Returning from the abyss

Chapter 1439 Refugees
Violet City is still quite far from Longwind Territory, given the mobility of this team.

The horse-drawn carriages available in the countryside don't have good shock absorption, so even if you sit on a soft mat like a blanket, you'll still feel sore and aching all day, and you can only rest after traveling a short distance.

During this break, the apothecary let the two nuns read on their own while she went to Father Thorne to confirm their current route.

After a few days, the pharmacist figured out the direction Father Thorne had chosen.

First, we'll head to Rosetta in the north for supplies. Then, we'll enter a desolate region within the Toril Frontier. This area was originally a territory called the Kadoville Territory, but about ninety years ago, a plague caused by the Plague Queen Marisca ravaged the region, killing everyone within. The priests of the Church of the Dead burned everything to the ground. Although the plague has been eradicated, Marisca's withering power still pollutes the land, preventing any vegetation from sprouting. Naturally, such a place is no longer suitable for habitation. After the Duke of Toril acquired this land, he merely ordered the roads to be leveled and then left it unattended.

It will take at least three days to cross this area, so supplies need to be replenished.

Only then can one reach White Tower County, the outpost of Violet City. From White Tower County, it's another two days' journey to Violet City.

This is the efficiency of a single vehicle traveling; if it were a large convoy like this, it would take much longer.

The pharmacist didn't say anything, but simply gestured a route, and Father Thorne nodded in confirmation of her guess.

“There are several different routes to Violet City, but I plan to take the route inside Toril as much as possible to avoid further contact with the war zone. Our small force can't stop those soldiers.”

“You don’t want to pass through too many settlements, do you? You treat these people as your private property, and you don’t want them to see a good place and decide to stay,” the pharmacist said in a low voice.

“Ha… We both know the answer, there’s no need to spell it out. This isn’t a bad thing; at least they won’t suffer any particularly serious casualties along this route.” Father Thorne closed the map, still wearing that kind smile. “Or perhaps you have a better suggestion? You can bring it up if you wish.”

“No, this is a good choice,” the pharmacist said with a smile. “I’m just reminding you that no matter what you choose, you still have to pay the weekly course fees.”

"This is natural."

However, the smooth journey did not last long. Before even reaching Rosetta, they saw a large number of refugees on the road.

This is not good news. The empire's control over population movement is so-so, but ordinary people don't move around easily. A large number of migrants can only mean that a battle has been won in a certain place—and it is a battle that is not so honorable.

Generally, even if a lord wins a battle, he won't seize the other's territory; instead, he'll start negotiating a ransom. This is a tradition in internal empire wars, and few nobles will go too far, because if they do, no one will play the game of saving face with them next time.

However, "rare" does not mean "never". Within aristocratic circles, certain exceptions allowed for genuine wars of "conquest", with the most legitimate reason being revenge.

After Father Thorne's motorcade stopped, the apothecary got out and pulled over several refugees to ask them about their situation. After questioning a few people, she selected a few and led them back to the front of the car.

“Something’s not right. These people aren’t from Grand Duke Toril’s territory; they’re refugees from Grand Duke Engle’s territory.”

Father Thorne frowned upon hearing this: "Even the closest territory of the Duke of Engle is three to five days' journey from here. What are these people doing crossing the border into this area? Aren't there any villages or towns along the way that could take them in?"

“Father, you don’t know, you can’t just stay anywhere at the border these days. We’re here for safety reasons,” a fairly strong refugee said. “Grand Duke Englai lost a battle and is now conscripting soldiers everywhere around here, anyone over twelve years old, regardless of gender. Those people are like madmen! They even break into villages at night to arrest people!”

The man spoke fairly clearly, and Father Thorne quickly got the information he needed.

Prince Haffman had no intention of engaging in a war of words with Grand Duke Engley; his provocative declaration was merely a pretext for war. Grand Duke Engley originally intended to fight according to noble custom, but Haffman inexplicably produced a Silver Cavalry force.

The Silver Cavalry belong to the Empire's high-ranking knightly orders, each unit consisting of at least a hundred warriors, all proficient in both martial arts and magic. The most famous Silver Cavalry is the Silver Lamp Knights, one of the three major knightly orders in the capital, with two thousand members responsible for guarding and patrolling the capital. At least one-third of them have noble blood.

The qualifications of Silver Cavalry are jointly recognized by the Knights Guild, the Arcane Research Institute, the Warriors' House, and the Royal Family. Each individual Silver Cavalryman is equivalent to a hundred men in combat. If such a team were to join the battle, it would essentially tip the scales.

After all, even if the dukes raised such elite troops, they would only raise them as trusted generals and confidants; it was impossible for them to find a hundred of them and send them out as a whole. But Prince Haffman was, after all, a member of the royal family. Even if he couldn't command the Silver Cavalry, he probably had other ways to find some Silver Cavalry.

"Good heavens, a Silver Cavalryman! Grand Duke Englai's defeat was well-deserved." Knight Gael also came over and couldn't help but exclaim upon hearing the news.

"So, Grand Duke Engley's main force was completely scattered?" Father Thorne asked.

“Anyway, there are defeated soldiers everywhere, and conscripts everywhere. We all ran away, and we don’t even know how bad the fighting is.” The group of refugees complained in unison. “How could we dare to stay? Luckily, there’s no fighting here in Toriljong, so we ran here. Some of them even went to neighboring Pogartjong. We really don’t know…”

“Let’s not talk about what’s going on next door,” Father Thorne waved his hand. “Where are you planning to run to? Rosetta? It’s a good place, but precisely because it’s a good place, it won’t accept refugees easily.”

"Huh?" Those people were dumbfounded.

Like the Longwind Territory before it, the governance of many territories within the Empire was rather lax. A district was simply formed around a lord's castle as people built houses. However, towns established in key locations differed from these territories. While the town mayors and administrators did not possess noble titles, their power generally derives directly from appointments by the Grand Duke. Except for taxation, everything else went directly to the Grand Duke without needing to report to the local lord. In a sense, this was also a means for the Grand Duke to plant spies within his own territories across various counties, strengthening his rule.

It's easy to imagine that these city lords and town mayors are far more capable of governing than those in Changfeng Territory. But precisely because of this, the screening of migrants in such places is quite strict, and the household registration system is different from the loose territories of most empires.

“You’re on the wrong route. Don’t you have a map?” Father Thorne smiled and comforted them. The pharmacist, seeing his expression, knew that he was probably already planning to take advantage of these refugees.

Population is a precious resource. If Father Thorne can absorb some of the refugee caravans, he might be able to gain more influence in Violet City. That is, provided he can maintain control. The apothecary glanced at the convoy that had stopped behind them.

Several knights had already started distributing lunch food in bags. With unified management and distribution, although they couldn't eat their fill, they wouldn't go hungry either. With such conditions, it was indeed possible to control these ordinary people.

Moreover, he had also brought the pharmacist along, and illness, one of the biggest threats on a journey, could usually be dealt with. The pharmacist naturally wouldn't abandon the patient, nor would he ask Father Thorne for money for it.

But how would Violet City resolve this? Even a small town has strict household registration controls, and as the capital of Duke Toril, the management there is even more stringent. Even if the church has some extradition authority, how could Father Thorne, an outsider priest, have the audacity to cram so many people in?

The pharmacist was eager to see. Of course, Father Thorne, relying on his clergy status and his deceptively charming face and smooth talk, quickly rallied a group of refugees to join him. According to the group's rules, they kept their own valuables and belongings, while handing over their food for unified management.

"Your team is almost a thousand people now," the pharmacist teased.

“I’m not feeding them for free.” Father Thorne gestured to the knights who had led the refugees inside. “I chose those who were either physically strong or had families but no particularly old or young members. Of course, it’s unlikely that someone with elderly or young members would have traveled this far. Pharmacist, you don’t usually pay attention to what these people are doing following us around, do you?”

"I know you're having these people pass on their skills to each other," the pharmacist chuckled. "Farming, blacksmithing, weaving, carpentry—the people you've trained all know skills for making a living. Do you expect them to become all-rounders?"

“All-powerful? How could that be… It’s just being prepared. Who knows when we might need what kind of talent…” Father Thorne’s gaze was somewhat distant. “They are my property, so I must polish them all to a high standard so that they can be displayed to others.”

"What about Veronica and Vanessa?" the pharmacist suddenly asked.

Father Thorne answered without hesitation: “They are my successors, not property. Property is written on paper, but successors are put on the table.”

Since he had such a plan, the pharmacist decided not to say anything more. As long as Veronica and Vanessa weren't treated like tools, that was fine. As for the specifics, we'd see how they performed.

Not long after, the group set off again, having grown somewhat larger. Although they didn't have any decent weapons, with a carriage leading the way, they no longer looked like a group of refugees.

—It just doesn't seem like it. To the pharmacist, this group of people were essentially still refugees, only they hadn't fled in such a sorry state.

On the rest of the journey, Father Thorne selected some more people to join his group, including some with mild symptoms. The pharmacist led Veronica and Vanessa in practice.

When it comes to practical matters, the differences between the two become even more apparent.

Veronica meticulously inquires about the patient's symptoms, the duration of the illness, environmental conditions, and a whole host of other questions. Even though she may not be a master of all four diagnostic methods (observation, auscultation, inquiry, and palpation), she strives to accurately identify the symptoms within the scope of her knowledge and then prescribes the appropriate medication. While occasional misjudgments do occur, this is ultimately due to her limited experience, and with a pharmacist as a backup, things are generally manageable.

Vanessa's approach, however, was somewhat reckless. She also memorized the books perfectly, but her treatment method prioritized trial and error. She guessed the illness based on the symptoms, prepared her own medications, and even dared to try drugs not on the prescription. Pharmacists saw this as taking advantage of her freedom, but this method was indeed effective. After all, the same symptom can have different causes, and sometimes Vanessa's use of stronger medications was more effective.

The pharmacist was certain that the differences between the two would become more apparent as the teaching progressed.

After they had finally thoroughly studied the two books assigned to them and passed the basic pharmacist exam, the team finally arrived in Rosetta.

Unlike places like Longwind Territory, Rosetta Town was meticulously chosen in its location, nestled against mountains and facing a plain. Guards stood watch at the town's entrance, each soldier impeccably armored—a display of discipline even most lords couldn't replicate.

Grand Duke Toril has stationed a guard here specifically to assist in the defense of this strategic location. The mayor of Rosetta is also Grand Duke Toril's former chief steward, Mr. Beefries. This chief steward was able to assist Grand Duke Toril in managing the entire territory, so a small town would naturally be no challenge for him.

Unsurprisingly, the large group was stopped at the gate by the guards.

“Tell me your origins, Father.”

Father Thorne stepped forward with a smile and said to the guards, "We come from the war zone and hope to resupply here before crossing the wasteland to Violet City."

"Go to Violet City?" The guard frowned and looked at the group of people. "It's no use for you to go. With so many people, Violet City is even less likely to let you in."

“That’s a problem we’ll have to consider once we get there, sir. As you can see, we’re not the kind of refugees who need help from the city. We just need to do some shopping here. The supplies in Rosetta are more than enough to support our group.”

"I can't let all of you in."

“Of course, I didn’t mean that either, sir. We only need fifteen people to go in, since someone needs to drive the carts to pick up the supplies. The rest of us will stay outside. What do you think?” Father Thorne said.

“It is possible… but the presence of a large number of unidentified individuals outside the town remains a potential threat, Father,” the guard said.

“Then I will make them retreat three miles, sir, no more than that, or people will become suspicious of our situation.”

The guards finally agreed, and the priest immediately began selecting men. The apothecary, Veronica, Vanessa, and the Knight Gael were all on the list, and some rickshaw pullers were chosen from among the refugees.

"It will take us about two days. Everyone set up camp here. Sir Maurice will be in charge of distributing food. If anyone tries to escape, catch them and handcuff them by the roadside." Father Thorne gave instructions to the knights who stayed behind, and then led his men into the town.