The fireplace blazed with roaring fire, dispelling the chill seeping through the gaps in doors and windows. At its peak hung a stag's head adorned with massive antlers, their shadows on the wall behind glowing like fearsome claws under the flames.
Across the room stood a dark red long wooden table, piled high with parchment scrolls and books—mostly administrative decrees awaiting signatures. This was where Roland handled his official duties. Ever since he converted the third-floor rooms of the castle into offices, he had grown fond of this space.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, he could see the town stretching out before him, with endless mountains at the horizon. These were the Desolate Mountains, a range that nearly spanned the continent, dividing the Kingdom of Graycastle and the Wild Lands on either side. The North Slope Mountain was merely one branch of the Desolate Mountains.
At the foot of the building, a garden enclosed by wooden fences came into view. The wooden shed used for Anna's training had been dismantled, and the brick pool was transformed into a long table for convenient placement of tableware during afternoon tea. On sunny days, he would go downstairs to bask in the sun or take a nap in a custom-made rocking chair.
Though modest in size, the castle was still a mid-sized villa with its own garden. In his previous life, owning a real stone-built castle would have been a pipe dream—just visiting it would have required buying a ticket. But now, he not only owned the castle but also controlled an entire town.
"Your Highness, the recent recruitment of craftsmen and laborers has been costly, with all the expenses coming from your personal funds. At this rate, we may not last until next spring," Barov reported to Roland, clutching a stack of parchment.
Border Town's original revenue and expenditure system was remarkably simple, centered around a single trade route for minerals and gemstones. This route was monopolized by the Changge Fortress, which converted the North Slope Mine's output into wheat or bread without imposing taxes, with resource exchanges overseen by fortress-appointed representatives. To put it simply, the North Slope Mine was a joint-stock venture operated by the Changge Fortress' Noble families. The Nobles stationed in Border Town served as supervisors appointed by their shareholders, with their fiefs mostly located east of the fortress. They were only temporarily stationed here, and the annual arrivals varied significantly.
Border Town's history is less than thirty years old, making it a newborn compared to the nearly two-century-old Long Song Fortress. Originally, Duke Lane had only planned to establish a outpost here for early warning against monster invasions. However, when the pioneers discovered abundant mineral resources in the North Slope Mountains, they decided to build a settlement and named it Border Town. In a sense, it was the North Slope mines that shaped the town's existence.
To prevent illegal mining and underreporting, the Duke rejected the proposal of nobles sending their own men to mine. Instead, he uniformly employed local residents, nearby displaced people, and even criminals as miners, with the ore output distributed proportionally to each family's investment. The fortress only needed to provide the hired workers with annual food supplies and a fixed commission, which remained constant regardless of the mine's output. Over two thousand residents of Border Town, more than half of whom, served the mining operations.
The other sector comprises the town's other industries—blacksmith shops, taverns, textile workshops, and so on. Border Town derives its meager tax revenue from these sources, with scarcely any surplus throughout the year. The newly appointed Lord showed no interest in this barren land. After Roland was dispatched by the King of Graycastle, he simply stayed in the fortress and never left.
Thus, Roland had to pay out of his own pocket to hire workers for the city wall repairs. Had it been the Fourth Prince, he would have refused outright. But for Roland, spending all his assets to secure a foothold in Border Town was worth it. After all, future ore trade wouldn't be settled in grain anymore—monetary transactions would make such an investment a drop in the ocean.
The only question is whether Changge Fortress would relinquish its monopoly to engage in normal trade with Border Town—a move akin to fighting for a tiger's mouth. However, Barov's data reveals that due to inefficient mining and logistical constraints, the annual ore output from the mine is merely worth a thousand or so Golden Dragons, a mere drop in the ocean compared to the fortress's total revenue. The only party suffering losses is Noble, the partner investor.
For Border Town's sustainable development, this investment must be recouped. Roland knew full well that even if the group had fully recovered their investment over a decade ago, they wouldn't give up so easily. A mosquito may be small, but it's still a bite—especially when it's a golden opportunity that requires no effort. He was willing to offer previous investors certain discounts and compensation, like half-price purchases. But the kind of mistake where hauling back a full shipload of ore only brought half a shipload of food would never happen again.
As Roland stared at the list, Barov kept his eyes locked on him.
Over the past three months—specifically, the last month—the Fourth Prince has undergone subtle yet profound changes. While outsiders might not notice, he has been closely observing these transformations, as he is by the Prince's side every day.
Even during his time at Graycastle, he had heard of the Fourth Prince Roland Wimbledon's notorious reputation—reckless, unscrupulous, and devoid of any noble demeanor. In short, he was impeccable in his major faults yet plagued by minor ones, far inferior to his two brothers.
When His Majesty appointed him here, he was utterly disillusioned. Had His Majesty not promised to appoint him as the official Chancellor of the Exchequer after the succession dispute, he would have quit the job.
During his first two months in Border Town, the Fourth Prince continued his trademark childish antics, alienating every local Noble he could. Fortunately, the town was so small that even if all administrative positions were vacant, he and the dozen or so civilian officials he brought could fill them.
And then things change.
When exactly did the changes begin? He guessed it was probably... when he saved that Witch.
Barov had never ruled out the possibility of the Devil possessing him or the Prince being manipulated by another hidden Witch. Yet such a scenario was highly improbable. If the Devil and the Witch possessed such power, why would they seek out the Fourth Prince? Wouldn't it be far more effective to directly control the Emperor or the Pope? Another piece of evidence that dispelled his doubts was his own observation of the Prince clutching the God's Lock of Punishment.
This is the Church's ultimate weapon against witches—any evil force would crumble before the God's Lock. Yet Roland simply clutched it. If he weren't the Fourth Prince but a demon lord who feared not even God's might, would there be any need to expose him? His survival was the top priority.
Prince's attitude remains as stubborn and reckless as ever, yet the two things don't feel the same to him. No, Barov mused, they're actually opposites.
The most significant difference lies in the purpose. He sensed that Roland was plotting something, and to achieve his goal, he would employ methods beyond ordinary comprehension. Just as the other party tried to convince him why he should save a Witch, the plan might be immature and riddled with flaws, but Prince was indeed moving forward with it, firmly convinced of its outcome.
This is the most perplexing aspect: the throne could descend upon either Roland or his siblings, but never the Fourth Prince himself. He must be acutely aware of this. How could a small border town like Border Town possibly thrive? Even the gods would find it impossible! What kind of delusional scheme did Roland concoct? So insane that it could make a town beyond the frontier defenses flourish better than Golden Spike City, while he himself was utterly convinced of its success?
If it were merely the delusions of a madman, that would be one thing, but Roland's massive construction of the wall suggests otherwise. He genuinely intends to establish a stronghold here, using' cement'—a product of alchemy—to build a wall that defies common sense.
The Barov family had alchemists, yet he had never heard of an alchemy workshop creating such a marvel. To base a wall-building plan on something no one had ever seen—was this sheer confidence or reckless recklessness? As Roland's scheme unfolded, how many secrets of the Fourth Prince remained hidden from him? He found himself growing a faint fascination with the days ahead.