Chapter 367: The First Step to Building the City
Petrov stepped off the gangplank and breathed in. He had expected the harbor smell he remembered — rot and brine and the particular sourness of old wood — but it wasn’t there. What he stood on instead was solid, newly laid planking that didn’t creak under his boot. The harbor had doubled in size since his last visit, and the boards were dense and tight, cut from good timber and fastened by someone who knew the work.
The difference, he thought, started here.
A small group of uniformed guards was already approaching. Their leader glanced at the family crest hanging from the Lionheart’s flagpole and straightened slightly.
“Are you… Sir Hull of the Honeysuckle Family?”
“Petrov Hull. I came at His Highness’s invitation.”
“Lord Iron Axe told us to expect you. Please, follow me.” The guard made a small gesture toward the road.
“We’re walking?”
“The stables have been demolished.” A brief apologetic smile. “Don’t worry — the roads are in good condition.”
He understood what good condition meant within the first hundred steps.
The road was wide and smooth, entirely cleared of snow, so dry that it left no mud on a boot heel. It was paved with small black stones fitted closely together, each interlocking with the next, the whole surface glistening faintly with moisture but solid underfoot. And it was not the only road like this — at every hundred paces there was an intersection, another road branching at right angles, all of them equally straight, equally wide, ruled out across the town like lines drawn on paper by someone with a plumb line and more patience than Petrov had ever applied to anything.
Half an hour’s walk. Not a single patch of mud.
“Sir,” Sise said, barely above a murmur. “Is this really… Border Town? Wasn’t it only a mining camp?”
“It used to be,” the guard answered, and there was something in his voice — unmistakable once you heard it — a pride that had nothing to do with birth or rank. “But since His Highness arrived, everything has changed. These roads were built six months ago. Back then there were thousands of workers on them every day. We were building a new one nearly every month.”
Petrov looked at the trees. Neat rows lining every street, planted at regular intervals, their bare winter branches reaching across the road in a way that would form a canopy in summer. Then the houses — the mud huts and rotting inns he remembered were simply gone, replaced by brick buildings of two and three stories, all built in the same style, all clearly the work of a single organized effort.
How does a man do this in one year?
He followed the guards through the castle gates, was handed off to an armored knight, and finally understood why he’d felt such disorientation since stepping off the boat: the castle, at least, was the same. Small compared to the Stronghold, unchanged from his last visit. Familiar. When the knight opened the door to the hall, Petrov felt the strangeness of the rest of the town drop away.
Roland sat on the throne at the far end.
“Welcome to Border Town,” the prince said, and smiled. “Mr. Ambassador.”
The same easy irony. The same grey eyes measuring him with what passed, in that face, for warmth. Petrov felt something he wouldn’t have expected: relief. He raised his hand to his chest and bowed. “The Honeysuckle Family pays its respects, Your Highness.”
“Have a seat.” Roland nodded. “I called you here because of a matter that concerns the future of the entire Western Region — Longsong Stronghold included.”
“Please go ahead.”
“I plan to build a city.” Roland’s voice was level, unhurried, the voice of a man describing a thing he has already decided on. “Extending westward to the Misty Forest, eastward to Longsong Stronghold, encompassing half the Western Region within its bounds. From that point on, the Stronghold becomes an eastern fortress for the new city — a first line of defense against the Church’s army — rather than an independent city in its own right.” He paused to let that settle. “In a region of that scale, one body of law and one judicial authority must govern everywhere. Enforcement will centralize to the City Hall of the new city. No noble family will retain the right to meddle in city governance — including the five main families of the Western Region.”
The shock arrived cleanly and fully. A year ago, Petrov had proposed something in this vein himself — moving the defensive line to Border Town, using the space between the two settlements. He had thought it bold then. What Roland was describing was something else entirely: swallowing Longsong Stronghold into the edge of a new city the size of a kingdom.
He wanted to push back. He could feel the objection forming. But he already knew it wouldn’t land — the prince was telling him, not asking him, and Duke Ryan’s example was there in his memory like a branded mark: permanent, instructive, unarguable.
What he could do was position himself correctly.
“You’ve said the five noble families won’t govern city affairs,” Petrov said. “So how can the Honeysuckle Family continue to serve you?”
Roland was quiet for a moment — long enough that Petrov began to count the seconds and consider whether he’d miscalculated. Then the prince smiled, and when he spoke it was with something that sounded, underneath the official tone, like genuine appreciation.
“You keep surprising me, Mr. Ambassador. Both the ransom negotiation and what you just said — that kind of wisdom is rare in a nobleman.” The smile faded into something more direct. “As long as the Honeysuckle Family accepts my rule, you can assist me in governing the Longsong region.”
“Both my father and I will always do as you—”
“I’m not speaking of individuals,” Roland interrupted, not unkindly. “I’m speaking of the family’s relationship to the land. From now on, nobles under my rule will own their land but will not govern it. Law, enforcement, policy — all of it defers to City Hall’s decrees.”
“I…” Petrov hesitated.
“Land passes through the family line, same as titles. Your industries, your farms, your workshops — all of it stays yours, with my blessing. That’s an indisputable right, and I won’t touch it. It may even flourish under the new policies.” Roland continued, unhurried. “Of course, you can also choose to return to your land and keep your feudal arrangements as they are. But when I finish building this city and begin expanding, any land I take will not be returned to its previous holder.”
He let the silence that followed do its work.
Chapter 367: The First Step to Building the City
Translator: Meh/TransN Editor: – –
Petrov stepped out of his cabin and was surprised that he was not greeted with the smell of rotting wood. There was a newly built bridge next to the boat, and the harbor had doubled in size and thudded instead of creaking when stepped on—he could tell that the planks had been laid sturdily and that the material was of great quality.
After leaving the harbor, a few uniformed guards immediately walked over. The leader of the group gave the family crest hanging on the Lionheart’s flagpole an once-over and asked, “Are you… Sir Hull of the Honeysuckle Family?”
“Yes.” Petrov nodded, feeling quite important. “I am Petrov Hull, and I came here at His Highness’ invitation.”
“Lord Iron Axe has already told us about you. Please come with me.” The guard waved his hand.
“We’re walking?” Petrov was shocked.
“Yes. All the stables have been demolished,” the guard smiled apologetically and said. “Don’t worry. The town roads are in great condition.”
Petrov soon understood what the guard meant by “great condition”.
The road was smooth and wide, and all the snow had been cleared so that there were barely even any puddles. It seemed to be paved with many little black stones that had tiny spaces between them and glistened with moisture. Furthermore, what surprised Petrov the most was that this wasn’t the only road like this. There was an intersection every hundred steps. The roads
were so straight and symmetrical that they seemed to be drawn on paper. During the half-hour walk, he didn’t see a single bit of mud.
Petrov was stunned to find that this town looked completely different from the one in his memories.
“Sir, is this really… Border Town?” Sise stared at the scenery around him. “Wasn’t it only a temporary living area for miners?”
“It used to be that way,” the guard said, smiling, “but ever since His Highness arrived, everything has been changing. Take these roads for example, they were all built six months ago. Back then, there were thousands of people working together every day, so we could practically build a new one every month.”
Petrov noticed a strong tone of pride peeking through the guard’s voice, as if he felt proud to be a member of the town.
But… this was so unbelievable! Neat rows of trees bordered every road, which he imagined to form a beautiful canopy of leaves to block out the scorching sun in summer. Then there were the houses—all the short mud huts and shabby wooden inns were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there were cleancut brick buildings with two to three stories that all shared a similar style. They obviously must have all been built by the same group of stonemasons.
How could he possibly transform a poor little town in only one year?
The shocked and confused Petrov followed the guards into the castle grounds. His guide was replaced by an armored knight, while his attendants were left to wait outside the castle walls.
When he stepped into the Lord’s castle, Petrov finally felt the same as he did one year ago.
It seemed that not much had changed here. Compared to the Stronghold castle, the prince’s was still much smaller.
The knight pushed open the door to the hall and made a motion for him to enter. Petrov immediately saw the prince sitting on the throne.
It was His Highness Roland Wimbledon.
“Welcome to Border Town,” Roland said with a smile, “Mr. ‘Ambassador’.”
It seemed the prince hadn’t changed much. For some reason, Petrov felt relieved. He raised his hand to his chest and bowed solemnly. “The Honeysuckle Family pays you our respects, Your Highness.”
“Have a seat.” The prince nodded. “I call you here because of a very important matter. It concerns the future of the entire Western Region, Longsong Stronghold naturally also included.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“I plan to build a city here, which will extend westward to the Misty Forest, eastward to Longsong Stronghold, and it’ll include half of the Western Region in its bounds. From then on, the Stronghold will be an eastern fortress for the new city and the first line of defense against the church’s army instead of an independent city like it is now,” Roland said in a methodical manner. “In such a vast and expansive region, it’s important to pass the same laws everywhere and centralize their enforcement to the City Hall of the new city. No nobility can meddle in city affairs, which includes the five main noble families of the Western Region.”
Petrov felt a sudden shock! A year ago, he had a similar idea to have Duke Ryan move the defense line against the demonic beasts to Border Town and utilize the space between the two towns. He would never have expected that the prince would use this method a year later with a much heavier hand. Turn Longsong Stronghold into a section of a city? He could only imagine how terrifyingly massive this city would be!
He felt an impulse to question the prince, but stifled his words—if the prince was telling this to him, it meant he had already made up his mind, and no one would be able to stop him from carrying out his plan.
Petrov didn’t dare to challenge the prince. Duke Ryan’s fiasco was forever burned in his mind and made him believe that this man with gray hair was unbeatable… at least by him. The only thing he could do was to reap as much profit as possible during this immense change.
“You said that the five noble families can’t meddle in city affairs, so how can the Honeysuckle Family continue to serve you?”
The prince was silent for such a long time that Petrov began to feel uneasy. Then, he chuckled and said, “You’ve really surprised me, Mr. Ambassador. Both your asking to ransom the Stronghold and your positive attitude right now are wise and calculated decisions that are rarely seen made by nobles.”
After a few words of praise, his smile faded, and he said seriously, “As long as the Honeysuckle Family is willing to accept my rule, you can continue to assist me to govern the Longsong region.”
“Both my father and I will always do as you wish—”
“I’m not talking about individuals—I’m talking about the whole area,” Roland interrupted. “From now on, the nobilities under my rule will have the ownership of their land, but not the right to govern it—whether it is regarding the law, law enforcement, or other policies, they’ll all have to defer to the decrees of the City Hall.”
“Um…” Petrov hesitated.
“Land can still be passed on through family lineage, just like titles. Any industries that your family conducts, such as farming or craftsmanship, will also belong to the Honeysuckles along with your land. That’s your indisputable right, and I promise you my blessing. Aside from governing rights, nothing will change about the land you own. It might even flourish under new policies.” The prince continued. “Of course, you can also choose to return to your land and continue to live as a feudal lord. However, when I finish building my new city and begin expanding, any land I conquer won’t belong to its original owner anymore.”