Chapter 454: Pensions and Punishment
Three days later, Roland made a speech at the theater of Longsong Stronghold.
He had asked Petrov to distribute the facts of the rebellion to the city beforehand — not rumor, not conjecture, but the shape of what happened and why. He’d sent Maggie to Border Town to bring Echo back. The audience was smaller than he’d expected; spring was nominally here, but the snow showed no interest in the announcement, and most of the city had stayed indoors. What he had was the Second Army and their families, drawn by his standing promise that soldiers killed in action would be compensated. They had come, all of them.
They were what he needed. The Second Army were ordinary men — not knights, not professional soldiers in the old sense. Word moved through people like that. Once the seed was planted, it grew.
“Good morning, my subjects. I’m the lord of the Western Region, Roland Wimbledon.” He surveyed the theater — faces upturned, cautious, waiting to hear what kind of lord announced himself. “Most of you have already heard my name. First, I want to express my grief for those who were injured or killed in the rebellion. This was a conspiracy planned in King’s City. Timothy has tried to wage war against us repeatedly, and this time four families of the Western Region chose to help him rather than stand with their own people. The tragedy belongs to him and to them.”
He didn’t linger on the particulars. People knew the story already — they’d had it in their houses for three days, in taverns and in churches and at water sources. Formal speeches were less persuasive than the version that traveled by mouth.
He moved to the numbers.
“During the rebellion, fifty-six of the Second Army’s one hundred and twelve soldiers were killed. Forty-eight civilians died in the looting and arson. Twelve homes were reduced to ash.” His voice dropped. “I apologize to the subjects of Longsong Stronghold. As the lord of this territory, I failed in my obligations to you.”
A murmur ran through the theater. Roland had expected it — a royal apology to civilians was not part of any tradition these people had ever encountered. Some looked baffled. Some looked moved. He considered neither reaction surprising. A ruler who treated people as his equals was not a concept the Western Region had been given time to understand yet. He would give them time.
“Those deaths will not go uncompensated. Soldiers killed in battle will receive a proper burial, and their families will receive a pension of five gold royals.” He paused. “Additionally, they may claim food and fuel from the City Hall every month, for as long as they need it. This is the same arrangement the First Army has always received. Soldiers who join the Second Army today will receive the same.”
The silence that greeted this was the silence of disbelief rather than indifference. He could read it in the faces. Gold royals. Relief rations that hadn’t been cut with sand and leaves. They had heard promises before.
Roland clapped twice.
Two soldiers from the First Army carried a vault to the stage. Petrov and Iron Axe followed them up. “I have the list of the fallen here. Governor Petrov Hull will distribute the pensions now.”
When the soldiers tipped the vault and the gold royals scattered across the table, the mood shifted. Not quite enthusiasm — not yet — but something opening.
“Ayat — First Gun Battalion, Second Army.”
“Chapiter — First Gun Battalion, Second Army.”
Iron Axe read the names one by one, and the families came forward: one at a time, shaking, bowing, taking the coins in both hands. Some knelt. The theater became loud in a particular way — not chaotic, but alive. Roland felt Nightingale’s hands settle on his waist, a quiet signal: watch the crowd, stay still.
No accidents. By noon, everyone had received their pension.
Roland raised his arm for quiet. “Those who lost their homes in the fighting will also receive shelter and food, distributed by assigned staff until the Months of the Demons end.”
“Your Highness —” A voice from the middle of the audience, carrying easily, a question that sounded spontaneous. Roland recognized it: Echo’s gift, doing its work. “What happens after the Months of the Demons?”
“The City Hall will have opened a great many jobs by then — competitive wages and conditions. As long as you’re willing to work, you won’t go hungry.” He raised his right hand. “The Western Region will not forget those who have contributed. Neither will I.”
The audience raised their right hands in answer. His men moved through the crowd with porridge, and for a little while the theater was warm.
By afternoon the theater was packed beyond its seats, people crowding the hallways, crouching in the aisles — everyone waiting for the trial. Roland had always found this impulse human and consistent across every world he’d lived in. People loved to see consequences administered in public. Perhaps it was the only form of justice that felt real, witnessed like this, in a room full of strangers.
He took a seat in a box on the second floor and watched.
The verdicts had been settled long before. Iron Axe read the charges; Petrov read the sentences. The prisoners were escorted from the stage to the Stronghold Square. When some victims’ family members rushed the condemned, the First Army let it run as long as no one’s life was threatened. Nobody intervened on behalf of men who had killed and burned knowing exactly what came next.
In the end, a hundred and thirty-two prisoners were sentenced to death. Six were great nobles — hanged, given the privilege of the rope. The others, mercenaries and guards and servants, were shot. It was the first time firearms had been used for execution in the Western Region.
Nine hundred more who had participated without directly killing were imprisoned. They would go to the North Slope Mine in batches.
The nobles who had challenged Roland’s authority in the Western Region were gone.
The following day he summoned the innocent nobles to the castle hall.
The cleanup was only beginning. He still had a great deal of work ahead before the region would run the way he needed it to. The most important step was what came next: establishing a new order.
Chapter 454: Pensions and Punishment
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Roland made a speech at the theater of Longsong Stronghold three days later.
To advertise the speech, he asked Petrov to relate the details of the rebellion to the entire city beforehand and also instructed Maggie to bring Echo from Border Town.
There was a smaller audience than he had expected. Although it was already spring, the endless snow stopped people from going outside.
Fortunately, driven by the prince’s promise that “soldiers killed in action will be well compensated”, all members of the Second Army and their families came to the theater. It would take Roland some time to earn trust from the rest of his subjects, but Roland believed the best marketing was word of mouth. Once the seed was sown, it would spread its roots to more people. This was the reason he insisted on an army consisting of ordinary men.
They were as sharp as swords, as impregnable as fortresses, and perfect role models for publicity.
“Good morning, my subjects. I’m the lord of the Western Region, Roland Wimbledon. I believe most of you have already heard my name.” Roland surveyed the audience and continued, “First of all, I’d like to express my deepest sorrow and grief for those who were injured or lost their lives in the rebellion. This was a conspiracy plotted in King’s City. In order to disturb the peaceful Western Region, Timothy has tried to wage war against us numerous times. Unfortunately, the four families of Western Region didn’t side with the people, but instead helped the wicked perpetuate wicked deeds, thus causing this tragedy.”
The prince did not linger on the details of the rebellion. Compared with a formal speech, people were usually more interested in the rumors circulated in taverns. Therefore, he soon switched to the more popular topic of compensation after a brief introduction.
“During the rebellion, 56 out of 112 soldiers in the Second Army were killed in action. In addition, rebels looted and burned the residences, leading to 48 deaths among civilians and reducing 12 properties to ashes,” Roland spoke in a low voice. “I hereby apologize to the subjects in Longsong Stronghold. As the lord of the territory, I’ve failed to fulfill my obligations.”
The prince’s words stirred up the audience, who apparently had never heard any royal family members apologize to civilians. Many of them were shocked and startled, but Roland thought this was the attitude a lord should have. He was not as inscrutably arrogant as other nobles, who always treated civilians with an air of scorn and condescension. History taught him that a ruler would not be truly accepted by his people unless he viewed them as his equals.
“I promise that those people won’t die for nothing! Not only would soldiers killed in battle receive a proper burial, but their families would also receive a pension of five gold royals. Plus, they can apply for food and charcoals from the City Hall as additional compensation every month in the future. This pension plan is exactly the same as the First Army’s, and I assure you subjects who join the Second Army as of today will also be equally compensated!”
Few people cheered for the prince’s promise. Apparently, most of them were skeptical about Roland’s alleged pension plan. Corruption and briberies among officials were normal on this land, so even winter relief rations were sometimes mixed with sand and leaves. How could they possibly believe that they would receive gold royals?
Nevertheless, Roland had already thought of a solution to maximize the effects of his advertising. He clapped his hands, and two soldiers from the First Army came up to the stage with a vault, followed by Petrov and Iron Axe. “I’ve got a list of the soldiers who sacrificed themselves in the battle
here. Now the governor of Longsong Stronghold, Petrov Hull, will distribute pensions to you personally!”
When the soldiers dumped the shiny gold royals on the table, the audience finally became a little more enthusiastic.
“Ayat, from the First Gun Battalion of the Second Army!”
“Chapiter, from the First Gun Battalion of the Second Army!”
“…”
As Iron Axe slowly read out the names on the list, the soldiers’ family members went up to the stage one by one and took the gold royals with excitement, bowing and kneeling in gratitude. For a time the theater was so chaotic that Roland felt Nightingale lay her hands upon his waist.
Fortunately, there were no accidents. By the time everybody had received their pensions, it was almost noon. Roland waved his arm to silence the murmuring audience. “Those who lost their homes during the war will also receive a shelter and food. Food will be delivered to you by assigned staff until the Months of the Demons end.”
“Y-Your Highness, what about after the Months of the Demons?” asked someone in a loud voice. Of course, the “inquirer” was created by Echo.
“By then, the City Hall will have created a great number of jobs with competitive salaries and benefits. As long as you’re willing to work hard, you don’t need to worry about food!” Roland raised his right hand and announced, “The Western Region won’t forget those who have contributed, and neither will I!”
This time his speech received a warm welcome as the audience raised their right hands in response. While the subjects cheered for the speech, Roland instructed his men to distribute the porridge, bringing people’s high spirits to a peak.
By the afternoon, many more people had gathered at the theater. Since all the seats were occupied, many people squatted in the hallway, obviously waiting to watch the trial.
It seems everybody loves to see a prisoner be prosecuted, both in the world I used to live in and the current one.
Roland asked Iron Axe and Petrov to conduct the execution, while he himself sat in a box on the second floor of the theater as one of the spectators.
The verdict had been reached long before. The prisoners were led onto the stage and lined up on their knees in front of the spectators, with armed soldiers standing solemnly behind them. Iron Axe read out the counts, and Petrov the verdicts, after which the soldiers escorted them to the execution ground, the Stronghold Square.
At the sight of the prisoners, some of the victims’ family members went up to tussle with them. As long as the fight was not life-threatening, the First Army just stood by. Nobody took pity on these scoundrels, who should have known the subsequent consequences the moment they committed murder and plunder.
In the end, 132 prisoners were sentenced to death, six of whom were great nobles. The rest were mercenaries, guards, and servants. The execution methods varied. Since gallows were limited in number, only the nobles had the privilege to be hanged, whereas others were shot. It was also the first time firearms were used for execution.
The other 900 people who had participated in the rebellion but had not committed murder were imprisoned, awaiting to be sent to the North Slope Mine in batches.
Now, Roland had weeded out all the nobles who challenged his authority in the Western Region.
The following day, he summoned the innocent nobles to the castle hall.
As it was just the beginning of the cleanup, he still had a lot of work to do before he could truly rule this region.
The most important step was to establish a new order.