Chapter 410: Chapter 392: The Escaping City Councilor
"Move aside, cobbler, your cart is blocking the way!"
"The box has overturned, my friend, can’t you wait a moment?"
"Bang!"
"Ah! My newly bought carriage!"
Under the newly constructed walls of Xiaochi City, made of rubble and mortar, the congested traffic lined up like a dragon behind the heavy fir gate, the square nails on which were still marked by the scorching fire half a year ago.
It was during that time that Xiaochi City was harshly struck by decrees.
Back then, the Juanist Faction and the Church had not yet torn their faces apart. Mindful of the monastery’s reputation, Prince Kongdai only conducted simple plundering of artisans and laborers outside the city.
After executing a group of city councilors and extorting a wave of wealth, he withdrew on his own.
Yet, through trade with Langsande County in mortar and grain, Xiaochi City surprisingly regained some of its former prosperity.
As straw shoes and short boots trod over the slippery cobblestones, only the fire marks on the ground and walls and the blood-blackened hangrope on the flagpole could reflect the past bloodshed.
Yet this brief prosperity unexpectedly faced desolation once more.
The streets were full of soldiers under martial law, with knights and mercenaries and armed farmers occasionally entering through side gates, offering money for battle.
In front of the main city gate, three rows of chevaux-de-frise were erected, forming a checkpoint.
Dozens of city councilors, wealthy merchants, and hundreds of their servants crowded in front of the barricade, angrily and helplessly pouring boxes of coins into the wooden grain measures.
The wooden trough that once held golden grain now had gold coins and silver coins piled in a pyramid-shaped peak at its mouth.
The soldiers at the gate wore chain mail or leather armor; just days ago, they might have been shop owners or apprentices in a workshop.
Now, however, their eyes were filled with hatred, staring intently at the wealthy merchants and oligarchs before them.
They all knew these merchants had colluded with the Church for profit, selling Xiaochi City’s interests to the Church.
They knew the heavy annual ransom tax paid to the Church was due to the weakness of these city councilors.
They knew when the Noble Alliance Army came, it was these culprits who escaped first, even contemplating selling city defense plans to the Noble Alliance Army.
"Can’t figure out what His Excellency Richelieu is thinking, letting them leave in such circumstances?"
"As far as I’m concerned, they should be killed first. Traitors!"
Andruk, a wealthy merchant counting the exit tax, abruptly raised his head, his face flushed, seemingly wanting to angrily rebuke these small figures.
But unfortunately, under the provocative gaze of two soldiers, he restrained his urge to shout.
After all, now was the critical moment to leave the city; one should not cause trouble.
Like most informed merchants, Andruk was already aware that Count Musaq was leading the Noble Alliance Army of the Kasha County Church Faction towards Xiaochi City.
In a day or two, the army would arrive, so they had to escape by tonight.
Count Musaq was an old knight, a fierce fighter in the blood battles against the Vampire Pirates in the Xilan Islands, known as a titled knight without a title.
As for the Noble Alliance Army led by the Count, it had no less than three thousand elite soldiers, even hundreds of knights.
Facing such a lineup, half a year ago, Xiaochi City might have had a chance to hold on.
But after the decrees breached the city, industries deteriorated, the population dispersed, now only more than a thousand troops remained in the city, mostly ordinary militiamen.
Originally, there shouldn’t be only this many. But those elite mercenaries sent to support Rapids City, either hid in the wilderness or were "injured" and couldn’t fight.
This clearly showed they were afraid once they learned Count Musaq was coming.
Xiaochi City has suffered repeatedly from warfare, city defenses are ruined, manpower is insufficient, they see no hope.
As for the supposed ally, the Salvation Army, there’s even less possibility.
Just to get them here would take seven or eight days; even if they arrived, then what?
With such a long marching distance, all infantry, they’d probably be defeated by Count Musaq with ease just like the ambush troops they sent earlier.
Holding on was impossible, couldn’t hold on in this lifetime.
Even if Xiaochi City was held, what then? Once Rapids City falls, those dreadful decrees would come again.
Each time they recalled the terrifying experiences from half a year ago, these merchants couldn’t help shivering, clenching their tails.
Escape, they must escape, if not, it would be too late.
"You go on talking, talk well." Andruk, red-faced, remained silent, while his servant grew anxious, "When Master Musaq arrives, all of you will die."
"Oh, you sure have backbone." The militiaman, originally an artisan, raised his hooked spear, "Since you have such backbone, stay and guard the city with us."
This terrified the servant so much he trembled, but still stubbornly cursed, "I’m a high-class servant!"
"We want high-class servants." Resting the hooked spear on the servant’s shoulder, the militiaman squinted an eye at Andruk, "What’s this? Unhappy?"
"He’s my servant, been following me since twelve, he’s an old hand..." Andruk straightened his back before the militiaman, looking at him coldly and arrogantly.
"Oh, so what do you mean?"
"Reduction in tax, you take him and my exit tax must be reduced!" Andruk spoke righteously as if he were protecting the servant.
In the servant’s hopeless and vacant stare, after deducting the corresponding tax, the former master gleefully handed his contract to the militiaman.
"Alright, now, you’re ours, high-class servant."
Extracting a full third of the wealth from the carriage, Andruk clutched his chest in pain and signed his name on the agreement.
"I vow never to return after leaving the city; all matters of Xiaochi City are no longer related to me!"
Under the gaze of all, having made the vow, Andruk felt as if he shed a layer.
Wheels rolling, hooves clattering, he finally stepped through the suddenly opened city gate.
Raising his head, he looked at the earth-gray city enclosure.
Under the pale sky, the hot wind blew across the wall, a figure in a black and red half-shoulder priest’s robe stood conspicuously.
"Just wait!" Andruk looked at the figure, spat thickly on the ground.
It was this Bishop Richelieu from Langsande County who first exploited the information disparity, having them attend mass, then sent troops to seal the city gates.
The same Bishop spread rumors about them selling city defense plans to the Noble Alliance Army and decrees, saying merchants and city councilors were preparing to flee.
Rumors! Utterly groundless rumors!
They were merely transferring assets, personally escorting, where was there anything about running away?
But the rumors, propped by a few lucky councilors who made early escapes, seemed incredibly true.
Under Priest Martin’s instigation, nearly the entire city stood against them.
Then the insidious Bishop Richelieu imposed a three-day exit tax with a rate as high as 30%.
Taking the opportunity, those remaining in the city forced them to pay a considerable sum, intending to use these funds to buy equipment and hire soldiers.
Yet what good would this do? Wouldn’t over a thousand militiamen be defeated by the Noble Alliance Army?
Thinking about their wealth being snatched by the Noble Alliance Army, Andruk and the group of merchants felt a stabbing pain in their hearts.
But staying in the city meant death, and to escape sooner, they had no choice but to resort to this.
"You stay here and wait for death, to be sure, I’ll be back! I’ll be the esteemed city councilor of Xiaochi City again!"