TALES OF A WITCHER - Season 9 Episode 1

“Is this… really OK?” Through the commanding post’s window, Echo saw those Sand Nation civilians being whipped and tumbling on the ground. She could not help but feel sorry for them.

“They never knew what discipline was. They lived by the rule that ‘the Weak are Prey to the Strong’. If we’re to put these people into use sooner, other than sending them to war, this is the only way.” Iron Axe replied in respect. “You hadn’t been in the Southernmost Region for long and during that period, the chief was very concerned about you, so you might not be familiar with the small clans’ natures. Such a kind of discipline isn’t severe. One can even say it’s necessary, otherwise they would consider Osha a clan with no authority, weak and easy to bully.”

At this, he showed a rare hint of hesitation. “I think the reason that you’re not used to it is probably that… His Majesty is sometimes too benevolent.”

“Completely agreed.” Andrea, resting her upper body on the window sill, shrugged. “There is a saying among the nobles ‘carrots combined with sticks make the best way of ruling the subjects’. The bigger the carrots are, the more benevolent the Lord will be.”

“What are carrots?” Hummingbird asked in curiosity.

“They’re kind of food, similar to His Majesty’s corn, a sort of specialty of the Kingdom of Dawn,” Andrea explained. “But no matter how big the carrots are, they should always be much smaller than the sticks, which indicates that punishment should be more severe than awards so that the subjects would appreciate the favor. A Lord such as Roland would be considered a black sheep in the City of Glow.”

“Rare as it is, truthfully, I agree with you,” Ashes said while pouting.

“His Majesty is especially eloquent?” With her chin resting on her hands, Hummingbird thought for a while and said, “The words he taught Thuram to speak sound very reasonable… The collective power is definitely stronger than an individual’s power.”

“But Thuram merely repeated what Roland told him to say.” Iron Axe shook his head, smiling. “Without seeing Neverwinter personally, one can never imagine what an inconceivable new order His Majesty has established. I believe that one day in the future, Graycastle will become another Neverwinter, but that day is definitely not today… To make them remember the rules in the Soutern Territory, whips are more powerful than words.”

Echo slightly sighed without saying a word.

“Commander-in-chief.” A soldier suddenly walked into the commanding post and said, “There is a riot breaking out in the Fallingstone Clan and the Spring Clan. Some people are confronting the Defending Army.”

“For boarding the ship?” Iron Axe asked solemnly.

“Yes. Those who were squeezed into the water called for their families. They asked for the same amount of food and reward. They argued that it’s not that they didn’t want to go to the Blackwater Valley, but that the Osha had turned them down.”

“Alright. Who is guarding the camp?”

“The Second Battalion of Flintlock.”

“Call up two squads and those young Osha lads who wanted to join the First Army. Tell them to gather at the riot spot. I’ll be there right away.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Seeing that Iron Axe was about to leave, Echo could not help but call him and said, “Please don’t be too harsh on them.”

Iron Axe stood in the doorway quietly for a moment, bowed to her and then said, “I understand, Miss Silvermoon. I’ll do it in moderation.”

After Iron Axe left, Echo returned to the desk, feeling melancholy. The process of the Sand Nation’s relocation at the north did not go as smoothly as she expected. Although they could lead a well-off life as long as they follow His Majesty’s instructions, some people still took the message that Roland asked her to deliver as a lie. Even those who had gained a piece of fertile land did not completely trust her nor His Majesty.

Now she was sort of missing her life in Neverwinter.

Compared with leading the strongest clan, she preferred the time when she stood on the top of the castle, overlooked the mountains and the city, and sung the songs composed by His Majesty. When the melody that she had never heard of sounded, she could feel genuine freedom and happiness.

She had not sung for a long time since coming here… She wondered whether Roland had written any new songs.

“When can I sing out aloud again?”

…

“Oh!” Simbady felt as though everything in his stomach was overturned. Along with the rise and fall of the Concrete Boat, some gastric acid welled up from his stomach again. Regardless of the vomit along the side of the boat from other people, he directly bent over the handrail and began to throw up.

“Hi, are you okay?” Molly patted him on his back. His face was slightly pale. The Concrete Boat, steady as the ground while in the bay, became a swaying leaf when upon the sea. Bobbing in waves, it nearly hit the offshore beach several times. The horizontal waving never stopped. It was a total torture for the Sand Nation civilians that were experiencing the sea for the first time.

“Ahem… Almost fine.” After throwing up, he laid on the deck lifelessly. “Do you know how long we’ve been on the sea?”

“Today is the fifth day.”

“This isn’t right…” Simbady gasped and said in a low voice, “Do you remember what the Clearspring Clan said? They… live in the oasis by the sea. We passed the Iron Sand City at first dusk, which means the Concrete Boat travels really fast. Yet why haven’t we arrived at the Blackwater Valley?”

“You mean…” Molly asked.

“The destination of Osha isn’t the Blackwater Valley. Thuram lied. The place he’s taking us is further south than the Choke Swamp!”

“Further south?” Molly started to worry. “But there is nothing there. Could they be lost?”

“The boat has been travelling along the coastline, which means it is highly unlikely for them to get lost.” Simbady pressed at his forehead. “If we’re going somewhere closer to the south point than the Choke Swamp, it’ll only be…”

“Everybody, cheer up!” Before Simbady finished talking, Thuram suddenly appeared on the center of the deck and his words interrupted Simbady’s, “I’ve some good news. We’re arriving at our destination. Pack your luggage, line up, and prepare to disembark. Remember, be careful not to fall into the sea anymore, because no one will rescue you this time!”

Simbady propped up his upper body and peered beyond the shore. On shore it was still barren, no oasis to be seen. His speculation was confirmed by the rolling water vapor and gusted smoke columns on the sea in distance.

There was only one place that could give such an inconceivable view,

the Endless Cape. The exile place of the Mojins.

More and more Sand Nation people civilians noticed the anomaly and became quite on edge on the deck.

“This is not the Blackwater Valley! You lied to us!”

“Why did you bring us to the Endless Cape? Do you want to abandon us here?”

“I want to go back. Please, let us leave!”

“Shut up!” At this moment, Thuram felt there was no need to conceal anything anymore. “Have I said that we were going to the middle area of the Blackwater Valley? The valley tributaries run through the entire southern region, of course it includes the cape area. Any underground Styx’s River is extended from the valley, am I right?”

“This is sophistry!” Simbady thought angrily. If they had been told to work in the exile place, he was afraid that not many would apply for it.

“Nobody is going to be abandoned here. People from Osha and Graycastle will join you in developing this area!” Thuram raised his arm and spoke loudly, “Listen carefully. From now on, Endless Cape is no longer an exile area. It’ll be a newly born town! This is the order from the chief!”