Chapter 481: The City of Neverwinter
On the morning of the designated Groundbreaking Day, Roland rose early.
He shaved the stubble from his face, bound his long grey hair with a simple band, and trimmed his brows with small scissors. A year of living in this world had made him entirely self-sufficient in such things—no maid required. He looked at his blurry reflection in the silver mirror and thought, with some amusement, that the right wide-sleeved robe would complete the image of a reclusive Taoist hermit.
Satisfied enough with this, he went to his office.
Barov was already there.
“Your Highness.” A bow. “The flying messenger has already departed for Longsong Stronghold. It should arrive at the Stronghold castle within the half hour.”
“Good. Is the venue ready?”
“Completed by yesterday afternoon. It should hold the entire population of the town.”
“Well done.” Roland turned to the window.
The Impassable Mountain Range and the Misty Forest still lay under white—a field of unbroken snow from base to tree line. But the morning sun was already casting gold across it, and in the streets below he could see moving figures, all trending toward the rubble city wall area to the west.
That wall had served its purpose. Constructed in haste from concrete during last year’s siege, it had held the line against the demonic beasts—a principal defense in a desperate season. Now it had become a fault line between the inner town and its outer edges; a marker of division that Roland did not like. He intended to tear it down eventually, all but the gate tower and a symbolic gap where the original breach had been. But for today, it had another use. He had chosen the mid-section of the wall as the site for the ceremony, because the central square could not hold what he was expecting.
The plan was synchronized. A flying messenger would bring the announcement to Petrov in Longsong Stronghold at the same moment Roland stepped onto the stage—two cities learning of their merger in a single instant. The grey falcon, he thought, soaring over the Redwater River right now with a paper slip clipped to its leg, never knowing what it carries. From the moment it lands, Border Town and Longsong Stronghold will become history.
“Let’s go.” He turned away from the window.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Barov smiled.
Petrov Hull climbed the steps of the wooden stage in Longsong Stronghold and looked out over the square.
There were not many people. Far fewer than during the oatmeal distribution the week before.
This did not surprise him. People arranged their priorities simply: food first, clothes second. A Groundbreaking ceremony, however elaborate, did not rank. Even to Petrov it seemed like a somewhat unnecessary occasion.
The Months of Demons had ended, but the City Hall’s applicant numbers for construction labor still fell short of their targets. The posting had been up for a week, and recruits had not reached half the required quota. Meanwhile, the criminal element had reorganized itself rapidly—the police department’s report queue was growing, and Rene Medde had complained to him in person that the arrest unit needed twice the manpower it currently had.
This all matched Petrov’s expectations.
People were as they were: lazy, greedy, rarely perspicacious. His Highness spent enormous effort on their behalf—but what came back? The thing that puzzled Petrov most, he had to admit, was where Roland Wimbledon’s confidence in them came from. The prince was unquestionably of royal blood, yet he governed as though he genuinely believed in the people he governed. Petrov could not find the error in Roland’s reasoning, but he could not find the foundation of it either.
No matter. He was firmly bound to the prince’s chariot, and he had chosen to drive it faithfully.
An eagle’s cry cut the air above the square. A grey shape banked through the brightening sky.
Petrov unfolded his speech.
“Your Highness—it’s nearly time.” Barov’s voice came from behind him.
The sun had climbed halfway up the sky. The sundial’s shadow touched nine o’clock. Roland nodded and walked to the tower railing.
The crowd that greeted him was enormous. On both sides of the city wall, shoulder to shoulder, more than twenty thousand people had gathered. Their chatter fractured into a wave of cheers the moment they saw him—hands raised, voices lifting as one. The sound was not applause. It was something that came from inside a chest rather than from the palms.
Roland raised a hand until the crowd settled.
“Greetings, my subjects.”
Echo’s voice-carrying ability spread his words across the whole town.
“I believe you already know what is about to happen today. This small town, built to service the North Slope Mine, is about to become a real city.”
He paused. “In the past, the Months of Demons was a nightmare for Border Town—everyone fled to the Stronghold for shelter. Now, we have built a fortress here. Osmond Ryan, who wanted to destroy the Western Region, has fallen. The church, which wanted to burn witches and enslave the people, has been driven from this land. Even Timothy Wimbledon, who dared to raise his hand against me, has failed—even if he sets the entire Southern and Eastern Regions on fire, this town stands unharmed. The refugees who came here know this better than anyone.”
The crowd answered him back—voices rising with specific grievances and specific facts, the anger of people who had actually lived through what he described:
“He burned Eagle City and plundered the Port of Clearwater!”
“The new king’s men cleaned out Valencia—no different from bandits, worse in some cases!”
“He took my son. Said he needed guards. Fifteen years old—”
Roland raised his hand for quiet. “Those tragedies will not happen again. This is why the new city is being built. Only by uniting more people can we face our enemies and show them the cost of their recklessness.” He paused, and then gave them what he had decided to give, the thing Barov would object to and the people would remember. “And this is my city, too. I vow that Roland Wimbledon will never leave any of his people behind. Even when the Kingdom of Graycastle is unified—even then—he will not leave this place.”
Cheers erupted at the base of the wall.
“Your Highness, you—” Barov began.
Roland waved him silent. “This will be the new capital of the Kingdom of Graycastle. The kingdom will be reborn here. I believe that even if an endless winter came, this city would remain warm as spring.” He paused a final time, then raised his right hand.
“From this day forward, Border Town and Longsong Stronghold become one. And the name of that city—”
He never finished the sentence.
“Long live the City of Neverwinter!”
“Long live—long live the City of Neverwinter!”
The chant rose from twenty thousand voices at once, louder than he had expected, louder perhaps than the crowd had expected—a sound that carried into the mountains, shook loose a mist of snow from the higher slopes, and rolled back from the peaks in diminishing echoes long after the voices had gone quiet.
Roland looked out at his people and felt, in the center of his chest, the particular feeling of a thing beginning. These were sparks. He had known it from the start. One day he would see these sparks become a fire large enough to change what this world was.
The echoes rolled on through the mountains for a long while.
Chapter 481: The City of Neverwinter
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
On the designated Groundbreaking Day, Roland got up very early.
He shaved the stubble on his face, tied up his long gray hair with a simple band, and used a small pair of scissors to trim his brows. After a year of living in this world, he was very experienced in grooming himself and did not need a maid’s help.
Looking at his blurry reflection in the silver mirror, he felt that he somehow had the divine manner of a reclusive Taoist priest, if he put on a wide robe.
Roland nodded in satisfaction and left for his office.
There was Barov waiting for him in the room.
“Your Highness,” he said with a bow, “a flying messenger has already been sent to Longsong Stronghold and will probably arrive at the Stronghold castle in half an hour.”
“Uh-huh, is the venue set up?”
“It was all completed by yesterday afternoon, and right now it seems enough to hold the entire population of the town,” replied the City Hall Director.
“Great job.” praised Roland, and he slowly walked to the window.
The Impassable Mountain Range and the Misty Forest in the distance were still blanketed in white, and the rising sun scattered rays of golden light onto the snow. He saw moving figures on nearby town streets heading for the rubble city wall area in the West of the town.
As a defense line against demonic beasts last year, this rubble city wall that was hastily constructed with concrete played a principal role in the fight. However, it had now become a border between the inner and outer areas of the town. Roland didn’t like this kind of clear separation between the rich and the poor, so he decided to tear it down sooner or later, except the symbolic gap area and gate tower. However, before that, he could still utilize it. He chose the middle section of the rubble city wall as the site for the Groundbreaking event since it could hold far more people than the square.
According to his plan, in order to strengthen the impact of the Groundbreaking event on citizens of both cities, Longsong Stronghold would hold a Groundbreaking announcement at the same time, which would be synchronized by flying messengers. When the first messenger reached Petrov, Roland would step on to the stage to give a speech.
“Right now, the gray falcon carrying the news must be soaring among the mountains and over the Redwater River, with a paper slip fastened to its claw as usual,” thought Roland, “but it doesn’t know the significance of the news it’s carrying. From the moment it lands, Border Town and Longsong Stronghold will become history.”
“Let’s go.” He collected his thoughts and turned around.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Barov said with a smile.
…
Petrov Hull walked slowly onto the constructed wooden stage and looked around.
There were not that many people on the square, at least not as many as during the oatmeal distribution last week.
This was not surprising, since people were mainly only concerned with food and clothes. Compared to the free oatmeal, a Groundbreaking ceremony would not matter that much.
It even seemed rather unnecessary to Even Petrov himself.
The Months of Demons had ended, but the City Hall still did not receive as many applications for job as they had expected. The notice calling for handymen and construction workers was put up a week ago, but the number of recruits hadn’t even reached half of the target amount. Meanwhile, Rats seemed to rise back from the ashes, as the police department received more and more reports every day and only verifying these reports was a painstaking amount of work. His friend Rene Medde complained to him that the arresting team needed twice the men to handle its workload.
This actually met Petrov’s expectations.
The people were just like that, lazy, greedy, and unintelligent… His Highness spent so much time and efforts on them, but what could he get in return? The thing confused him the most was that Roland Wimbledon was clearly a member of the royal family, so where did that strange confidence in the people come from?
No matter what, he was firmly tied to the prince’s chariot, so all he could do was to follow him faithfully.
An eagle cawed in the distance, and a gray figure appeared in the sky.
Petrov opened his prepared speech draft.
…
“Your Highness, it’s almost the time.” Barov reminded.
The sun had risen halfway into the sky, and the sundial’s shadow pointed to nine o’clock. Roland nodded and walked to the tower railing. As soon as the people saw the prince, their chatter turned into warm cheers, and they all raised their hands to create waves throughout the crowd.
Area on both sides of the city wall was packed by a dense crowd of over 20,000 people, which meant that most of the town’s residents were gathered here. Roland was glad that he was not holding this Groundbreaking ceremony in the central square, since it obviously could not offer enough space for such a huge, excited crowd.
He waved his hands to silence the cheers. “Greetings, my subjects.”
Echo’s magnifying ability allowed his voice to reverberate over the entire town.
“I believe you already know what’s about to happen today. This small town, which was built for the North Slope Mine, is soon about to become a real city.”
“In the past, the Months of Demons was a nightmare for Border Town, and everyone had to escape to Stronghold for shelter. Now, we have built a strong base here. Osmond Ryan, who wanted to ruin the Western Region, has fallen; the church, which wanted to harm witches and enslave the people, has been banished from this land; even Timothy Wimbledon, who dared to attempt to destroy me, failed—even if he set the entire Southern and Eastern Regions on fire, the town would still be safe and sound. I’m sure the refugees who fled here know this best.”
Roland’s words were quickly met with the crowd’s responses.
“That’s right. He burned down the Eagle City and plundered the Port of Clearwater!”
“The new king cleaned out Valencia. His knights acted no differently from burglars, sometimes even worse!”
“He took away my son, saying he needed to join the King’s City guards. Heavens… he’s only fifteen!”
The prince reached out his hand to quiet them. “And these tragedies will never happen again. This is why the new city is being built! Only by uniting more people, can we face our evil enemies and show them the consequences of their recklessness.” He paused. “And this is my city, too. I vow that Roland Wimbledon will never leave any of his people behind, and even if the Kingdom of Graycastle is united, he’ll never leave this place!”
A wave of cheers erupted at the foot of the city wall.
“Your Highness, you…” Barov exclaimed from behind him.
Roland waved his hand to silence him. “That’s right. This will become the new capital of the Kingdom of Graycastle, and the kingdom will be reborn! I believe that even if an endless winter arrived, this city would still be as warm as spring!” He paused for a while and raised his right hand. “From this day on, Border Town and Longsong Stronghold will become one, and its name will be…”
“Long live the City of Neverwinter!”
“Long live, long live the City of Neverwinter!”
Everyone became excited, and the deafening chants rang through the sky. A mist of snow erupted on the mountainside, and the echoes rolled endlessly through the peaks…
Roland looked at the cheering subjects and felt a great anticipation growing inside him. The sparks of revolution had been ignited, and one day, he would see these sparks turn into a giant flame that would engulf the entire land.