RPAGF #513 - It's me.
#513 - It's me.
“Does this potato and rice porridge seem burnt?” Sniffing the earthenware pot on the table, Horn stood up. “I’ll get some honey to cover it up.”
“Eat it or leave it, your choice.”
Horn watched Jeanne, her face flushed, flee back to the kitchen, and instinctively looked at Catherine, who was grinning like a fox.
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything. Didn’t you tell me to improve my relationship with Jeanne?” Catherine spread her hands. “I’m just doing as you said.”
Horn sized her up and down before dismissing his suspicions, then turned to Armand, who was cleaning goose feather quills at the door, and shouted, “Call those guys to eat breakfast.”
“Alright.”
Currently, Horn’s residence had no slaves or servants; it was basically all composed of the Loyal Champions.
And there were no rules during meals; regardless of background, everyone ate at the table.
The only exception was that the head seat had to be reserved for Horn.
Horn’s courtyard was located behind the castle, with the old-timers living in the two row houses on either side of the courtyard.
The three villas behind them housed the Cheka and Night Watch guards, and the road was patrolled by military police on both sides.
Of course, the greatest security measure was inside the house.
With Catherine and Jeanne, two witches, present, a hundred demon hunters wouldn’t even be able to breach the mansion.
Meat and vegetable pies were placed on the table, and the aroma filled the air, causing Horn’s stomach to immediately rumble.
He stood up, eagerly picked up a meat and vegetable pie, and was about to fill his stomach when Jeanne interrupted him from the kitchen: “Don’t eat, don’t eat, we haven’t had the pre-meal prayer yet.”
“Tch, who the hell came up with pre-meal prayers?” Complaining, Horn put down the meat and vegetable pie he was holding.
But when he looked up, he found Jeanne in the kitchen, along with several other child soldiers, staring straight at him.
“Oh, it was me, never mind then.”
Taking a sip of red tea, Horn awkwardly lowered his head and continued to read the newspaper in his hand.
Yes, the newspaper, a freshly printed newspaper.
After progress was made in movable-type printing technology, the first thing Horn did was to try printing newspapers.
With coordination from various parties, the Papal Palace created an official newspaper.
This newspaper did not need to be purchased; it was delivered to the cardinals’ homes by special personnel, and the rest were placed in workplaces.
This was the *Truth Gazette*, newly printed by the Truth Tribunal’s direct printing workshop, published every half month, and currently in its third issue.
This *Truth Gazette* evolved from the notices posted monthly on bulletin boards in villages and cities, divided into two sheets, four pages, and eight sections, each section about the size of an A4 paper.
The eight sections were divided into four content areas: scholars’ commentary articles, doctrine and war reports, recent policy trends and personnel changes, news and prices, and reader submissions.
However, due to technological limitations, small-sized movable type could not be created, so the characters on this newspaper were very large, and naturally, not much could be written.
An article ended in a few hundred words, and a newspaper had only a dozen articles and news items in total.
According to the Truth Tribunal, at the current level, it was not a problem to equip it to the level of the priestly order.
When this internal newspaper accumulated experience, it could gradually issue external official newspapers, and even open private newspaper offices.
Holding the newspaper in his hand, the inferior light yellow paper emitted a stench, and the printing was full of black spots and ink smudges.
Horn didn’t even dare to use too much force, fearing he might accidentally tear the newspaper.
Reading the newspaper in the morning felt like something his grandfather’s generation would do, but now, it was a fairly advanced information acquisition model.
Don’t think Horn knew everything; he didn’t have five eyes and six ears.
The Cheka didn’t report everything; would they even get anything done then?
Putting down his teacup and opening the newspaper, he naturally didn’t see news headlines like “Shocking! Saint Catherine Appears at the Pope’s Room Door Early in the Morning…” or “Jeanne Angrily Beats a Military Officer, Sending Him Flying Five Meters.”
Instead, there were conventional headlines like “Good News, the Holy Axis Alliance is Established” and “Six Iber River Docks Expected to be Put Out to Tender.”
According to past standards, these dock projects were basically guided by Witt.
But currently, Witt had projects in Autumn Dusk Island and Jeanneburg, and was unable to handle them all, and the state-owned stonemasons were not enough, so they were put out to tender.
These docks were just simple transshipment docks, even temporary docks, just to open up trade channels between the two sides as soon as possible.
So, they didn’t need to be designed as carefully as Autumn Dusk Island; as long as they were usable, that was enough, and the local stonemasons’ skills were definitely sufficient.
In early November, as winter was approaching and the busy farming season was over,
there was a lot of surplus labor, which was perfect for helping build the docks.
Turning to the second page, Horn’s quickly scanning gaze suddenly turned back, pausing on the local news section.
“…Recently, Norse laborers have formed labor groups, and have repeatedly clashed with local laborers… Armand, Armand, come here for a moment.”
“Your Eminence?” Armand happened to poke his head out from behind the door. Seeing Horn beckoning, he ran over in a puff of smoke.
At this time, Catherine and Jeanne finally walked out of the kitchen, carrying stewed mixed vegetables.
“What’s wrong?” Putting down the earthenware pot, Jeanne wiped the water off her hands with her apron.
“Do you know about the Norse laborers?”
“I know.” Jeanne pulled over the newspaper, reading word by word, “Norse laborers clash with local laborers… I’ve seen it several times.”
Listening to Jeanne’s explanation, Horn learned that after summer, the Mander County Church, which was solely defended by the Norse, entered a ceasefire period.
As a result, a large number of Norse county hillbillies returned to their hometowns, and the Norse county hillbillies who had made a fortune in the previous war in Langsand County also wanted to return home.
When the two sides met, the old folks from the Mander County battlefield realized they had been tricked.
The Norse County hillbilly knights at the time firmly believed in the rumors of Mander County’s weakness, and regarded Melia’s mention of sending troops to Langsand County as a chore.
Helping a group of farmers defeat a duke didn’t sound reliable.
But now, damn it, those farmers actually defeated the Edict Legion, it was unfair.
The hillbilly knights originally thought that Horn’s identity as a holy grandson and chosen Pope was fake, but now they were a little suspicious.
The knights led by Myra, and the hillbillies who went to Langsand County, had made a fortune, bought land in the plains, built houses, and were going to move their families there.
But they still had to struggle in the mountains, which was too unfair.
A large number of Norse County hillbillies decided to go down the mountain and seek gold in Jeanneburg.
In just one month, nearly a thousand Norse hillbillies poured in, without any other skills or identity, except for carrying bags at the docks or working as construction workers and bricklayers.
These hillbillies had always been brave and liked to stick together.
Although they wouldn’t do anything sneaky, they always clashed with the locals, increasing a lot of security costs.
“How come I didn’t know about this?” Hearing that nothing serious had happened, Horn felt relieved.
“You’ve been busy with the Holy Axis these days, how can you have the energy to pay attention to these small things.” Explaining this, Jeanne shook her head regretfully, “They’re all good marksmen, if they had come earlier, they could have been put into the Black Hat Legion as recruits.”
“No wonder.” Armand suddenly slapped his forehead, took out a letter from his pocket.
Horn closed the newspaper and took the letter from his hand: “Why are you so jumpy, what’s going on.”
“Just now when I went out, I saw Myra walking back and forth at the door. I asked him what he was doing, he told me to hand this letter to you and ran away.” Armand grinned, “I guess it’s about this.”