Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 357 - 356: Winter Snow Melts

For Gawain, whether or not to accept those exiled by the Holy Light was actually not even a question worth considering— for the rapidly developing Cecil, filled with new order from beginning to end, anyone in this era who is thrown in must be quickly molded into a qualified component of this industrial machine. Whether you used to be a believer, a noble, a merchant, or a slave, upon entering Cecil, the first thing you face is the buffering camp, then undergo long-term indoctrination and transformation, working in factories, taking classes in barracks, and growing into a glorious and qualified Cecil citizen...

This is an era where all means of propaganda and education are lagging, and the impact of the Cecil industrial and educational systems on the natives of this era is overwhelmingly powerful. Yet, their prior identity... is irrelevant to this land.

Or to put it another way, any native of this era is actually unqualified for the Magic-Industrial Society— since everyone needs to be transformed and educated before they can be useful, the only differences between people lie in how quickly and easily they can be transformed.

Of course, accepting those exiled believers of Otherworldly Gods might indeed bring extra trouble, Gawain has thought of this.

The Holy Light may have some schemes, possibly spreading some rumors in areas where their influence is strong. But anyway, these troubles are all within Gawain’s acceptable range. The southern borders aren’t the realm of the Holy Light, so the church’s slander and restrictions may only cause ripples on the Plains of the Holy Spirits. Moreover, in the face of Gawain Cecil’s inherent prestige, the slander and rumors of the church do not dare to be too rampant. Even stepping back— what if those fanatical believers of the Holy Light really resist Cecil?

Gawain’s future plans are already destined to clash with the stubborn forces of the Plains of the Holy Spirits...

Pastor Wright has left, leaving with a caravan from the territory. This pastor will return to where he began his mission— or where he was initially exiled, to witness for himself what those priests of the Holy Light really want to do.

Meanwhile, more people are flocking to the new land of Cecil.

As the weather continues to warm, the water level of the White River rises with the melting snow from the mountains, and increasingly large merchant ships appear on the river, while land transportation is gradually becoming active again. Caravans busily travel back and forth along the newly built north-south avenue (connecting Cecil Main City and the Kant Region) and east-west avenue (built along the White River, connecting Cecil Main City and Tanzan), transporting a continuous stream of production materials into this place, along with a continuous influx of people.

Through various explicit and implicit methods, the Cecil realm has earned a massive amount of wealth in alchemical potions, mining equipment, and Magic Web technology, and this wealth is being rapidly consumed, transformed into production materials and industrial populations filling this land. Initially, the daily income of Gold Coins in the territory made Aunt Heidi tremble, and seeing the daily expenditure of those Gold Coins nearly choked her— but after such a long period of honing, she finally could face these numbers calmly, and had come to accept what Gawain once said:

Development is about change, and flowing capital is the real wealth, while Gold Coins piled in a castle are just shiny metal heaps.

Traditional aristocrats are accustomed to hoarding wealth; they always pile up gold and silver, or convert them into even more expensive items in treasuries after acquiring them through various means. Aunt Heidi once thought this was the correct way for a family to accumulate wealth, but now she finally understands that sometimes spending Gold Coins is actually a faster way to increase wealth...

At the dock square, atop the high sentinel towers, Gawain, who had come to inspect, was overlooking a group of ragged people slowly moving on the western side of the square, while Cecil soldiers, clad in armor, carrying combat field packs and with Melting Swords at their waists, maintained order on the side.

An hour ago, an exceptionally large wooden ship docked, with over a hundred people disembarking from it. According to intelligence, these people were refugees from the Western Region— since last autumn, after Tanzan Town began selling mining equipment as a middleman to those noble lands with mines in the west, a large number of mine laborers and slave laborers lost their means of living. Advanced mining equipment can replace the labor of hundreds or thousands of people, and in this era, commoners have virtually no concept of "savings," so wherever mining equipment is sold, miners there go bankrupt en masse. In this era, the leader noblemen would not sustain surplus populations: for their productivity, every person not working is a mouth that eats without earning. Without a sound industrial system in their territories, they have no means of converting these surplus populations into productivity, so the only choice is to expel the surplus people.

These people are the "raw material" for the further expansion of the Cecil Magic Industry, but before that, Gawain had to remind the people beside him.

He slightly turned his head to instruct Aunt Heidi beside him, "Recently, enhance the security of the buffering camps. Scatter the new immigrants across different camps, and assign some older immigrants who have worked in factories for a while as ’Life Mentors’ in the camps, to share the benefits of working in the factories and living in the territory with the new immigrants. Finally, the territory must be prepared in advance, arranging jobs, residences, and education for each immigrant."

"Yes," Aunt Heidi nodded in response, then immediately asked, "Are you worried about so many people causing trouble?"

"The number isn’t the main issue. The main issue is that they have just lost their jobs," Gawain said, his expression serious. "Unlike previous refugees we’ve accepted, most of the recent arrivals to the territory lost their jobs due to ’machines.’"

"... Are they coming with hostility?" Aunt Heidi, being smart, quickly caught on, "Will they resent the Cecil realm?"

"No, based on the knowledge and guts of most commoners in this era, they absolutely will not, nor dare to resent the leader or the leader’s land. But they will resent the machines that caused them to lose their jobs. This resentment is quite blind, but it’s the only outlet they can think of to vent," Gawain explained. "These people do not understand the Cecil realm; they come to this land seeking a living, but surely have not imagined they’d have to deal with machines. We must make preparations for guidance in advance."

"Yes, I understand," Aunt Heidi slightly bowed her head, "But is this kind of guidance sufficient?"

"Enough. These people are not mobsters; they come to this land ultimately just to survive. As long as survival is guaranteed, hatred for the machines can easily dissipate," Gawain said flatly, "but in other places... those who only know how to introduce mining equipment, without considering the subsequent issues, the situation is quite different."

Aunt Heidi fell into deep thought because of Gawain’s words, while Gawain looked up towards the window of the lookout tower.

A figure emerged from the air and turned into a petite girl—Amber, like a nimble swallow, leapt over the windowsill and lightly landed in front of Gawain, raising her hand to pass over a small paper roll, "Intelligence!"

While taking what Amber handed over, Gawain looked at the windowsill behind her, finally unable to hold back, "You climb over the windows of the lookout tower! You don’t find climbing such a high wall troublesome?!"

Amber was not ashamed but rather proud, "For a master of shadows like me, as long as there is a shadow in the cracks of the bricks outside your tower, I can climb up along the cracks~~"

Gawain no longer paid attention to her, just casually opening the paper roll, its content entering his sight:

The Duke Loland of the Eastern Province summons back over half of the high-level knights in the territory... Winterwolf Fortress direction sees a messenger entering Anzu territory...

This is a piece of intelligence from the eastern region, news gathered by the Intelligence Agency spies who entered the eastern region together with the alchemical potion merchants from Cecil, after finally extending their channels into the East.

Gawain rubbed his hands, and the piece of paper turned to ashes in his hand, scattering with the wind.

"It seems both the King and the Emperor have already sorted out their domestic affairs..."

Aunt Heidi had also seen the contents on the paper just now and couldn’t help asking, "Is the negotiation finally about to begin?"

"Yes, but this won’t affect Cecil," Gawain nodded and then smiled lightly, "Whether it’s our King or Typhon’s Emperor, neither wants an old ancestor overseeing such a negotiation—not that I don’t have a say in issues of these two countries, but my voice is too loud, louder than theirs. So let them fuss on their own, we just focus on our development."

In the eastern region of Anzu Kingdom, land guarded by the Loland Clan, Longwind Fortress.

Duke Silas Loland stood on the high wall, gazing over the vast plains to the east.

The snow had melted for over ten days, yet remnants of white still dotted the great plains, while traces of new green shoots formed the other embellishment besides the white. The melting snow and budding green grass appeared on this yellow-brown land as if transitioning from winter to warm spring.

This compelled Duke Silas Loland to think of the events about to occur on these plains—in a sense, the end of a century-long tense confrontation between two nations and the re-signing of a peace agreement, could be considered a transition from winter to spring.

With this thought in mind, Duke Loland cast his gaze afar, where he could faintly see a fortress being constructed.

This is the venue prepared for negotiation—located in the buffer zone on the border line, a "balance point" that can be directly overseen, directly attacked, and directly protected by both countries’ border fortifications. In the next half month, the Transcendent and craftsmen of both countries will spar no expense to build a "Winterhold Castle" there, to serve as the negotiation venue for the leaders of both countries, and later as a symbol of peace between the two nations.

Clearly, the two nations co-building a new castle, instead of negotiating in any existent fortress held by either, ostensibly symbolizes peace but in reality reflects a lack of trust.

Regardless, the negotiation is already a settled matter.