"Since I have been at High Castle for many years and am not well acquainted with everyone, I would like you all to introduce yourselves now. Each of you, please share your origins, na, occupation, and family. You, start!"
The morning after the Holy Father’s descent, the rain had just stopped.
Standing in front of the Hunter’s Hut, Horn, with his hands on his hips and a longsword in his right hand, energetically shouted at the assembled villagers.
The villager pointed at shivered all over, forcefully pulling his timid wife and son forward.
"My na is Beville, 29 years old. I am a farr, a Public Register Farr. This is my wife, Rahil, and these are my two sons, Little Bever and Little Dazov."
Picking up a simple reed pen, Horn recorded the na on a piece of birch bark.
In the rural system of the Divine Ael Empire, Public Register Farrs represent semi-serfs.
They can own private property on the tax register and are not subjected to being bought, sold, or privately punished like serfs.
However, Public Register Farrs must rent the lord’s land and complete agricultural labor tasks.
Throwing a wooden plaque with two marks on it to him, Horn didn’t look up: "Go over there, stand behind the board with the sa pattern as on your plaque, and hurry up."
Leading his family, Beville stood in the designated spot. Curious, Little Dazov reached out to touch the plaque only to be slapped down by his mother.
"Alright, next." Horn finished recording and shouted again.
A robust man in a black cotton vest stepped forward. He removed the wool hat from his head, pressed down on his wife’s frail back, and bowed in greeting:
"rciful Master Saint Grandson Pope, my na is Rekado Steelwater, 35 years old, an Ard Farr. I have a blacksmith shop at ho. This is my wife, Solmi, and we have no children."
Glancing at Rekado a couple of tis, Horn continued to make a record on the birch bark.
Ard Farrs are the wealthy peasant class within the Empire’s feudal rural system. They are mostly small and dium landlords and wealthy farrs who are not required to pay any taxes but must prepare their own weapons for service.
However, since the end of the Hundred Years’ War, most Ard Farrs no longer go to battle but instead pay shield taxes, which the lords use to hire rcenaries.
Yet they are still the cronies of lords and belong to the middle-level managers in rural order.
Throwing him a wooden plaque with four marks, Horn raised his head: "Alright, next."
"Your Excellency Holy Grandson, I introduced myself yesterday. My na is Jeska, 31 years old, a vagabond. I have no family, used to be a rcenary, and now primarily work as a mason."
Horn rembered this shrewd one-eyed man, who seed to be the leader of the nearby vagabonds.
Vagabonds are a special group ford after the Empire enacted the "Fugitive Slave Act."
These people often gather in groups and operate outdoors to avoid capture by fugitive hunter.
They don’t stay long in one place and sustain themselves by working odd jobs, begging, or even theft and robbery, gradually becoming vagabonds.
Horn drew out a plaque with only one mark and threw it to him.
"Next!"
All morning, Horn was busy registering and allocating these villagers.
On this hillside, there were a total of 221 villagers in 39 households, comprising 6 households of Ard Farrs with 44 people, 22 households of Public Register Farrs with 137 people, and 11 households of vagabonds with 40 people.
On one side of the cabin, four wooden boards had been pre-erected, each with a different pattern. Behind each stood those holding plaques with matching patterns.
Behind each board were about 8 to 10 households. Those familiar whispered to each other, while those unfamiliar sat separately.
They looked around, glancing left and right, not quite understanding what was happening.
Threading the birch bark with leather string, Horn turned towards these villagers.
After clearing his throat, he stepped onto a large rock in front of the villagers, spreading his arms wide: "Faithful ones, lambs, I have sothing to say, please listen carefully.
As the Holy Father said, today we are overrun by demons and serpent devils. Having defeated Devil Barnett, are you feeling proud? But there are many demons, and Barnett was just one among countless others.
Think about it, even knights have beco demons. Doesn’t this prove that demons are among us?
Perhaps none of you are demons now, but what if soone gets tempted by demons later? What then?
I am shielded by my mother, but you are not. Therefore, to prevent this, I propose we implent the Holy Ten-Household System."
Holy Ten-Household System?
Stretching their necks, the villagers of Red Mill Village turned their heads to both sides, only to see confusion on each other’s faces.
"Master Saint Grandson Pope, what does this Holy Ten-Household System an? Is it like the urban mutual guarantee system?"
"More or less. The so-called Holy Ten-Household System groups eight to ten households as one unit based on your current positions, with a Ten Households Leader. Since demonic corruption is contagious, if one becos a demon, the entire unit is responsible, except for those who report the demon."
Like rustling mice, the villagers lowered their heads, creating waves across the back of their heads like floating leaves, whispering in hushed tones.
"I’m not a demon, so why should I be responsible?"
"I have a clear conscience anyway..."
"Keep your voice down. This is an order from Holy Grandson. Be careful, or the Saintess might strike you with lightning."
Seeing the villagers in discussion, Horn did not intervene. It’s better to express dissatisfaction than to keep it bottled up.
He was implenting the Holy Ten-Household System as a last resort, given the ignorance and blindness of these people, it was too easy to incite them—yesterday’s incident was proof.
Horn had no personal network to serve as informants, so he could only resort to this thod to gather enough information to understand the villagers’ actions.
"Of course, this is just a proposal." Horn clasped his hands behind his back, wearing a faint smile, "I won’t force you to participate. Those who disagree with this can leave your position right now..."
Upon hearing this, many families breathed a sigh of relief, straightening their clothes, donning relaxed smiles, and turning to leave.
"However—" Catching a glimpse of those leaving, Horn smiled, "As the saying goes, ’Every man is his own lord.’ Once you join the Ten Households, you are your own lord, and thus you automatically shed the identity of a Public Register Farr."
"You stand on this side?"
"Fine, I’ll stand here."
Those who had just stood up to leave imdiately turned around, switching places with others beside them and sitting back down.
"Whether Ard Farrs, Public Register Farrs, or even vagabonds, as long as you join the Ten Households, you’ll imdiately receive fifty acres of land remotely! If you already have land, it’s an additional allocation."
Grabbing a stack of land grant docunts printed with radish stamps saying "Mandated by the Saint, Beneficial to life and death."
Horn confidently held up five fingers to them, "Don’t worry about fulfillnt. The Church serves my mother as its lord, and a servant’s land naturally belongs to the master. Since my mother is a virgin goddess and I’m her only son, ultimately, the Church’s land will be mine to distribute as I wish!"
Anyway, once the floods have receded, I’ll abscond, where would you find to fulfill your claims?
As long as no trouble arises before I escape.
Besides, Horn needed to enhance their discipline and organization to obtain sufficient food from the forest.
If not, the constant daily disturbances demanding Horn’s personal intervention were unsustainable.
After listening to Horn, many villagers’ eyes lit up as if they had discovered a new world.
"Hey, that’s right, the Holy Father doesn’t have a wife, and the Saint Master is a virgin goddess, so this whole family is childless, no wonder they adopted Master Saint Grandson Pope as an heir."
"Then by this logic, since the world was created by the Holy Father, isn’t the world eventually going to belong to our Master Saint Grandson Pope?"
Seeing the villagers’ logic spiraling, Horn chose not to intervene or refute.
After yesterday’s experience, he better understood the villagers’ cognition and thoughts.
They were not intellectually deficient; instead, their cunning was evident when they deceived Jeanne into "borrowing" money.
Their apparent blindness and foolishness stemd from limited exposure, preventing them from actions beyond their comprehension.
Mushrooms don’t know the dawn-dusk cycle of the sun, cicadas don’t comprehend years beyond spring and autumn.
Horn could only converse within their frawork. Otherwise, communication would be impossible.
Maintaining a classic divine charlatan smile, Horn elegantly clapped his hands, pausing their discussions: "I’ve finished my piece. If you approve, don’t say anything; if you oppose, raise your hand."
Stopping at this juncture, Horn intentionally waited for three to five seconds. The villagers either looked down at the ground or exchanged glances.
"Since it’s so, it’s settled. Each of you choose your own Ten Households Leader, and co to for a eting after lunch. I’ll provide lunch grains."
User Comments
0 comments from readers