The next morning, the sun rose over the City of Hill, its golden glow spilling across the Palace's freshly scrubbed white stone steps.
As the proclamations drafted by Willow were dispatched everywhere by fast horses, the renaming of the entire territory was swiftly implemented with an almost brutal efficiency.
The tattered flags that originally represented the Royal House of Orr were all torn down, replaced by Mason's cold and noble Black Rose battle flags.
Inside the Main Hall, Sophia had just finished a simple breakfast when Delilah walked in, bringing with her a chill and a thick parchment scroll.
"Your Majesty, the preliminary statistical results are out."
Delilah's expression was somewhat solemn, even carrying a trace of imperceptible anger.
"The situation here is much more brutal than we expected."
According to the results of the overnight investigation conducted by Delilah and her soldiers, the data was as follows.
Total population of the territory: adding the City of Hill, Fishery Water Town, and Roland Village together, only 2,840 survivors remained.
And this was even including the number of people infected by the epidemic.
A total of 512 severe and mild patients were found still struggling on the verge of fever and decay.
Sophia tapped her fingertips lightly against the table, her gaze focusing slightly.
"This Queen remembers Vasha mentioning previously that during Orr's peak, there were at least six to seven thousand subjects."
"Yes."
Delilah took a deep breath. Thinking of those wretched people, her tone revealed a vicious ruthlessness. "This minister asked the local elders.
"When the epidemic first broke out, not only did that old thief not distribute medicine, he actually sealed off the slums, leaving them to fend for themselves.
"Later, to prevent the epidemic from spreading, he even forcibly executed a large number of strong men suspected of being infected and threw them into the moat.
"Coupled with those shot to death on the City wall last night... the current Orr only has less than half of its population left."
Hearing this number, Sophia maintained her placid and cold appearance on the surface, but inwardly, she was already frantically calculating this population deficit.
How was this taking over a territory? This was taking over a massive morgue.
She originally thought she was taking over a resource-rich Northern border hub, but the demographic dividend had directly shrunk by half.
In this medieval era with extremely low productivity, people were the primary productive force. That old thief of Orr truly deserved to die for ruining all the future labor force.
She raised her head, her gaze falling upon Daphne at the side, who was fiddling with a Holy Light orb and looking somewhat eager.
"Daphne, those five hundred or so people are entrusted to you. This Queen does not need their gratitude."
"But This Queen needs them to stand up as soon as possible, to go mine for Irene and to go farm for Mason. The City of Hill and Roland Village have a lot of flat land. If it is all planted with grain, then Mason's future will no longer be in a state of food shortage."
Sophia's voice echoed within the hall.
"Remember, on Mason's land, death must be permitted by This Queen."
"Go, repair all those labor forces who aren't completely dead yet for This Queen."
Victor, who had been observing from the shadows, looked at Sophia's aloof manner of commanding the Saint to save people, and tears of excitement once again burst from his eyes.
Look! This is Your Majesty's almost god-like will to rule!
Facing a territory wantonly trampled by the former King and left with only half a breath, Your Majesty did not show the sorrow of a woman's benevolence, but rather used the most decisive orders to initiate a large-scale life reshaping.
Those people abandoned by the old King were not burdens in Your Majesty's eyes, but rather the bricks and stones for reforging civilization.
This overbearing mercy of pulling them back even if they had fallen into hell was the true spark that would allow the City of Hill to be reborn.
Where was Your Majesty calculating the population? She was mending these broken lands and rivers!
At this time, Vasha, who had changed into a sharp administrative outfit, walked in. She had heard Delilah's report. Her eyes were slightly red, but she forcibly maintained the majesty of a newly appointed City Lord.
"Your Majesty, this minister has already ordered people to set up a Holy Light altar in the central square of the City of Hill.
"All five hundred and twelve patients have been assembled."
Vasha's voice was firm.
"This minister will personally supervise to ensure that every piece of bread distributed enters the mouths of those sufferers."
Sophia nodded slightly.
Although the population had shrunk severely, the remaining three thousand people, after experiencing the extreme contrast between hell and salvation, would have their loyalty to Mason reach a terrifying peak.
At the central square of the City of Hill.
The air was filled with a nauseating smell of disease, a mix of decay and rust.
Over five hundred patients sat or lay down. In this open space where countless luxurious celebrations had once been held, they looked like piles of discarded, tattered sacks.
The cold wind swept past, bringing with it bursts of suppressed coughing and ghost-like whispers.
Sophia stood on the high balcony of the Palace, looking down at the gray and ruined hues below.
Beside her stood Daphne with a solemn expression, and Willow holding documents.
The commotion on the square was clearly audible even from this high up:
"Look at those soldiers wearing strange masks... They are holding gleaming long spears in their hands, are they going to stab us to death here and then burn us all?"
"Burning us is fine too, it's better than coughing up pieces of our lungs every day like this. As long as my youngest son hasn't been brought here, as long as he can survive..."
"That little girl sitting up there... Is she the rumored Tyrant Sophia? She looks so delicate, is her heart really that hard?"
"Stop talking, save some strength to wait for death. Even the King of Orr is dead, who would still care about us lowly commoners rotting in the mud?"
"I only ask that it be quick, don't torture me for too long..."
Despair was a contagious toxin, silently spreading among the crowd.
"Silence—!"
Willow took a step forward. With the enhancement of Daphne's amplification magic, her crisp voice was like a thunderclap, forcefully splitting open the mournful wails on the square.
The originally chaotic patients were intimidated. They raised their faces—either purple and bruised, or withered and yellow—and looked towards that unreachable balcony.
Sophia slowly walked to the railing.
The gold-trimmed black fox fur coat behind her flickered with a cold luster under the sun. Her pale golden pupils looked down upon the masses, and her tone remained that flat coldness:
"From today onward, the City of Hill will no longer follow the old laws; this is the territory of Mason.
"This Queen does not care who you pledged loyalty to before, but since you are now kneeling beneath the flag of the Black Rose, This Queen will not permit a single Mason subject to die an innocent and painful death."
Sophia's words were concise and domineering:
"Those who wish to live, shut your mouths and cooperate with This Queen's Saint.
"Here, death requires This Queen's permission. Do you understand?"
Just as the subjects were left dumbfounded by this Queen's speech, Daphne made her move.
She raised high that staff embedded with a giant Holy Crystal, her sapphire-like eyes flowing with an almost divine majesty.
"In the name of the Holy Light, purge the filth!"
With Daphne's delicate shout, a massive, semi-transparent stream of pale golden Holy Light poured down from above, instantly covering the entire square.
The light was not glaring; instead, it carried a touch like the warm sun on a winter afternoon.
The patients who were originally still groaning suddenly widened their eyes.
They felt the burning sensation that had been gnawing at their lungs rapidly recede within that golden light, and their originally freezing, stiff limbs surprisingly regained a trace of sensation.
"Is... is this a Divine Miracle?"
A dying old veteran extended his hand tremblingly, attempting to grasp that wisp of light.
"I actually don't feel that much pain anymore... it feels like being enveloped by a warm spring."
Sophia spoke up at the right moment, her voice spreading across the entire square:
"This is Mason's Saint; she has temporarily suppressed your pain for you. Shortly, This Queen will distribute medicine that will completely cure the epidemic.
"But before complete recovery, anyone who dares to leave the square without permission and attempt to pass the disease to other innocent people, Mason's black muskets will let them meet the God of Death early."
Right at this moment, dozens of Mason soldiers wearing thick masks and neat uniforms walked into the square, carrying massive, steaming wooden barrels.
That aroma was the rich scent of stewed beans paired with freshly baked Black Bread.
"Line up, one bowl of stewed beans and one piece of Black Bread per person!"
The soldiers shouted loudly.
The patients apprehensively took those bowls of thick bean soup.
The beans had been stewed until soft and mushy, and a few enticing pieces of salted meat residue floated on top.
This smell... is so fragrant.
Could this be the legendary last meal before death?
I heard this Queen is a Tyrant. Perhaps this bean soup is poisoned, and drinking it will end the pain.
Forget it, even if it really is poison, being able to die with a full stomach is worth it.
Before, at home, I couldn't even bear to drink a mouthful of porridge, saving it all for my wife and children who hadn't gotten sick yet...
Your Majesty, if this really is poison, I accept it.
At the very least, this bowl of beans you gave is much more humane than those stone-like bran breads given by the King of Orr.
A subject took a fierce bite of the Black Bread. The moment the aroma of wheat filled his mouth, large tears fell into the bean soup.
Sophia watched the labor forces below gorging themselves while crying; a few even started kowtowing in Sophia's direction after taking a few bites.
Just as the subjects of the City of Hill were immersed in the shock and hope brought by that bowl of hot bean soup, a burst of noisy shoving and piercing pleas for mercy came from the secret passage exit on the west side of the Royal City leading outside.
A few minutes later, a squad of black musketeers escorted thirty or so luxuriously dressed yet thoroughly bedraggled people into the Main Hall.
Among this group were gray-haired old nobles, dependents wearing exquisite silk dresses, and even a few terrified servants.
Behind them, the soldiers were strenuously carrying a large batch of supplies unloaded from the carriages.
Boxes of tightly sealed aged grain, rolls of expensive Raven woolen cloth, and a few heavy bags of silver coins exuding a metallic scent.
"Reporting to Your Majesty!"
The leading Mason soldier knelt on one knee, his voice carrying thick disdain.
"This bunch of old codgers were sneakily loading carriages at the west secret passage exit.
"They planned to sneak out of the City of Hill taking along these rations—enough to feed five hundred people for several months—and money, but were caught red-handed by our brothers!"
Sophia sat upon the black stone throne lined with soft cushions, resting her chin on one hand. Her pale golden pupils swept over them slightly, and the air inside the hall seemed to instantly drop several degrees.
"Your Majesty, spare our lives! Your Majesty, spare our lives!"
An old earl with a large belly was the first to give out, slumping onto the ground and squirming like a caterpillar, his face covered in snot and tears.
"These... these are all this humble minister's private property!
"This minister merely wanted to take my dependents to the Kingdom of Leighton to seek refuge with relatives, I absolutely had no intention of betraying you!
"Yes, Your Majesty, we were just frightened out of our wits by that old thief of Orr. I beg you to look upon the fact that we are unarmed and let us go!
"We can leave the money! Leave it all! We only beg to keep our lowly lives!"
The noisy pleas for mercy echoed in the spacious hall, appearing both absurd and ironic.
Just a few hundred meters away in the square, their subjects were currently weeping bitterly for the hope of coming back from the dead, yet the only thought of these 'lords', who had enjoyed the people's fat and sweat for half their lives, was to abscond with the funds.
Sophia watched this scene coldly, her heart devoid of any fluctuation; she even felt a little like laughing.
"Private property? During a time when famine and epidemic ran rampant, hoarding this grain that should have been used to save lives—you call this private property? This is called murder."
Just as the nobles huddled into a ball, and Delilah was already impatiently gripping the hilt of her sword preparing to clear the hall, a crisp yet slightly trembling voice suddenly rang out:
"Please... please wait a moment! I am willing to serve Your Majesty!"
From the crowd, a young girl of about fourteen or fifteen pushed aside her mother who was trying to hold her back, and stubbornly walked to the very front.
The lace dress on her body was already snagged and torn, but her back remained perfectly straight, her eyes revealing a do-or-die determination.
Sophia raised an eyebrow with interest, her tone still cold:
"Serve? This Queen never keeps useless people by her side.
"Tell me, what can you do?"
The young girl took a deep breath and knelt heavily on the ground, her voice tight from nervousness:
"I... my name is Lilith.
"I once secretly studied some simple medical skills without my father knowing, and I know how to treat rotting wounds.
"I am also proficient in the etiquette of various countries and familiar with the noble lineages of those nations.
"As long as you spare our lives, whether it's serving as a hand-washing maid under Your Majesty's command, or managing those trivial accounts, I can do it all!"
She looked up at Sophia, her eyes exceptionally sincere:
"Your Majesty, Orr is already gone, and we are already homeless.
"Rather than dying like wild dogs on the path of escape, I would much rather act as a subject of Mason and prove my worth on this land!"
For a moment, those old nobles who were originally only focused on kowtowing and begging for mercy were all stunned. They looked at each other, their faces burning with pain.
Sophia let out an undisguised scoff. Her gaze circled those decaying bodies and finally stopped on Lilith:
"How ironic."
Sophia stood up, her black fox fur coat tracing a cold arc.
"These old things who boast of their deep foresight and cunning, in the face of life and death, surprisingly cannot see the situation as clearly as a little girl."
She did not bestow grace on the spot, but instead looked at Delilah, her tone as casual as if she were disposing of a pile of sundries:
"Lock all these people in the dungeon.
"Leave them hanging first; keep them locked up until they can figure out if there are still any secrets worth exchanging in their brains."
Sophia walked up to Lilith and stopped, looking down at her from above:
"As for you, little girl, if your medical skills are truly as outstanding as your courage, This Queen will consider giving you a temporary residency permit for Mason."
"Take them away!"
With the soldiers' cold shouts, the thirty-something nobles were roughly dragged down.
Before being taken away, Lilith took one last look at Sophia on the throne. Although she was still terrified, a wisp of light called 'survival' finally lit up in her eyes.
Several days later, the Order of the City of Hill was initially stabilized under the interweaving of the iron fist and Holy Light.
The skill assessment of that batch of imprisoned nobles also drew to a close under Lilith's lead.
Facts proved that just as Sophia expected, the desire to survive was humanity's best teacher.
Inside the temporarily erected medical station in the City of Hill, Lilith had rolled up her sleeves—where the lace had been torn off—and was with a focused expression cleaning the rotting flesh from a subject's wound.
Although her movements would still occasionally tremble from nervousness, the hope shining in her eyes was incredibly sincere.
When Sophia arrived here during her patrol with Willow, Lilith immediately put down the medicine bottle in her hand and knelt to report with an extremely standard posture.
"Your Majesty, experiments have proven that Lilith indeed has a foundation in medical theory, and her learning speed is extremely fast," Willow reported in a low voice from the side. "More importantly, she made a request to this minister."
Sophia looked down at the young girl before her, her tone flat:
"Tell me, what is your price."
Lilith lowered her head, her voice so firm she didn't seem like a young lady raised in a greenhouse:
"Your Majesty, this minister does not ask you to pardon my father and grandfather's family.
"They venerate the strong within the family and have never viewed my mother and me as relatives, even trying to throw my mother off the carriage while escaping to lighten the load.
"This minister only asks... that you grant my mother a special pardon."
Sophia raised an eyebrow.
This sort of clear-headedness to 'each go their own way when disaster strikes' was actually very much to her taste.
Upon investigation, Lilith's mother indeed had a passable reputation within the noble circles; she had a gentle and diligent personality and had committed no evil deeds.
Not long after, Lilith's mother was released from the dungeon.
She didn't have the affectations of a noble lady. Upon learning that her daughter had fought for her survival, she rolled up her sleeves without another word and threw herself into Mason's chef brigade.
Although she could currently only do kitchen hand tasks like chopping wood and washing vegetables, that sense of grounding from escaping death made her work harder than anyone else.
This actually surprised Sophia.
Even though these noble ladies might not receive their husbands' affection, their lives would definitely be much better than ordinary subjects.
Yet she surprisingly adapted so quickly—so quickly that she didn't seem like someone who had enjoyed a life of luxury.
As for the remaining old nobles, after witnessing the scene of the First Prince being dealt with and the King turning to ashes, this group of so-called upper-class individuals had long been frightened out of their wits.
They one after another proclaimed that they were skilled in the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting, but before the soldiers Sophia dispatched, these flashy skills were worthless.
"Your Majesty, these few are indeed good-for-nothings," Delilah reported, walking back to the Main Hall, her expression disdainful. "Aside from wasting grain, they can't even calculate basic accounts."
"Since they don't want to die, they must demonstrate their value." Sophia sat on the throne, letting out a cold laugh. "Since their brains aren't very useful, they will have to make up for it with physical labor. The City of Hill has just been scrubbed clean, and the mass graves and ruins outside the city still need a lot of manpower to clean up."
Sophia ordered that all these former earls and viscounts be put in specially made refined iron shackles.
These shackles were not only heavy, but also bore Mason's Black Rose emblem.
They were conscripted into labor camps and, under the surveillance of the black muskets, began to clear the mountains of rubble and repair the damaged drainage ditches.
At the entrance of the main hall, a line of stumbling old nobles wearing shackles was passing by, carrying heavy stone materials.
Sophia looked at the clinking iron chains, her gaze suddenly stopping on their faces twisted by fear and sweat.
The iron chains are too heavy; not only do they drain their physical strength, they also waste our expensive steel resources, Sophia mused inwardly. Furthermore, this kind of physical binding, once they enter deep mountains or crowds, is not conducive to long-term monitoring.
She turned her head, looking at Daphne, who was resting her chin in her hands in a daze.
"Daphne, come here."
Daphne bounded to the side of the throne like a light butterfly, her sapphire-like eyes sparkling:
"Does Your Majesty have any fun tasks?"
Sophia pointed at the laborers outside, asking thoughtfully:
"Can you use Alchemy or magic to develop a special marking Potion?
"After this Potion is applied to the skin, it will leave a specific pattern, and for a certain period of time... such as a month.
"No matter how it is scrubbed, it will not fade. It will only disappear when it expires or when a specific solvent is used."
Victor, hearing this proposal in the corner, thought Your Majesty's idea was truly excellent.
Your Majesty's purpose was not to torture these people, but rather to make them create more value while being unable to escape.
A Divine Miracle-like ruling mindset! Your Majesty is not just punishing; she is establishing a brand-new civilizational brand!
Your Majesty discarded the heavy iron chains, turning instead to pursue a dual imprisonment of spirit and vision.
This marking Potion would be an invisible shackle for those awaiting punishment.
It leaves sinners with nowhere to hide under the sun, and keeps those who submit constantly vigilant.
Your Majesty is warning the world that on the territory of the Black Rose, both loyalty and betrayal will be carved into the skin, becoming a permanent medal or an eternal disgrace! This is true high-level ruling that transcends the era and sees through human nature!
Hearing this, Daphne's eyes, which had been focused on making Potions, suddenly lit up as well.
"Although I have never made that kind of thing, for some reason, the moment I heard Your Majesty say it, I immediately had related ideas."
After Daphne finished speaking, she took a clean towel from the side to wipe her hands, and then, in front of the several people nearby, very shyly held Sophia's hand for a moment.
Afterwards, Daphne's complexion visibly became pink and tender, as if she had just eaten delicious food and had a good night's sleep, her qi and blood fully replenished.
Then, under Sophia's speechless expression, Daphne surprisingly began to conjure the Potion out of thin air using magic.
"First, it must be able to leave a sufficiently obvious mark on a person's skin.
"Second, it cannot be easily washed off. It must fade after a fixed time, or only be able to be washed off with a specific cleanser or magic...
"Colorfast, clear, and with obvious traces of magic..."
Daphne tightly closed her eyes. Her fair hands continuously rubbed together in mid-air, and the pale golden magic light surrounding her body grew increasingly bright.
After an unknown amount of time, the young girl abruptly opened her eyes.
Her jade-green almond eyes were filled with joy. She looked at Sophia happily, resisting the urge to rush over and hug her.
"Your Majesty, it's done!"
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