged nobleman spat on the ground." Damn it. You ruined my mood. Since you like to protect these two bitches, I'll let you have them. But don't forget, slaves are slaves. It's the same no matter where they go! It's so unlucky to meet such an idiot. Let's go! "
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