Chapter 366: Paper
During the Months of Demons, with the snowfall closing every road, the Redwater River became the only passage left in the Western Region.
Compared to the small sailboat Petrov had made the journey in before, the Lionheart was another order of thing entirely — room enough for a galley, sleeping quarters at the stern in the old Duke’s private cabin, where windows let him look straight down at the grey current and the floating ice that slid beneath the hull. The river moved even when everything else had stopped.
“Sir, the egg soup you requested.” Sise brought in a clay jar and a ceramic bowl and set them on the table.
“Thank you.” Petrov nodded toward the second bowl. “Sit down and have some yourself. Warm up.”
After His Highness had drafted the knights of the other four noble families to Border Town, those families had wasted no time following their men — sending their households after them, then taking up whatever empty lands remained or annexing them outright. Only the Honeysuckle Family had come through the war with its forces largely intact, and had moved quickly since. They now stood well above the other four, and had begun filling the ranks of their platoon again with promising recruits. Sise was one of those recruits — not as celebrated as some of the older names, but solid, and one of the better young knights in the family.
“Yes, Sir.” He smiled, lifted the jar’s lid, and poured. “But… Sir, do you really think this is all right?”
“The witch?”
“Yes.” Sise chose his words carefully, weighing each one before setting it down. “Even though the church here burned down, it’s easy enough to rebuild. The Church will surely return to the Western Region someday. If you lay the blame entirely on Prince Roland, there’s nothing they can do to you directly. But rescuing a witch in public, arresting the church’s believers…” He hesitated. “That’s outright opposition.”
Petrov blew across the surface of the soup, watching the steam curl and break. “If rebuilding is so easy, why is that church still a pile of rubble?”
Sise blinked, uncertain.
“The Church will not return to the Western Region.” Petrov took a small sip, let the warmth settle. “An escrow’s most important duty is to understand his superior’s true intentions. His Highness normalizes education in the Stronghold, sends soldiers trained in Border Town’s methods, puts plays with obvious messages on every stage — all of it working toward the same end: weakening the Church’s hold. Since I govern this region in his name, I follow his intentions. If I can’t grasp even that much, he’ll replace me with someone who can.” He shrugged. “Preventing the church from rebuilding is simple. The stonemasons and carpenters have their warnings. Even if the believers wanted to rebuild on their own, the Rats wouldn’t allow any craftsman to take the work.”
“But the Church itself—”
“Since His Highness did it, he’s not afraid of their retaliation. Which means he’s confident he can hold them off. If they ever set foot in the Western Region again, it will mean the prince has failed. If he fails, I won’t keep my seat in the Stronghold regardless.” Petrov looked at him over the bowl. “You understand this.”
Sise was quiet. Then: “Do you think Prince Roland can defeat the Church’s army?”
“Who knows?” Petrov shook his head and smiled — a merchant’s smile, pricing risk without sentimentality. “A year ago, no one thought he could fend off Duke Ryan’s knights.” He stood, lifted the jar. “I’m going to check on the girl. She might be hungry.”
The girl’s name was Paper.
Only orphans acquired names like that — names given not with tenderness but by necessity, reaching for the nearest thing at hand.
Since boarding the ship, she had not moved from her place in the below-deck cabin. She sat on bare planking, back against the curved hull, arms wrapped around her knees, entirely still. Her hands had gone red with cold and she was visibly shivering. For safety’s precaution, Petrov had placed a God’s Stone of Retaliation around her neck. His Highness kept insisting that witches were ordinary people — but someone with powers like hers, in a state of fear, was a variable Petrov wasn’t prepared to leave unmanaged.
“Why aren’t you in the hammock?” He pointed at the canvas sling hanging across the cabin. Sailors’ sleeping arrangements were rough enough, but they were warm.
“I’d get it dirty,” she said, barely above a whisper.
“Sailors aren’t cleaner than you.” He found a dry patch of planking and sat. “This journey takes three days. Are you going to sit like this the entire time? I’m worried you’ll starve before we reach Border Town.”
She looked up. “Border Town?”
“Didn’t I say? You’re going to a place fit for witches to live.” He uncorked the jar. “Drink some of this. Then get in the hammock.”
She didn’t argue this time. It was apparent she was starving — she drank without waiting for the soup to cool, taking it straight from the jar, barely flinching. Petrov watched her. Thin as wire, hair matted with dirt and something worse, her clothes a collection of salvaged scraps with holes worn through in three places. She looked no different from any of the other orphans who moved through Longsong Stronghold’s outer districts — and there were always more of them.
“The boy who was protecting you,” Petrov said. “Your orphan friend?”
“Snaketooth.” She swallowed, pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth for warmth. “He… often brought us food.” A pause. “If I go with you, you won’t… arrest him? He’s not a witch.”
“Of course not.” He kept his face neutral. “He isn’t important.” But the phrase had caught his attention: often brought us food. There were few like that in the slums. Hunger drove people inward — it took something unusual to keep giving when you barely had enough for yourself. And the name Snaketooth sounded like a Rat’s name.
“You said ‘us,’” he said. “Were there other witches besides you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just orphans.”
Some small tension in his chest eased. “So what was that woman talking about — using your abilities in public? I’ve never heard of a witch doing that.”
Paper was quiet for a moment, as though measuring how much to say. “It was Snaketooth’s idea. He said I could help the residents clear snow off their rooftops in exchange for food, and no one would go hungry. The theater puts on stories about witches all the time. He said no one is afraid of them now, and as long as I was willing, he could negotiate with the adults.”
Resourceful child. Petrov felt the corner of his mouth twitch. Knew how to make use of what he had. Just underestimated how long the Church’s roots hold.
“And did it work? Did you get food in exchange?”
“Um…” She looked down. “I cleared three rooftops. One family chased me away. The other two gave me half a loaf of bread and a pancake. But when I got to the fourth…”
The woman had been waiting. Petrov set his hand briefly on top of her matted head — one brief touch, the way you’d steady something fragile before moving on. “Get some rest when you’re done. I’ll send someone for you at dinnertime.”
Three days later, the Lionheart came around the river’s final bend and the harbor of Border Town opened ahead.
Chapter 366: Paper
Translator: Meh/TransN Editor: – –
After the snowfall during the Months of the Demons, the Redwater River became the only path in the entire Western Region that could still be traveled.
Compared to the small sailboat Petrov used before, the Lionheart was much more spacious. It had room for a simple kitchen, so that even during travels, the passengers could eat piping hot food.
His bedroom naturally was the single bedroom at the stern that the Duke used to live in, which was essentially the poop of the boat. It had windows that allowed Petrov to see the currents and floating ice running under his feet.
“Sir, the egg soup you demanded.” The knight carried a clay jar and a ceramic bowl into his room.
“Thanks for the trouble.” Roland nodded and said. “You should sit down and have a bowl to warm yourself up.”
After His Highness drafted all the knights of the other four noble families to Border Town, the first thing those nobilities did was to send the knights’ families over as well. All the empty lands left behind were used for soliciting new knights, or directly taken up by the nobilities themselves.
Only the Honeysuckle Family didn’t suffer too many losses in this war, and they actually expanded swiftly after they were placed in charge of Longsong Stronghold. Now, they were high above the other four families and still owned a relatively complete platoon of knights. Sise, the knight next to him, was a member of this platoon. Although he was not as well-known as Morning Light, he was still one of the more outstanding young knights.
“Yes, Sir.” He smiled, opened the lid of the jar, and poured a bowl of soup for Petrov. “But… Sir, do you really think this is alright?”
“Are you talking about the witch?”
“Yes. Even though the church was burned down, it’s pretty easy to rebuild it, and the church will surely return to the Western Region someday. If you place all the blame on Prince Roland, there won’t be anything they can do. However, you rescued a witch in public and arrested the believers of the church…” The knight hesitated and continued, “That’s an outright opposition to them.”
“If it’s easy to rebuild it, then why is that place still a pile of rubbles?” Petrov blew on his fragrant egg soup. “The church won’t ever come back to the Western Region again.”
Sise blinked confusedly and didn’t seem convinced.
After the egg soup had slightly cooled, Petrov took a little sip and puffed a cloud of smoke in satisfaction. “As an escrow, my most important duty is to figure out the true intentions of my superior. The real purpose of His Highness’ efforts to normalize education in the Stronghold, utilize the newly trained Border Town soldiers, and act out plays with obvious messages was to weaken the church’s influence. Since I’m the caretaker of the Stronghold under His Highness, I have to follow his intentions in governing this area. If I can’t even figure this out, he’ll probably replace me with someone else.” Petrov shrugged. “Preventing the church from being rebuilt is as easy as lifting a hand—the stonemasons and carpenters should have all gotten their warnings. Even if the believers want to rebuild the church on their own, the Rats won’t let these artisans work for them.”
“But the church…”
“Since His Highness did it, he’s not afraid of the church’s retribution, which is to say that he’s confident that he can fend off the church. If they can still set foot in the Western Region, it’ll mean the prince has failed. If he fails, I won’t be able to sit on the Stronghold throne anymore. I think you can understand this.”
“Do you think Prince Roland can defeat the church’s army?” Sise asked.
“Who knows?” Petrov shook his head, smiling. “A year ago, no one thought that he could fend off Duke Ryan’s knights.” He stood and lifted up the jar. “I’ll go check on the little girl, who may be hungry.”
…
The girl’s name was Paper.
There was no doubt that only an orphan could have such a meaningless name.
Ever since she boarded the boat, she stayed silently in the cabin under the deck. Even when her hands were frozen and red, and her body was trembling in the cold, she didn’t make a sound. For safety reasons, Petrov still placed a God’s Locket of Retribution onto her. Although His Highness kept claiming that witches were just like normal people, he still didn’t fully believe that someone with such extraordinary powers could be like a normal person— even the slightest wrong move could end up in being hurt.
“Why aren’t you lying in the blanket?” Petrov pointed at the hammock hanging in the cabin. Cabin space was limited, so sailors usually slept in suspended hammocks, and used coarse linen blankets. Although it wasn’t the most comfortable thing, it was still warm.
“I’ll get it dirty,” she whispered.
“Sailors can’t be any cleaner than you.” He found a relatively dry spot and sat down. “This journey takes three days. Are you just going to sit like this the entire time? I’m worried that you’ll starve to death before we even reach Border Town.”
“Border Town?” Paper stared in confusion.
“Didn’t I tell you? You’re going to a place fit for witches to live in.” Petrov opened the jar. “Drink some hot soup and go lie on the hammock.”
This time, the girl did not refuse. It was obvious that she was starved as she began drinking directly from the jar without the fear of burning her tongue.
Petrov shook his head. She was as skinny as a monkey, her hair was matted with dirt, and there were holes all over her clothes, which she probably found somewhere. At a glance, she seemed no different from all the other orphans in the Stronghold.
“Who’s he, the boy protecting you?” He asked, “Your orphan friend?”
“Snaketooth. He… often brought us… food to eat,” Paper swallowed the soup, stuck out her tongue, and mumbled. “If I go with you, you won’t… arrest him, right? He’s not… a witch.”
“Of course,” Petrov said expressionlessly. “He isn’t important.” The phrase “often brought us food to eat” slightly surprised him. There were few people like that boy in the slums. Usually, a lack of food pushed people to steal from each other—people who were already struggling to survive rarely had the energy to worry about others. And the name Snaketooth… sounded a bit like a Rat.
At that thought, he couldn’t help but ask, “You said ‘us’ – were there other witches besides you?”
“No.” Paper shook her head. “All of the others were just orphans.”
This relieved Petrov a little. “So what was that old bat talking about when she said you were using your abilities to clear snow? This’s the first time I’ve heard about a witch who used her abilities in public.”
“It was Snaketooth’s idea. He said that I could help the residents clear the snow on their roofs in exchange for food, so no one would go hungry. The theater puts on stories about witches all the time, so no one is afraid of witches now. As long as I’m willing to do it, he can negotiate with the adults.”
“It is that so.” Petrov thought, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk. “This kid is quite interesting. He knew how to make the most of his resources, but he underestimated the church’s influence.” Then, he asked, “So, did you get food in exchange?”
“Um…” Paper bowed her head. “I cleaned three roofs. One family chased me away, while the other two gave me half a loaf of bread and a pancake. However, when I got to the fourth…”
She met that hateful old woman. Petrov patted her head. “Get some rest when you’re done drinking. I’ll send someone to get you when it’s dinnertime.”
Three days later, the Lionheart arrived in the harbor of Border Town.