Chapter 603 — Belk Loren
Blade of Dawn · Page 2 of 4
Though Belk was still thinking about the serfs, his loyalty made him respond at once to the prince's new instruction: "Your Highness, please give your order."
Edmund's expression turned grave. He picked up the water cup beside him, took a sip to moisten his throat, and only then spoke in a low voice: "Regarding the increasingly rampant cult activities, regarding those Ten Thousand Hells cultists..."
...
After stepping out through the main doors of the castle hall, Belk Loren's footsteps seemed even heavier than before.
He had thought that the moldering conservative nobles of the Eastern Region, the roving bandits, and the deluded common folk were already obstacles and difficulties of the greatest magnitude—yet he had never expected that here in the Sorenburg area there would be another enormous trouble.
The Order of All Things Perishing... such a dark cult that dared only stir up schemes and intrigues in the gutters—when had it grown into such a tremendous menace? They had even stretched their hands toward the Great Wall, toward the ruins of Gondor?!
According to what His Highness the prince had said, the corruption and spread of the Ember Shadow cultists within the kingdom had long exceeded people's expectations. They spread among the poor, among the townsfolk, and even among the extraordinary and the nobility. Their doomsday doctrine was clearly absurd and mad... yet why did so many people go to such lengths, one after another, to believe in it, to destroy themselves for it?
A cold yet invigorating north wind blew over, and Belk shuddered awake. Only then did he notice that the wind and snow outside had at some point ceased, and that at this moment only vast expanses of silver-white covered the courtyard, the paths, and the rooftops.
A squire knight came leading a horse, and bowed respectfully beside the young marquis: "My lord, would you like to..."
Belk waved his hand, dismissing the squire knight: "Take the horse back. I am going to walk about the city—on foot."
At this season, most places where people gathered had already lapsed into bleakness and desolation, and even "Sorenburg," a famous great city in the eastern part of the Holy Spirit Plain, was no exception. Outside the warm castle, the entire urban district where the common folk lived was cold and cheerless, with few pedestrians; even walking along the broadest streets, one could see very few passersby.
But in fact, being able to see common passersby on the streets at all was already a sign of liveliness and prosperity—at least some people were still willing to go out in this cold weather, at least the most basic commercial and social activities were still functioning among the common folk of the city, and that was something rarely seen in ordinary countryside.
Belk had not ridden a horse, nor had he donned armor; he simply wore a wolfskin cloak over his knight's everyday attire, strolling at leisure through the streets and alleys of Sorenburg's West District.
Ever since the Eastern Region Legion had occupied this city that had once belonged to the royal house, he had not had the chance to stroll the streets in such a casual manner. As heir to the Warden Duke of the Eastern Region, he always had countless matters to learn and busy himself with. Although today he had accepted the new task arranged by the prince, that task was not something that could be launched immediately—first he needed to arrange for subordinates to gather and compile intelligence on heretical sacrifices, missing persons, and the spread of abnormal diseases in the surrounding areas, and only afterward could he act in person. And before that, he finally had a little leisure time.
Unfortunately, this leisure time fell in winter, and he had no chance to see many interesting folk sights.
Walking aimlessly, looking at the cold, deserted streets, Belk finally sighed.
Indeed there was nothing to see; a winter stroll was the most boring thing of all.