The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

Chapter 1496 - 430: Registering Households! Dividing Land! (Part 4)

That was a rumor circulating in the army.

It is said that a Holy Daughter was born among the rebel army and used "Truth" to convert those murderous thugs, making them take off those damned Green Turbans and once again believe in Saint Sis.

This isn't strange in itself; the farmers of the Ryan Kingdom are inherently cunning and adaptable creatures—whoever provides them with grain is the Holy Daughter; otherwise, it's a witch.

The soldiers on the city walls weren't surprised about this incident, yet were resentful about why Saint Sis chose a bunch of murderous thugs.

In their view, they're certainly the righteous side, after all, they only took what rightfully belonged to the Lord from the villages, without lifting the lids on farmers' pots or scraping the wheat bran off their walls.

Mainly because they couldn't find the grain hidden in farmers' homes, but those Green Turbans clearly knew where the good stuff in the neighbors' homes was hidden.

A suffocating atmosphere hung over every besieged soldier's head.

Even though the Priest in the castle told them that the so-called Holy Daughter was nothing but a self-proclaimed village girl by the rebel army, not even the Priest could explain where the rebels got their grain from.

Could it have been given by a Demon?

That would be too blasphemous.

It is worth mentioning that although people inside the castle were separated from those outside by a moat, communication between them was not entirely shut down; mere orders from officers weren't enough to control it.

Initially, when the rebel army first surrounded the castle, both sides were in a tense standoff, but as time passed and the castle remained unconquered, the rebel army adopted siege tactics, and the restraint became less strict.

Some soldiers would secretly throw stones wrapped in notes over the walls, would secretly share their saved rations with family, neighbors, or even old flames who didn't manage to hide inside the castle.

However, recently, things seemed to have reversed.

The starving people outside were no longer hungry, yet the soldiers inside the castle could only gnaw on cold and hard dry bread, watching the people outside light fires to cook porridge, salivating with envy.

The castle had little firewood, it couldn't be wasted on cooking—it's all reserved for winter supplies.

Regardless of whether porridge or bread was more nutritious, the sight of others eating certainly seemed more appetizing…

"Dear Camille, recently the 'Priest' of the Salvation Army started teaching us to write. This letter was written with the Priest's help, but the signed name is penned by me—isn't it beautiful?

Also, please don't worry about me, we're no longer hungry recently. Those soldiers you call rebels registered our names and decided to send us back home in batches to start farming the land again.

They also said those lands would belong to us, and we wouldn't have to toil for the Lord anymore. As for seeds, they will figure it out, we just need to focus on our own lives.

I truly hope the war ends soon; I dearly miss the old days when we lay on the big haystack sunbathing, drinking pumpkin porridge made by mom, and milky fish soup. Remember I said I'd make it for you? I never forgot.

——Waiting for you at home, Judith."

Sitting on the city rampart, a soldier named James was looking at the creased letter in his hand, his face full of complex emotions.

He wasn't named Camille, nor did he know Judith, it was just a coincidence that his family served the Lord for generations and he happened to know how to spell.

As for the letter, he found it while patrolling, wrapped around a hard piece of bread, inside was a copper coin for bribery... seemingly intending to bribe whoever found the letter.

He certainly wouldn't be bought by a mere copper coin and take enormous risks to find that soldier named Camille, but he couldn't help his curiosity...

"Priest? How on earth do those rebels have a Priest?" he muttered under his breath, reading the not-too-long letter over and over again, unable to distinguish if he was persuading himself or reminiscing about those lost good times.

Before the Chaos army approached the Brass Pass, their days were quite good.

No one was hungry.

No one ever died because of another's ambition.

Back then, he never thought he'd fight against his hometown people before battling Demons from Hell and Devils of Chaos.

"What are you doing?"

A commanding voice came from behind, startling James who was immersed in the letter.

He instinctively wanted to hide the letter but met the stern gaze of the Knight Captain.

Without hesitation, he stood straight and loyally reported.

"Sir, I found a letter!"

"Hand it to me!"

"Yes!"

James gingerly handed over the letter while silently praying for the soldier named Camille.

The Knight Captain read the letter with a stern face, perusing the text more than once, but contrary to James's expectations, he didn't blow up, merely silently put away the letter.

"Where did you find it?"

James swallowed, pointed to the nearby battlement which faced a rugged slope covered with trees and bushes—not easy for the watchtower to spot.

"Around here… could've been shot up by a slingshot."

The Knight Captain nodded, expressionless, and said, "Continue patrolling, don't overlook any movement. If you find anything else, report it to me immediately."

James breathed a sigh of relief and respectfully replied, "Yes!"

...

Elsewhere, Camille's letter went through several hands and arrived at Knight Rayden's hands.

Upon seeing the letter, this loyal knight did not hesitate and immediately went to the Lord's hall, handing it over to Count Thelon Gard who was pacing back and forth on the red carpet.

After reading the letter, Thelon's lips turned pale with anger, shoulders shaking.

Finally, he furiously crumpled the letter into a ball and slammed it onto the ground, raging.

"Pass my order! Find this Camille for me!"

"My Lord, absolutely not!" Rayden exclaimed in shock and hurriedly pleaded, "This soldier named Camille has committed no wrongdoing; we cannot punish him just because someone wrote him a letter. He didn't even find the letter! The morale in the castle is already low; if we panic ourselves, it'll only give the rebel army outside an opportunity!"

Though Count Thelon wasn't a competent Lord, he was still open to counsel.

He clearly realized this pointed out, venting anger on an insignificant soldier was meaningless.

Furthermore, it might as well be a trick by the rebels; Camille's existence itself was uncertain.

His heaving chest gradually calmed, he waved to signal the prepared guards to return to their positions.

Yet, the anger gathered in his chest hadn't dissipated.

He couldn't fathom how the starving people outside were fed, and how many forces were sponsoring this foolish and meaningless revolt—even providing food and weapons.

"...I didn't expect these rebels to be so vicious, coming up with the land distribution trick."

Regardless if they fulfill their promise, it's enough to drive the mud-legs following them mad.

"What I fear is precisely this; the letter in your hand might well be the tip of the iceberg. Where we haven't yet observed, rumors might have long spread."

Rayden gazed solemnly at the stiff-faced Count, speaking gravely, "If things continue to develop unchecked, not just the people outside the castle, even those inside might start to lose composure..."