From the moment they entered the Northern Border, Barlow found the scene to be almost identical to what Caudic had promoted back then—ruined walls everywhere, the cries of children, and the incessant cawing of crows and vultures.
The able-bodied young men were nowhere to be seen, seemingly all conscripted as soldiers, while the fields were tended by old men. The whole Northern Border felt lifeless.
This made Barlow’s heart race, gripping his sister Sharen’s hand and the rune scroll in his arms, ready to jump off the carriage at any moment.
After a while, the horse-drawn carriage suddenly became stable, allowing Barlow to finally relax his anxious heart.
Once the carriage became stable, the surroundings no longer consisted entirely of ruins; even the scattered buildings appeared more exquisite than most of those in the Royal Capital, at least far fancier than the house Barlow rented in the Outer District.
The road seemed paved with some alchemical material, making it hard to imagine how much money the local lord spent to connect these roads.
The area was bustling with the voices of people, as trade caravans constantly passed by. Although Barlow had heard that the economy of the western Northern Border prospered because of the Champagne Nobility, the splendor here exceeded his imagination.
“Is this Graywhite Territory?” Barlow asked the carriage driver curiously.
“No, this is Evans Territory, which seems to have recently been renamed Stone Song County because it produces stones in abundance.”
The carriage driver began to chatter endlessly, similar to a modern taxi driver.
“Though stones are common everywhere, the Governor claims that the stones here are the best for building houses and castles. I don’t understand these things, but the Governor must know best; the entire Western region builds houses with stones from here.”
Barlow looked around and indeed saw that most houses were constructed from the same type of black stone.
“And look at that waterwheel; I heard it was commissioned by the Governor’s wife. It’s a pity that Stone Song County is not big enough; the waterwheel in Graywhite Territory is much larger. I’ve heard that scholars have come to Graywhite Territory to study waterwheels. Our Governor’s wife is much smarter than those scholars.”
The driver’s pride was evident, which confused Barlow; Lena Lars seemed quite different from the noble shame rumored in the Royal Capital.
At that moment, the carriage was suddenly stopped, causing Barlow to tense up. Surely, there wouldn’t be another unexpected incident?
A nun wearing a strange beaked mask climbed into the carriage and asked, “Are there any patients with an illness here?”
Barlow tightened his grip on Sharen’s hand. She glanced at him, and he shook his head to signal her not to make a sound.
It was likely that the other party knew about the strange illnesses that had appeared in the Royal Capital and feared these illnesses would infect the territory.
But Barlow had no choice; his sister was everything to him. If she were taken away, he would rather flee with her.
Seeing no one speaking, the nun was not in a hurry. She said, “The Governor has stated that if anyone falls ill, they can go to the nearest church for treatment at no cost. We just hope everyone does not hide it.”
Everyone in the carriage dared not say a word; who would believe such good fortune? It was possible that once they arrived at the local church, they would disappear or even be gathered for burning.
The nun remained calm and took out her pocket watch, waiting. Just as Barlow didn’t know what she intended to do, Sharen suddenly tugged at Barlow’s sleeve.
Seeing Sharen’s face flushed from holding back, Barlow knew she was about to cough up blood. Just as he was about to make a loud noise to cover her, Sharen finally couldn’t help but cough painfully.
She looked at the blood on her hands and felt her vision blur; her already weak body combined with the extreme tension made her feel dizzy.
The nun noticed Sharen and slowly moved closer, her hand rummaging through her bag.
Seeing this, Barlow quickly protected Sharen in his arms, shouting, “My sister is just a bit unwell; we will leave on our own. Don’t come any closer!”
The nun seemed unfazed. The intense pressure from her beaked mask made Barlow feel a sense of despair. Had choosing to come to the Northern Border been a mistake?
The nun squatted down, and just when Barlow thought she would grab his sister, she simply reached out to touch Sharen in a few spots before checking her forehead. Then she took out a vial of potion from her bag and said, “Drink this.”
Sharen was somewhat afraid, fearful that if she drank this potion, she might never wake up again. Barlow even tried to snatch it away, but the nun’s quick reflexes made him miss.
As the nun understood what was happening, she reluctantly removed her mask, revealing a face pocked with scars. This shocked both Barlow and Sharen. Barlow quickly realized that the nun’s scarring was somewhat similar to Sharen’s condition.
“I was once like this, much worse than you,” she said. “But after drinking this potion, I felt much better. You are currently just in the early stages of symptoms and will recover soon without leaving unsightly scars like ours.”
“These are potions passed down from the Governor, and they’ll help you get better quickly.”
After the nun finished speaking, she offered the potion to Sharen again.
Barlow hesitated, but after Sharen glanced at the nun’s face beneath the mask, she took the potion and drank it in one gulp.
“Brother, I feel much better!” Sharen said in disbelief, touching her own body, shocked at Barlow.
Seeing this, the nun put her mask back on and said, “Once you reach Graythorn Territory, remember to report your health condition to the local church every week. If other symptoms appear, you must contact the local nun immediately. Understood?”
Sharen dazedly nodded, and after the nun briefly recorded the siblings’ information, she jumped down from the carriage.
Soon, the carriage continued on its journey.
“Are you really not feeling any discomfort?” Barlow looked at his sister, whose complexion was gradually improving, in astonishment.
“I’m really feeling so much better, Brother,” Sharen gently whispered in his ear. “Moreover, the potion tasted a bit like the holy water you gave me before.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know; it seems a bit different.”
Hearing Sharen’s response, Barlow finally felt relieved. Holy water wasn’t something you could find everywhere; perhaps the Governor of Graythorn Territory had developed a special potion.
“Brother, the holy water you gave me tasted watered down; this one is even better.”
“…”
Barlow, who had thought the rumors of the Governor being a descendant of the Old Empire were pure nonsense, suddenly felt it wasn’t impossible. After all, it seemed more credible than freely distributing holy water.
Thus, the siblings once again embarked on their journey to Graythorn Territory. In the carriage, Barlow drowsily recalled the nun’s scarred face and suddenly jolted awake, slapping himself.
“I really am a fool.”
