When Vaid took off his patched coat and put on the new uniform, he felt warm all over.
The garment features a thick leather outer layer with a cotton lining underneath, combining the warmth of leather with the softness of fabric. These materials alone are likely worth several Silver Wolves.
Though its design resembles the town hall uniform, the color scheme is strikingly different—both the jacket and trousers feature a solid black base, with white striped trim on the shoulders, collar, and cuffs, creating a highly conspicuous appearance. When the fifteen individuals stood in formation again in their new uniforms, they instinctively straightened their chests slightly.
"Very well," Carter said with a satisfied smile. "Now follow me." The sky still held light snowfall, and for the first time, Vaid witnessed snow falling continuously since autumn. Though Golden Ear City occasionally saw snow, it would usually stop within a day or two. Children often built snowmen or rolled snowballs along the streets, making heavy snowfalls a childhood tradition. Yet for adults, it brought significant inconvenience: wet, moldy shoes, impassable streets, deserted shops, and even occasional roof collapses.
By this hour, the patrol team would never venture out. If they did, they'd only seek out taverns where everyone would gather around the fireplace, sipping warm ale while flirting with Maid.
All of this is absent in Border Town.
Every day, people clear the snow from the streets and sweep it to the sides—this is a long-term job posting by the city hall, offering daily or monthly pay, considered a low-paying but fast-track job.
The town streets buzz with townspeople—some wearing straw hats, others draped in cloaks—each busy with their own tasks. If all the snow in the town were cleared away, it would be summer without a doubt.
Had he not seen it with his own eyes, Vaid would never have believed that a small border town could be busier than Jin Sui City. Were it not for the towering church and bell tower in the town, he might have mistaken it for a bustling metropolis.
Soon, the group reached the dock where over a dozen sailboats were moored in the Chishui River, and hundreds had already gathered on the shore. The scene felt strangely familiar... Wait, Vaid thought. He remembered arriving in the town with other refugees from the Eastern Frontier under the same circumstances.
"Report! These are refugees from the South and North," Carter announced. "Your Highness has dispatched them to Border Town to ensure their safe winter survival. Your task is to assist the town hall in maintaining order, guiding them through the checkpoint in orderly lines for quarantine and registration." He added, "The police are currently understaffed, so First Army soldiers will assist you. Eventually, you'll need to handle this independently." "Yes!" The task sounded straightforward—much like directing refugees to collect porridge. Vaid approached the checkpoint and began shouting commands, rallying the crowd to follow his lead.
"Your name? Where are you from? Any special skills or literacy?" Every refugee passing through the checkpoint would be questioned by municipal staff, with their information recorded. Vaid knew this was just preliminary screening. Once all were settled, thorough verification would follow, and those with specialized skills would be prioritized for relocation to the inner city—this entire process he had personally experienced before.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted behind him. Wid turned around and saw a man in a velvet robe, escorted by a group of guards, approaching the dock area. His flowing gray long hair revealed his identity—the local Lord, Roland Wimbledon, Your Highness. Several dignitaries in formal attire stood beside him, likely the heads of the town hall.
To everyone's surprise, Your Royal Highness personally braved the blizzard to inspect the refugees—a rare gesture for a Noble in the bitter winter, especially when servants were handling all the arrangements.
"My name is Mane, a native of the North. Well... I'm quite skilled at farming. I can't read or write." "Farming?" The town hall clerk ticked the box on the record form. "Alright, you may proceed." At that moment, Vaid noticed the man glance toward Your Royal Highness's standing direction as he cleared the checkpoint. His eyes held no trace of reverence, starkly different from the solemn gaze of an ordinary citizen.
"Wait," he said, almost instinctively.
"What's wrong?" "You're a farmer? When should winter wheat be sown?" The municipal official glanced at him, his face showing impatience. "This is just preliminary registration. I can't verify each claim individually. Didn't Lord Carter explain the procedure to you? Your job is to keep things in order." Hearing this, the man immediately fell silent.
What a fool! Vaid frowned and said indifferently, "Your speech doesn't sound like a northerner—it's more like the accent of the central kingdom. Are you from that northern town? I know it well." The bearded man hesitated but still didn't reply.
"Your outfit—this kind of attire in the North would freeze your fingers to death, even if you didn't freeze to death. It's below freezing all year round there." Vaid grabbed his right hand. "And your gloves? Don't tell me you came to Border Town and found it warmer here, so you threw them away." The checkpoint officer now sensed something was amiss. If someone lied about being skilled at something, it might be to get better treatment, but hiding one's origin seemed suspicious. "Where the hell are you from?" Vaid gritted his teeth, suddenly pulling out a red pill from his chest and slamming it into his mouth. "Get out of here!" Vaid felt his wrist burn with heat. He reflexively tried to pin Vaid down, but no matter how hard he tried, Vaid remained immobile. Then Vaid's arm shot up, and Vaid felt himself being flung into the air.
He fell heavily to the ground, accompanied by a searing pain behind his back. Damn it, the wound had split open. He spat out saliva, shook his dazed head, and scrambled to his feet—only to find his mane had long since vanished from its original position.
Four or five more refugees darted out from the crowd, their movements as nimble as the mythical beasts beyond the city walls. With a few swift leaps, they vaulted over the makeshift barricades erected by the town hall and charged straight toward Your Royal Highness.
The group's objective is crystal clear—they're after the top officials of Border Town and Lord.
The thought of the wild force unleashed by the mane almost made Vaid envision Your Royal Highness's personal guards being torn apart on the spot, with even the Prince himself likely to meet the same fate.
Yet none of this has happened.
He soon heard a series of clanging sounds—just like the soldiers on the city wall fighting against the evil beast.
White smoke rose before Prince.
The head of the bristle turned into a bunch of blood flowers in the smoke.