Free Web NovelChapter 31: Five Minutes
D’Arc County.
Silver Town, Northern Region.
"Fresh bread. Only five nickels for a loaf!"
"Five for one loaf?" An old woman scoffed. "Last week it would buy you two."
"Then go buy last week’s bread," the baker shot back and continued shouting the new prices.
"Fresh trout! Pulled from the river this morning!"
"Move aside! Wagon coming through!"
The town square bustled with life despite the biting northern wind.
Merchants shouted themselves hoarse while townsfolk haggled over every nickel and copper coin.
In a shadowed corner near the fountain, an old beggar sat cross-legged with a battered tin bowl before him.
Clink.
A nickel landed inside his bowl.
The beggar immediately snatched it up and looked up.
A figure was already disappearing into the crowd.
"Blessings upon—"
His words stopped.
The old man frowned and rubbed the coin between his fingers.
He glanced down.
His expression darkened.
"Fake!"
He sprang to his feet with surprising agility.
"You damned swindler!"
"Come back here!"
Waving the counterfeit nickel overhead, the beggar barreled into the crowd.
People cursed as the old man shoved his way through the packed square.
A merchant nearly dropped his basket.
A fishmonger stumbled backwards.
"Bastard! Watch where you’re going!"
"This fucking beggar!"
Several heads instinctively turned in the direction of chaos.
As the attention shifted, a man browsing vegetables straightened his back.
Another stepped away from a wagon.
A third released the reins of a mule.
Beneath weathered cloaks and common work clothes, hands slipped toward concealed weapons.
None noticed.
With precise, calculated steps these men formed an outer ring in the town square.
BANG—!
A gunshot split the square.
A startled child dropped his sandwich.
The crowd froze.
For a heartbeat, silence reigned.
Then screaming erupted.
"Shooter!"
"Run! Run!"
"Mommy!"
Steel flashed.
One of the disguised men drew a revolver and fired into the air.
BANG—!
"Nobody move!"
Another ripped a shotgun from beneath his coat.
A woman shrieked.
Parents shoved their crying children behind them.
Many ducked under nearby food carts.
Panic swept through the market and some tried to run, but the bandits were faster.
"Back to the square!"
"Move!"
Guns and machetes were pointed at the masses.
No one resisted.
No one dared.
Half a minute later.
GONG!
The town alarm rang.
The citizens peeked through their windows.
People in other parts of the streets froze.
Town guards reached out for their spears and swords.
GONG!
At the second bell, gunshots echoed from different directions.
Clerks abandoned their desks and drew rifles.
Gate guards turned their weapons on fellow guards.
Workers in the silver mines abandoned their tools and seized the elevators.
GONG!
At the third bell, the attack did not spread.
There wasn’t a need.
Silver Town had fallen.
...
"Five minutes!?" Vincent slammed the report onto the table. "It only took them five minutes to take over the entire town?"
Vincent looked at the Knight Order captain standing nearby. "Where was the Knight Order?"
He turned to the others for an answer.
Nobody answered.
Vincent clicked his tongue and stood up, staring at the knights.
"No, seriously. What the fuck was the knight order doing?"
The First Unit’s captain immediately placed a hand over his chest and bowed.
"Your Lordship, I do not possess that information."
He lowered his head.
"However, if permitted, I can contact the Northern Commander and obtain an explanation."
Vincent rubbed his temples and waved his hand. "Go."
The captain bowed curtly and left.
Vincent sat back on his chair and looked at the stack of reports.
He sighed, then shook his head.
’Need to lock the fuck in or these papers are never gonna end.’
He took a report and was about to read when he heard Anastasia’s soft voice.
"Tea, young master?"
Vincent turned.
Somehow, regardless of whether the county was collapsing, bandits were invading, or fate itself was trying to kill him, Anastasia always had tea.
A cup of crimson tea rested on the tray she held.
Thin slices of ginger floated near the surface while steam rose steadily from the cup.
Beside it were several sandwiches and butter biscuits.
"You haven’t eaten in a while, young master."
Vincent looked at the tray and surrendered immediately.
"...You’re right."
Anastasia placed the tea and snacks before him and stood behind, ready to serve again if needed.
Vincent grabbed the cup of tea and said without looking at her, "Sit down. You haven’t eaten either."
He was long past the formality with her.
Vincent blew at the steaming cup and glanced at Anastasia taking a seat.
His eyes turned back to the report lying on his table as he took a sip.
The sharp taste of ginger immediately spread through his mouth.
"Oooh..."
Vincent clinked the cup back on the saucer.
The ginger carried enough heat to wake a corpse.
Vincent was about to complain but the sweetness followed behind and left a pleasant aftertaste.
Warmth travelled down his throat and settled in his stomach.
Some of the exhaustion weighing on his mind seemed to lift.
"...Good."
Vincent took another sip.
Anastasia’s eyes were on Vincent as she took a bite of her sandwich. Her eyebrows lifted in amusement as she saw his reaction.
Vincent put the cup down, grabbed a sandwich, and continued to read the reports.
An hour later.
The First Unit’s captain returned and handed Vincent a small stack of papers.
Vincent’s face scrunched at the sight of it but he dropped everything and began reading through the stack.
The Northern Commander’s response was quite detailed.
Firstly, an official letter from the Central Commander was attached and brought up by him.
When the Southern Region was flooded, everyone rushed to the Central Region for food and shelter.
These people were given refugee status and had almost doubled the region’s population.
Camps exceeded capacity.
Dysentery cases doubled.
Several districts reported contamination of drinking water.
Riots were expected if quarantine failed.
Additional personnel were requested to maintain order.
’Okay.’
’That’s serious.’
’But then, it hasn’t even been three full days since the floods. Does dysentery spread this fast and lead to contamination?’
Vincent didn’t know.
He took a blank sheet and wrote his thoughts down.
He tapped his pen on it and looked at Anastasia.
"This sheet is important. Make sure I don’t lose it."
Anastasia nodded and went back to compiling the reports in a proper order for Vincent to read.
Vincent continued reading.
Emergency was declared in the Central Region.
After getting approval from the Grand Commander, the Northern Commander dispatched the knights.
The approval letter of the Grand Commander was also present in the stack.
Vincent was surprised with how detailed everything was.
’Still... why did they pull troops from the North? What happened to the ones in the South? Could they have not migrated with the refugees?’
Vincent did not get an answer regarding the Southern Region’s knights but he did find why the north could afford to send the knights.
North of D’Arc County was Heinrich Duchy connected by a single rail line.
The rail line had been severed.
Intelligence indicated bandit activity was limited to isolated raids.
The central refugee crisis was a bigger threat.
Border outposts and villages retained the knights but from Silver Town and elsewhere, they were reduced.
’Reduced by... two-thirds!?’
Vincent had a frustrated and confused expression while he wrote this information down in his paper.
’Not to mention this, who told these idiots that the north was safe? Which intelligence said they are only doing isolated raids?’
Vincent first wrote down his thoughts and then flipped through the stack.
He did not find an answer.
"Haaaah..."
Vincent threw the stack on the table and leaned back on his chair, rubbing his face.
Anastasia carefully picked Vincent’s written report and arranged the Northern Commander’s stack again into her pile of priorities.
At this moment, a clerk brought a telegram and handed it to the knight, who then handed it to Anastasia.
Anastasia skimmed through it to understand the priority, only to have a flicker run through her eyes.
She placed the sheet in front of Vincent and said, "You might wanna have a look at this, young master."
Vincent opened his eyes and sighed heavily.
He straightened his posture and picked the report.
...
Southern Gate Refugee Camps, Central Region.
At the heart of D’Arc County, factories roared, telegraph lines clicked while freight trains arrived and departed.
The machinery of the county never stopped moving.
Though, beyond these industrial districts and crowded avenues, thousands of refugees lived beneath canvas and scrap cloth.
Rows of tents stretched along the outer roads.
Smoke drifted from makeshift cooking fires.
The smell of mud, sweat, and sickness lingered in the air.
A food distribution line wound through the camp.
Men, women, children, elderly... all patiently waited with growling stomachs. ƒreewebɳovel.com
A boy stood beside his mother at the back of the queue.
He looked no older than twelve.
His eyes remained fixed on the basket of bread being handed out one loaf at a time.
Step by step, the line moved forward.
Five more and it would be his turn.
Four.
Three.
The final loaf disappeared.
"That’s all for today!"
Groans spread through the queue.
Some cursed.
Some lowered their heads and left.
The boy stared at the empty basket.
Eyes hollow. Stomach still growling.
His mother squeezed his shoulder.
"We’ll come tomorrow earlier." She said with a tender smile.
The boy nodded.
That night, while most of the camp slept, he quietly slipped away.
The food depot was guarded.
But not perfectly.
He found a gap.
A moment.
An unattended loaf resting on a supply crate.
The boy grabbed it.
For a brief second, his face lit up.
For a brief second, everything in life was just right.
But then.
Then a hand seized the back of his shirt.
"Thief!"
A Knight Order member dragged him into the open.
"Thief!" He shouted again, drawing attention of the surrounding refugees.
Some pitied the child.
Most simply shook their heads.
The boy lowered his head. "I was hungry..."
The knight did not respond.
Steel left its sheath.
Several people frowned.
One woman took a step forward.
But it was too late.
The blade fell.
A soul-shivering scream tore the camp.
The loaf hit the dirt.
A severed arm landed beside it.
Nothing but the screams filled the surroundings.
Blood spread across the grass.
The knight wiped his blade.
"Theft during an emergency is punishable by mutilation."
He sheathed his weapon.
"Order has been restored."
