The expected chaos did not come to Valencia, and the situation was completely beyond Bale's imagination.
As the clerk of several Castellans, he naturally knew what it meant to break into the city — looting, killing, disorder, exile... Whether it was a Knight, a mob, or a pirate, it made no difference. It was the same when King Timothy put down the rebellion and when the new Duke took over the throne.
The food and wealth in the city were the best rewards for those who seized power, and it was only natural for them to keep as much as possible, just like the nobles were born to be nobler than the common people.
The records in the history books had proved its correctness many times.
However, the situation was completely different this time — Roland's army not only did not attack the people, but also carried out relief and pacification work. A large pile of wheat found in the Duke's castle was cooked into oatmeal and distributed to the hungry people. A large number of recruitment notices were posted in the center of the square, and in addition to food, the participants could also get a certain amount of pay! Did Roland's soldiers not mind that these things, which originally belonged to them, were distributed to a group of unrelated people? Did Prince Roland travel thousands of miles to conquer Valencia just to squander his own treasury?
Throughout all kinds of books, Bale had never seen such a ridiculous precedent in history.
But these only surprised him at most, and there was another thing that made the clerk feel a deep fear.
That was the castle fire a few days ago.
The propaganda saying that the Rats set the fire was full of loopholes. He had served three Dukes and lived in the castle for more than 20 years, but he had never found the entrance or exit of the secret passage.
For such a life-or-death escape route, it must be designed to be very hidden and safe, and it would be difficult to find it even from the inside, let alone from the outside. If those guys had this ability, they would not have been reduced to the Rats on the Black Street.
The fire was set by Roland's people.
After realizing this, Bale felt his heart suddenly clench.
For the first time, the nobles were no longer nobler than the common people, and their lives were the same as those who were stuffed into the city walls, without any security to speak of.
Perhaps even more dangerous.
The big families that had not been wiped out by Roland apparently also thought of this, and their reaction was very direct, that was to leave Valencia... and even Graycastle.
So what next?
Would such a thing befall him?
Over the past few days, the scribe's hair had been falling out in clumps, and the area of his head had grown larger and larger.
This fear did not come from blind imagination. In the past ten years or so, he was known as a nobleman without a title, or the nobleman closest to nobility. He had served many lords, seen many things, and read more books than most of the children of the aristocratic families. Because of this, no matter if it was Garcia's looting or the change of control of the Eastern Region, he was able to get through them unscathed. Even if the people in the city were sifted again and again like rice straws, he still had the energy to observe and record the scenes.
But now, Bell could not even fall asleep.
Although the powerful army had not attacked any non-nobles — even ordinary people who had worked for the big families — he was not sure that they would continue to do so in the future.
He couldn't beg those families to take him with them because he was still a commoner. He didn't want to sit still and wait for death. He kept thinking that he had to do something.
In front of the flickering candlelight, the clerk looked at the Chronicle of Valencia that was still being written.
Thinking of what he had written, Bell could not help but feel a chill in his heart.
Yes, he almost forgot about this...
Then he quickly flipped to the last few pages, tore them off, and lit the pieces of paper one by one until they were ashes.
No, maybe this was not enough.
Bell thought for a moment, took out a quill, dipped it in ink, and put it on the paper.
"No matter what the result is, you have to record it truthfully, understand?" — Duke Willion's words rang in his ears.
Of course, he would record it truthfully now.
This was the duty of a clerk.
However, there was no absolute objectivity in this world. Now that he lived in the city ruled by Roland, it was not strange for him to be a little biased, or in other words, this was part of objectivity.
Bell took a deep breath and quickly put down the quill.
"The messenger sent by the great King Roland Wimbledon arrived in his loyal Valencia today..."
*****
In the First Army's camp on the outskirts of Redwater City.
"Your Majesty, there's a secret letter from the Eastern Region."
Nightingale jumped out of the Mist with a gray goshawk in her hand. The goshawk raised its claws at Roland and grunted discontentedly, as if complaining that the letter was too heavy. There were six rolls of paper tied to its claws, which almost took up all the space between its legs. The flying messenger did not calm down until Nightingale handed it a handful of grilled fish.
"Uh, this can't be considered a secret letter anymore."
Roland opened the six densely written notes in turn and quickly skimmed through them. The sender was Iron Axe, and the main content of the letter was a routine post-war summary and situation report.
The first half of the battle was exactly as he had predicted. The Eastern Front Army easily captured Valencia, and the mortars showed their great power in the battle. Facing the firepower of the 12-pound field artillery, the enemy was unable to fight back, even if it was a siege.
However, when he read the second half of the letter, Roland was a little surprised.
"What's wrong? Is there a problem over there?" Nightingale asked.
"Well... it's not really a problem. It's just a little strange." He handed the fifth letter to her and said, "Look at this."
"Burning the dungeon that imprisoned the nobles?" Nightingale glanced at it and immediately caught the key point. "Didn't you order this?"
Roland shook his head and said, "No, I just told him that he would be fully responsible for the war on the Eastern Front."
"Then... what's strange about it?" She was puzzled. "Since he's fully responsible, it's normal for him to take any action, right? What's more, those guys have bad intentions. They haven't surrendered to you for so long. Now, not only did you sweep them clean, but you can also use this opportunity to clean up the rats. It's like killing two birds with one stone. "
"You're right..." Roland said, stroking his chin. However, he still felt that this method of handling the situation was a little too artistic. The Eastern Region was where the Second Prince had lived for a long time. Capturing the city was only the first step, and the next step was the open and veiled struggle with the surrendered nobles. Therefore, he handed over most of the novice officials trained by the City hall to the Eastern Front Army, and appointed Iron Axe, who was from the Sand Nation, as the commander of the Eastern Front Army.
According to his expectation, after capturing Valencia, in order to eliminate the enemy, Iron Axe would most likely exert his torture skills to the extreme. Even the high priests of the church could not stand the torture of the Mojins, let alone those delicate nobles. Through bloody trials and executions, he would gradually destroy the old power of the nobles and establish a new order in the Eastern Region.
But directly burning it did not seem to be in line with Iron Axe's style.
Roland thought for a moment and decided to put this little surprise to the back of his mind. He would wait until the two armies converged before asking. After all, as Nightingale had said, the effect of this fire was surprisingly good. The big families were directly scared out of their wits. They no longer cared about their own fiefdoms and began to swarm out of the country.
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