Chapter 73
That evening. In a corner of the government office, several officials leaned their faces together over a ledger.
“…Did you hear?”
One of them said, lowering his voice.
“Yeah.”
Another man put down his brush.
“About His Highness Leonhart’s words, right?”
He let out a small breath.
“Permits, records, and whatnot…”
“It’s an increase in labor.”
“Until now, we just collected from the arriving guests on the spot and that was it.”
“To think we have to write down their names…”
Another said, flipping through the ledger.
“And by the number of days, too. If we make a mistake, it becomes our responsibility.”
Silence. Eventually, an older official said in a low voice.
“…But, omissions will decrease.”
No one answered immediately.
“Until now, there were oversights. Those who went home without paying, too.”
“…And now it’s ‘do not let them escape,’ huh.”
Someone gave a small laugh.
“A troublesome Highness.”
But there was no strong denial in that voice.
Someone muttered.
“…But, the logic is sound.”
Silence fell once again.
Meanwhile, behind the inn.
Several innkeepers had set their buckets aside and sat down.
“Did you hear?”
A fat man grimaced.
“He says, ‘do not lodge them if they don’t have a permit’.”
“Things have gotten troublesome.”
Another man shrugged.
“Are we supposed to tell the guests to show it one by one?”
“If they don’t show it, don’t lodge them.”
“If we do that, they’ll flow to other places.”
Someone said as if spitting it out. But an elderly innkeeper sitting at the edge quietly opened his mouth.
“…They won’t flow.”
Gazes gather on him.
“Soldiers are stationed. The gates are watched. No matter where they go, it will be the same.”
A beat.
“If so, we have no choice but to obey.”
No one objected.
Eventually, another man said softly.
“…But, guests will decrease.”
The elderly innkeeper shook his head.
A shack on the outskirts of the village.
Surrounding a crude desk, several men leaned their faces together.
“Permission from a medical officer, he says.”
One of them clicked his tongue.
“Who would get such a thing.”
“If you don’t get it, you’ll be thrown out.”
Another man said in a low voice.
“…A crackdown, huh.”
Eventually, a skinny man laughed.
“Then we just change our location.”
“To where?”
“It’s decided.”
The man shrugged.
“Where they can’t see us.”
But that laugh did not last long.
“…No.”
Another muttered.
“This time is different. Soldiers are patrolling. The gates are also secured. There’s nowhere to escape.”
The air grew heavy.
“…A disagreeable lord has arrived, huh.”
No one denied it.
Deep inside the stone cathedral.
In a small room surrounded by thick walls, faint shadows fell even during the day. The windows were narrow, and the shining light was weak. Candles were lit on the desk, and parchments and seals were lined up.
Several clergy members were seated in silence.
Eventually, one of them opened his mouth.
“…Did you hear?”
It was a low, stifled voice.
“The money that had been coming directly to us until now… will no longer come in.”
Silence fell.
Another man slowly interlaced his fingers.
“The bathing fees of the hot spring. The tributes from the inns. The donations of pilgrims…”
He said them one by one, as if confirming.
“Everything has shifted to the hands of that Prince.”
“The Third Prince, is it.”
Someone said as if spitting it out.
“Confounded.”
They were short words, but the air in the room wavered slightly. But immediately, another clergy member quietly opened his mouth.
“…It is not by force.”
Gazes gathered.
“He has taken the form of a royal decree. The justifications are in order. …Outwardly, it is ‘management’.”
Bitter faces lined up.
“Management, is it.”
The man from earlier snorted.
“He just changed the words. What he is doing is usurpation.”
No one denied it. Eventually, an older priest slowly opened his mouth.
“The problem is not the money.”
It was a quiet voice.
“…The flow of people will change.”
His low voice dropped.
“Until now, those who came to this land first came to the church. They offered prayers, made donations, and obtained forgiveness.”
He continued quietly.
“But from here on, it will be different. They will be stopped at the gate, made to write their names, and passed inside just like that.”
A slight pause.
“—Without passing through us.”
His voice grew one step lower.
“It is not a problem of money.”
He said slowly.
“People will no longer pass through us. That is the problem.”
Everyone understood the meaning of that.
That was heavier than money. Because it meant the flow of faith would be severed.
Silence fell heavily. Eventually, someone muttered.
“…Are we to leave it be?”
The older priest did not answer immediately. After a while, he said quietly.
“No.”
He slowly raised his face.
“We will negotiate. Or perhaps—”
He cut off his words.
“Involve ourselves in another form.”
The candlelight flickered slightly.
At night, behind the inn once again.
The same faces from the daytime were gathered again.
“In the end, what will happen.”
A young innkeeper said in an irritated voice.
“Permits, records… can we really do that?”
“We have no choice but to do it.”
The elderly innkeeper replied quietly.
“Soldiers are stationed. The gates are watched. If we don’t obey, we can’t let guests in.”
Silence. Eventually, the skinny man sitting at the edge opened his mouth. A man who had not spoken a single word until then.
“…You’re wrong.”
Gazes gathered. The man slowly said.
“That person doesn’t want to just crack down.”
A beat.
“He intends to profit.”
No one could reply immediately.
“He will select the guests and narrow the flow. Leaving only those who hold money.”
He continued quietly.
“And, without letting them escape, he will take from them.”
The fire crackled softly.
“He will drive out the troublemakers and arrange the place. If he does that, money will naturally gather.”
The skinny man’s eyes harbored a fathomless light. Eventually, someone muttered in a low voice.
“…Is he thinking that far ahead?”
The skinny man shrugged.
“Who knows.”
But his eyes were not laughing.
A few days later.
People were lined up in front of the gate since morning.
“Next!”
An official raised his voice. On the desk were wooden tags and parchment. And thin cords of different colors. They were colors matching the permits.
“Name. Where are you from. How many days will you stay.”
Asked in rapid succession, the traveler was bewildered.
“…There was never anything like this before.”
An irritated voice arose.
“It is a new rule.”
The official did not raise his face.
“Answer.”
The line behind them murmured.
“Hurry up.”
“How long are you going to make us wait.”
In another place, a dispute was happening in front of an inn.
“I cannot lodge you without a permit.”
The innkeeper crossed his arms.
“But you lodged me yesterday!”
The traveler raised his voice.
“That was until yesterday.”
He declared flatly.
“Now it is different.”
The man clicked his tongue, but looking around, he fell silent. Soldiers were stationed at the gates and on the streets.
There was nowhere to escape.
Eventually, he reluctantly returned to the line at the gate.
…Confusion was occurring in various places.
Missing records. Miscounting of days. Handing over the wrong colors. Sweat seeped onto the foreheads of the officials.
“No, that is the color for three days!”
“Yesterday’s portion is missing!”
Angry roars flew.
But the line did not stop. If they stopped it, it would overflow.
They had no choice but to keep it moving.
That afternoon.
A commotion occurred at the entrance of the bathhouse.
“Halt.”
A low voice dropped.
A man stopped his feet. The cord wrapped around his arm was—not there.
“Your permit?”
The soldier asked.
“…I have it.”
The man answered immediately.
“But I left it at the inn.”
“Then go back and get it.”
A short reply. The man clicked his tongue.
“Just once should be fine, right?”
He stepped forward one pace. It was that moment. The soldier blocked the path with the shaft of his spear.
“Do not let him pass.”
The air changed. The surrounding gazes gathered.
The man distorted his face.
“You’re exaggerating…”
But his feet had stopped. The soldier did not move. Eventually, another soldier opened his mouth.
“Check the records.”
An official ran over and flipped through the ledger.
“…No match.”
A short report.
“Then—”
The soldier took a step forward.
“Those who cannot obey the rules, get out.”
It was a quiet voice. The man’s face stiffened.
“…Don’t mess with me.”
But there was no power in that voice.
The surrounding gazes were all directed at him.
There was nowhere to escape. The soldiers took his arms. He could not resist.
Just like that, he was taken outside the gate.
No one stopped them. No one interjected. They just watched.
Eventually, someone muttered softly.
“…Are they really doing this?”
Quiet returned to the front of the bathhouse.
But it was a different quietness than before.
In my new office.
Various reports reached me one after another.
Confusion, and backlash, are naturally to be expected.
However, the foundation cannot be bent. …Never.
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