Blackstone City

In Blackstone City, the road was full of bumps and hollows, and the air was heavy with a terrible stench, and poorly built, shabby houses lined the streets. Most of the Blackstone citizens hiding in their houses were sallow and emaciated. They were dressed in tattered rags covered with a black sheen that were probably neither washed nor changed out for a long time.

Alan looked at it all with furrowed brows. In his mind, such a scene could only be found in the slums.

Perhaps, that was exactly what Blackstone City was: A slum.

Alan now saw in a new light how unfairly his father treated him.

It was easy to find Blackstone Castle. After all, a huge castle in the center of the city stood extremely prominent amidst the land of dilapidated buildings made of soil and wood.

Blackstone Castle was constructed out of a kind of stone that was blackish in color. It was Gothic in style, with a spire that towered over the square-shaped castle. Compared with the cluttered and shabby buildings they saw earlier, Blackstone Castle looked especially majestic in comparison.

The gates of the castle were already opened, where a middle-aged man with gray hair in a long robe stood, waiting respectfully.

At the sight of Alan, the middle-aged man stepped forward and greeted him with reverence. "Praise be to the goddess. Your Highness, you have finally come. My name is Daun and I work in the Blackstone Castle as Lord Gert's secretary."

"Where is Gert?" Alan asked, frowning.

"Your Highness, Lord Gert left seven days ago. He instructed me to stay here and wait for you, and he put me in charge of assisting you," Daun answered with a bitter smile.

Gert didn't take him along when he left, which obviously implied that the man had been abandoned.

Although he lived at the borders far away from the imperial capital, Daun had heard about the third prince who was about to take over the reins of Blackstone City. The bards had spread throughout the empire the third prince's image as an arrogant, ill-natured good-for-nothing who only knew how to eat, drink and be merry.

Bitterness filled Daun's heart when he thought about the fact that he would have to work for such a new master. What's more, this was not the capital city, but Blackstone City that was less than 200 miles from the borders, where orcs might cross the empire's defense line and invade anytime.

Besides, it would be shocking if a profligate could run the city well!

"He left?" Alan was taken back by the reply. He had not expected Gert to run away without even seeing him!

"Take me in and show me around."

Alan and his men entered the castle. His eyebrows furrowed into a tight knot after Daun reported everything to him.

No wonder Gert ran away before his arrival. It turned out that he had snitched all the valuable things in the castle away, including gold coins, grains, and ore. In other words, Gert left Alan with an empty castle.

Alan tried hard to suppress the anger burning in him. "What's the current population of Blackstone City?" He asked.

"There are 307 civilians with ranks," Daun replied in a low voice.

"Only 307?" Alan glared at him. He saw at least two or three thousand people along the way from the city gates. Why were there only 307 civilians?

"Your Highness, they have to pay taxes if they wish to become civilians – One silver coin per year for each person."

"Can't they even afford to pay one silver coin every year?"

"Your Highness, that is mainly because apart from that, they have other taxes to pay, such as labor tax, food tax, residence tax..." Daun listed more than ten kinds of taxes in a single breath, which shocked Alan to the core.

Suddenly, he understood why such a small, impoverished city like this could afford to build such a tall and magnificent Blackstone castle.

"Show me the trades, expenditures, taxes and all such records of the city over the past one year. Also, I need the statistics of the shops, residents, mineral resources, and workshops in the city. Make sure they are detailed." Alan felt his head starting to pound.

He knew clearly that his priority was to figure out the resources of his territory in detail.

"Well..." Daun hesitated to speak.

"What?" Alan looked at him.

"Your Highness, please give me some time. It's not difficult to get the business tax information, but regarding statistics like the number of residents, I need to recount them," Daun answered, a bitter smile on his face.

"By the way, Your Highness, there is something I have to tell you first. Blackstone City's biggest exports are fur, wood, and ore, but we hardly produce food. We have always been relying on caravans to import food into the city. Lord Gert bought grains from the caravans and in turn sold them to the residents in the city. A few days ago, Lord Gert took all the grain reserves away with him. The remaining food we have is only sufficient to last for three days. If people in the city were to know that there's no food left, I'm afraid..." Daun explained to Alan cautiously as he wiped away his cold sweat.

Alan had to hold back his urge to jump up and curse upon hearing Daun's words. A terrible term emerged in his mind – Famine!

No matter what era, famine was the most devastating phenomenon. He could hardly imagine what those people outside the castle would do if they knew they lacked food.

He would not be surprised if they lost their minds and attacked the castle under the influence of overwhelming anger and hunger.

Don't forget – Gert even took with him all his guards when he left. Now, it was no longer an exaggeration to say that the entire Blackstone City was truly in disorder and defenseless. The only people Alan could rely on were Gossen and the remaining 38 guards.

Alan did not think that 38 guards would be able to resist thousands of hungry citizens.

What worried him more was that if news spread, residents would leave the city. It was a remote city close to the borders to begin with. If these people were to leave, Blackstone City would truly become a dead, deserted city for good.

What was the point of governing a deserted city?

"Gert, that bastard!" How Alan wished he could capture Gert back and knock the living daylights out of him.

"Gert is a collateral relative of the Nachmann Family." Derya, who was standing behind him, whispered into Alan's ear.

Realization dawned on Alan. No wonder Gert was already gone before he arrived and emptied everything in the city on his way out. He didn't even leave an ounce of food for him.

He did it on purpose!

Nachmann Family was one of the old nobles of the empire. The current empress, Connor, was a Nachmann. The patriarch of the Nachmann Family, Wilt Nachmann, was a duke and the grandfather of the first prince – his dear brother.

Clearly, Gert was secretly incited by that old duke to do all that he had done, in a bid to deliberately make things difficult for Alan.

If news that the third prince caused public anger and famine right after he arrived in his city spread back to the capital, Alan would have no hope of winning the throne.

"How often do the caravans carrying food come here? Are they still in the city?" Alan asked at once after he tried hard to suppress the anger in his heart.

"They come here only once a month. They arrived here ten days ago. Lord Gert bought all the food and took them away with him, and the caravan will usually leave after selling all the food." Daun dared not look up at Alan, knowing full well that he couldn't afford to get implicated in a dispute at such a level.

"But Your Highness, I know the leader of a small caravan. Although they don't sell food, he may have a way of contacting the food caravan," Daun went on saying.