Chapter 297: The Checkpoint
The Department of Military Affairs headquarters was the first pioneering building among the three newly constructed buildings surrounding the City Hall to complete construction.
The headquarters launching ceremony was organized simply right in front of the South gate area. There was completely no noisy band with trumpets and drums, the scene only having exactly three hundred recruits standing queued into perfectly straight vertical lines, and a crowd of curious city citizens gathered tightly crowding both sides of the road to watch.
That team of three hundred recruits gathered all kinds of complex components. There were people who were long-time locals living in the city, there were people belonging to the Maritime Fleet, there were even several Dwarf clan young men with short, stocky, solid figures, there were even two Beastman brothers belonging to the Bear clan having standing figures towering rising higher than the surrounding people by a whole head.
Every single person was draped in a brand-new uniform tailored from dark gray fabric, the position on the left chest pinned with a tiny bronze-casted badge engraved with Lyra’s symbol.
The person currently holding the position of Director of the Department of Military Affairs was exactly Godfrey.
According to the usual custom of ceremonies, on the military launching day the authoritative Director had to stand up on the podium speaking a few words of instruction encouraging the soldiers. Godfrey stepped up standing facing before the three hundred recruits, casting his sharp gaze sweeping looking across once.
Three hundred people held their breath tensely waiting for the speech, the city citizens standing watching on both sides of the road were also dead silent as paper.
Godfrey cleared his throat, opened his mouth, then he spat out exactly one sentence:
"Starting from today onward, use everyone’s lives following me."
Ending his sentence, he decisively turned his heels walking straight away.
The three hundred recruits blankly looked at each other for a moment unable to react in time, then hurriedly lowered their heads running thunderously following behind their chief’s back. The city citizens standing watching buzzed discussing aloud.
Some people nodded praising this Director was truly a deep-hidden unexposed master, being men of few words like that was exactly the standard peak demeanor of a Sword Saint. Only several people belonging to the core group of the Maritime Fleet, those who used to brave life and death going to sea with Godfrey secretly lowered their faces holding back laughter.
Because they knew all too well a secret, that this guy had sat wrestling memorizing the sappy speech for three whole nights in a row, by the time he stepped up standing before the crowd his brain cramped forgetting completely cleanly all the words.
The first deployment mission of the Department of Military Affairs was having to establish erecting a checkpoint located blocking right at the position of the trading road cutting across the strip of land the Lyra City Hall just outright bought from the Voss family.
That bustling trading road stretched from Crossford town in the South heading straight up to the bustling towns in the North, originally being the traffic throat that the merchant caravans and guilds in the region always mandatorily had to pass through. The road segment cutting across the land belonging to Lyra’s sovereignty actually only lasted a bit over one hundred meters, located right next door to the position of the water canal running straight into Millbrook village. Standing from the ten-coin store looking out one could see it completely clearly.
The erected checkpoint was very primitive and simple. It was only a small watchtower built with raw bricks, the brick type the City Hall bought back from the group seventeen citizens at the East town wasteland. That day old man Wick sold off four hundred bricks personally poured by his own hands, holding the pile of wages returning home he gleefully counted back and forth forever without getting bored. Finishing counting satisfactorily he carefully hid it away right in the inner chest pocket, the place currently holding the piece of paper writing his wife’s name.
The thing used to block across the road was a barrier pole made of a pine tree trunk from the forest whittled perfectly straight, painted with alternating red and white segments looking very eye-catching. The head part of the barrier pole was rested on a large wooden pillar planted deeply into the ground, in the middle of the pillar head an iron pin was nailed through to make a nodding pivot axis.
At the short end of the barrier pole dangled a rattan woven basket, inside the basket stacked full of large rocks. Thanks to the lever principle of that rock basket, the heavy barrier pole more than five meters long only needed one soldier standing pressing their hand down lightly to be able to raise it up lower it down smoothly.
Chief craftsman Borin only took exactly one morning to sketch and finish designing this barrier pole system. When the worker group just finished installing it, the recruit boys competed taking turns going out standing raising it up lowering it down playing forever without getting bored, exactly identical to a bunch of children having just grabbed a novel toy.
Beside the watchtower stood toweringly a large wooden board. The top line of the board wrote a bright red sentence: Land Belonging to the Sovereignty of Lyra City.
Right below that text line was copied exactly word for word article twenty-seven of the Lyra Covenant law code, inside it clearly declared that this Covenant would have a binding nature on all living beings residing or passing through the territory of Lyra city, the law does not exclude anyone.
At the bottom-most part was quoted the exact legal clause completely abolishing the slavery system, accompanied by a copy of the administrative decision of the City Hall regarding merging this stream-side strip of land into the administrative boundary of Lyra city. At the bottom corner there was fully Mayor Elric’s fresh signature and the City Hall’s bright red stamp seal.
The specific regulations of the checkpoint were also clearly explicitly written right below the wooden board.
Any merchant caravan wanting to circulate passing through here must mandatorily open the cargo box lid for soldiers to inspect. Any caravan not wanting to be inspected then please feel free turning the horses’ heads taking a detour back the old road, the road that had to exhaustingly detour around the foot of the rocky hill in the West, further and costing up to half a day more of traveling.
During the first few days of operation, the merchant caravans when passing through here everyone scowled showing visible annoyance. Some caravans stubbornly refused opening the cargo boxes, silently resentfully turning their heads driving the wagons taking the detour. Some caravans grumbled cursing demanding they must meet a person holding a position of power at all costs to resolve it, but whenever meeting Godfrey’s deadpan face then obediently automatically threw the cargo boxes wide open to be inspected, no one around understood the magical reason why.
However, arriving at the third day of operation, all situations began to reverse direction.
The story was that day there was a merchant caravan carrying animal skins passing by, the wooden wheel axle of the very first wagon unfortunately snapped folding in half right in front of the barrier pole’s nose. The merchant caravan’s people were panicking not knowing what they must do to resolve it when a Dwarf clan blacksmith from inside the one-price store walked out catching the breeze.
He peered at the broken axle once then automatically rolled up his sleeves stepping in proceeding to repair it right away. Not even an hour later, the new wagon axle had been installed replacing it, the wagon could smoothly run again. The gentle blacksmith only asked to take exactly the original material cost, he even conveniently generously took beef tallow out lubricating smoothly all the remaining clanking wheels of the caravan.
The head of the animal skin merchant caravan was so touched to the point when the caravan passed by he even continuously bowed thanking profusely several times. Wherever he went to a turn he would endlessly recount this good story up to there, saying that the checkpoint of Lyra city inspected goods very quickly and neatly, the staff worked decisively, absolutely no one made things difficult demanding tea and water bribe money, and were even kind-hearted helping repairing the wagon without taking labor cost.
The rumor spread far, arriving at the fifth day, the winding detour road at the foot of the West hill was completely deserted without a single wagon shadow. While right in front of Lyra’s red and white barrier pole, the merchant caravans obediently queued trailing each other waiting to be inspected.
Arriving at the sixth day, a giant caravan of the Merchant Guild imposingly arrived.
This caravan had a scale comprising eight wagons, every single one was covered tightly with tarpaulins completely sealed. On the roof of the very first wagon proudly flew a flag embroidered with the image of a sword crossing a laurel branch. Two robust men rode on horseback escorting both sides of the caravan, on the collar of each guy was pinned a badge certifying as a registered swordsman of the Merchant Guild. Just looking at the demeanor of the two guys sitting firmly on horseback, an observant person could easily recognize those were people having sword skills in their hands.
The caravan head of this shipment was a middle-aged man named Morley, having a long face and extremely thin lips. He reined stopping the horse before the red and white barrier pole, cast his eyes reading the wooden board from top to bottom, then jerked his chin turning speaking to the recruit boy standing guard, his tone seemingly polite but exuded a haughty coldness:
"The goods of the Merchant Guild since ancient times wherever they pass through have no law forcing them to open up for anyone to inspect. Please trouble you to lift your hand raising this barrier pole up."
The recruit boy standing guard was undaunted, hurriedly turning his heels running inside the watchtower calling superior Godfrey.
Godfrey strolled stepping out from inside the watchtower, standing toweringly blocking right in front of the barrier pole. He glared into Morley’s face for a moment before dropping each word: "If you people do not want to open the boxes to be inspected then please turn your heads taking the detour."
Morley hearing that his face darkened. The two registered swordsmen simultaneously spurred their horses inching forward half a step, their calloused hands had rested lightly on the sword hilts at their waists.
But Morley only raised one hand signaling those two to back off, then he gritted his teeth ordering the entire caravan to turn their heads.
"Alright. Since it is so, we will take the detour."
The eight heavy cargo wagons started clattering turning their heads on the narrow gravel road. Right at the moment the very last wagon turned its body sideways, kid Steven standing guard beside the watchtower corner suddenly tilted his head lightly, the two lion ears full of fuzz hidden under the cloth hat twitched continuously.
The boy heard the sound of iron chains clashing into each other.
That clanking noise emitted very softly, being covered up mixed in the sound of wooden wheels grinding crunchingly on gravel and the sound of the horse herd snorting. If it was not a person possessing the superior hearing of the Lion clan then definitely completely no ordinary human could possibly hear it.
However, right after that clanking iron chain sound was a coughing choking sound. A very soft cough, hoarse, sounding exactly like the coughing sound of a sick child.
Steven immediately dashed running arriving standing beside Godfrey, standing on tiptoe leaning close to his ear whispering a few sentences reporting the situation.
Godfrey’s complexion remained freezing without changing at all. He only slowly stepped forward to the front a few steps, leaning his body standing blocking right in front of the head of Morley’s warhorse.
"Everyone hold on. This place you are standing on is the legal land of Lyra city. Please immediately untie the tarpaulin opening the final wagon for me to inspect."
Morley’s face blackened angrily: "We already accepted agreeing to take the detour!"
"You all agreed to take the detour when your two feet had already stepped onto Lyra’s land. Our Covenant has a regulation binding all living beings when passing through this land."
This time, the two registered swordsmen of the Merchant Guild did not even bother waiting for Morley to give the order anymore. The sound of swords unsheathing from their scabbards echoed crisply tearing the space. The recruit boys standing guard nearby also panicked hurriedly drawing their weapons out to defend, but everyone’s hands were trembling shaking because of the pressure.
Godfrey alone still stood motionlessly completely not drawing his sword.
He only stood still like a statue there, his large right hand casually resting lightly on the hilt part of the sword being worn at his waist. However, the moment his hand just touched the sword hilt, the two shiny swords pointing straight at him suddenly trembled violently, as if a weight of an invisible mountain had just crashed down onto both blade surfaces. The two warhorses suffering the pressure neighed frantically once, rearing their two front legs high, almost entirely tossing their owners falling down to the ground.
One of the two registered swordsmen widened his eyes glaring at Godfrey, his voice cracking because of terror: "You... you are exactly a Sword Saint?"
Godfrey still maintained a stone statue face, completely not bothering opening his mouth answering.
Not needing to wait for anyone to remind another sentence, the two swords were immediately obediently sheathed back into their scabbards.
The thick tarpaulin covering tightly the final wagon was stripped completely off by the soldiers. Below that tarpaulin layer were dozens of fabric cargo bales stacked piled up onto each other covering the eyes. The recruit boys hurriedly exhaustingly unloaded all the fabric cargo pile down, used their spear butts tapping testing onto the wagon floorboards then heard a hollow echoing sound returning. The floor lining board was immediately pried entirely open. Hidden underneath was a pitch-black secret compartment, the height calculated was not even half a human body.
Stuffed tightly squeezed inside that narrow compartment were thirty people belonging to the non-human group, all were being tightly locked their feet together by iron chains.
Inside there were a few cowering Beastman children, there was an Elven little girl skinny down to the bones pitifully, there were several emaciated people belonging to the Goblin clan, there was even an old man belonging to the Dwarf clan his beard and hair already entirely white. Completely no one opened their mouths raising their voices calling for help. When the harsh sun ray shone into the dark wagon compartment, they only knew to narrow their eyes because of the glare, cowering shrinking close into each other to seek a bit of warmth, looking up at the people above with fearful desperate eyes.
The recruit boy standing closest to the wagon box edge could not suppress his emotions, had to bitterly turn his face away to another place.
The checkpoint personnel immediately detained the entire group of people in the Merchant Guild’s caravan.
Inside the iron chest carefully locked hidden under Morley’s seat, they searched finding a stack of important documents. Inside there was the travel pass issued by the Merchant Guild, there was a detailed list of goods brought along, and clearly exposed there were thirty human selling contract papers. Every single paper was also clearly explicitly recorded from age name, race origin, to selling buying price.
Paul was the person responsible for rechecking that guilty document stack. The boy flipped to the third paper then his hand halted, his eyes widening staring intently at the bright red wax seal image stamped at the end of the page.
On that wax piece was the image of a majestic hawk perching on a watchtower, the carved lines sharp, clearly visible down to every single feather.
"Lord Director." Paul raised his small face up, his voice somewhat slightly trembling because of indignation: "The seal stamped on this is exactly identical cast exactly the same as the seal stamped on the land buying selling title transfer deed of the Voss family the other day."
Healer Milo was immediately sent checkpoint people riding horses going urgently calling arriving from the Crimson camp. He just jumped down from the horse’s back then rushed straight down into the secret wagon compartment, without saying a word starting to check vital signs for every single person.
Some people their bodies were severely dehydrated, some people their two ankles were ulcerated infected because of having to wear iron chains rubbing for a long time, the Beastman child coughing earlier his forehead was currently baking hot having a high fever.
Kaelen and Sane receiving the report arrived at the place when the sun had already begun casting shadows toward the West. Thirty pitiful people had been completely untied all their iron chains, sitting scattered on the clean grass beside the watchtower. Everyone was draped on their bodies a warm blanket of the Department of Military Affairs, their two hands tightly hugging a clean water bottle.
Kaelen walked straight to their place, silently squatted down right in front of the Dwarf clan old man. The old man slowly raised his face full of wrinkles up looking at him. His cloudy murky eyes rolled sweeping across Kaelen’s face once before raising that hoarse voice like sawing into people’s hearts asking:
"Young man... where is this place?"
"This is the land belonging to Lyra city." Kaelen answered calmly.
The old man froze being stunned for a really long time. Then he tremblingly mumbled asking again, that choked up voice so small to the point almost other people could not possibly hear it:
"Lyra... is it exactly the place where people often rumor there is no existence of slaves?"
Kaelen looked deeply into the old man’s eyes, gently nodding confirming.
The Dwarf old man hearing that then did not say anything more. The old man only slowly lowered his face to the ground, his two skinny shoulders trembling violently with every sobbing bout.
Kaelen just sat hugging his knees like that there for a very long time. By the time he slowly stood up, Sane standing behind saw deep in the depths of his eyes flashing some kind of killing intent that he had not seen for a very long time.
"Leave this matter for me to step forward resolving." Sane stepped forward, softly said.
Kaelen shook his head resolutely.
"No. We must bring them out for the Court to judge publicly."