At Eagle's Nest Mountain, able-bodied hunters often have to venture deep into the mountains to hunt, facing unpredictable weather and ferocious beasts, resulting in an extremely high casualty rate.
Therefore, to ensure order in the village when the hunters do not return, the position of Village Chief of Eagle's Nest Mountain has historically been held by women who are physically slight and unable to hunt, yet possess meticulous minds.
Joy extended a hand covered in chilblains and calluses, trembling as she subconsciously wanted to touch Sophia's gorgeous black fox fur, but shrank back in mid-air, as if afraid the cold air on her body would blaspheme this sacred young girl.
"Your Majesty, benevolent Majesty."
Joy's voice was as dry and harsh as fallen leaves in late autumn.
"Eagle's Nest Mountain can't hold on much longer.
Since that blizzard fell, the entire mountain has turned into a white tomb.
Some people went into the mountains and never came out again. The remaining people can only survive on dried salted meat from the summer.
But the snow is too heavy, the roads are sealed, the prey is extinct, and even the fire seeds are about to freeze to death in the stove."
She raised her cloudy eyes, which were filled with dried-up despair:
"Yesterday, just yesterday, Old Hans's three-year-old grandson stopped crying.
We could only hold him in our arms, watching helplessly as he turned cold bit by bit.
We thought Mason had already forgotten us. We thought we pariahs, who only know how to chop wood and hunt, were destined to rot in this white snow and become grinding bones for the wolf packs in the coming year."
Joy knelt in the snow, her slight body trembling violently. This shock of returning from the dead almost made her unable to maintain consciousness.
Sophia quietly looked down at this slight woman, her pale golden pupils reflecting Joy's humble posture.
She did not support the other person like those merciful saints; instead, she leaned back slightly, her tone clear, cold, and haughty.
"Joy, do you think This Queen is a mediocrity who cannot even guard her own property?"
Joy froze, looking up blankly.
"Every blade of grass and tree on Eagle's Nest Mountain, and even every one of your bones, bears Mason's mark."
Sophia's voice penetrated the wind and snow, carrying a kind of unreasonable logic.
"Only when This Queen allows you to die do you have the qualification to close your eyes.
Before that, even if the God of Death passes through this valley, he must first pay customs duties for crossing the border to This Queen.
The reason you are still alive now is that This Queen does not accept the unprovoked loss of tax sources."
Sophia pointed to the wheat porridge steaming not far away, her tone flat but full of oppression:
"Since you have drunk This Queen's porridge, keep your lives for This Queen.
When the flowers bloom in spring, This Queen wants to see warehouses piled high with hardwood and animal skins.
Here in Mason, there is no free food. The rest of your lives have already been mortgaged to the Throne."
In this era without polyester fibers, people could only rely on various animal skins for warmth.
These extremely cold words fell into the ears of these subjects who had been despairing for a long time, yet they were warmer than any soft spoken words.
Your Majesty... she isn't talking about money.
She is using this domineering method to tell us that she will never give up on us!
Even for that little bit of tax revenue, she would break through this thousand miles of ice to personally descend before the humble us.
This contract of being needed is the most solid path to survival!
Joy wept silently, kowtowing heavily against the snow:
"Willing to serve you, my Supreme Queen! Every drop of blood in Eagle's Nest Mountain will flow for you!"
Sophia sighed, and Willow, standing aside, hurriedly went to help this frail old woman up.
As the minced salted meat in the iron pot thoroughly merged with the beans and wheat, a thick wheat fragrance that almost couldn't melt away charged recklessly through the wind and snow.
"Line up! Anyone who dares to crowd goes to the very back!"
Chancellor Victor had already taken off his heavy coat, standing in front of the first iron pot.
His old face, usually dignified, appeared exceptionally kind under the mist of steam at this moment, yet revealed a trace of sacred Divine Authority.
The subjects spontaneously formed a long line.
They were too weak; many could only support each other, dragging heavy steps to move on the snow.
That was a group of people tortured out of human shape by hunger—sunken eye sockets, withered hair, and the uniform sound of swallowing saliva subconsciously emitted when looking at that pot of meat porridge.
"Everyone drink slowly; the grain Your Majesty brought is enough to last you until the beginning of spring!"
Victor waved the huge wooden ladle. Every time he scooped up a ladle, the glistening grease of the wheat inside could be seen.
A frail hunter's family member tremblingly handed over a chipped pottery bowl. When that ladle of boiling hot, viscous porridge was poured into the bowl, his wrist trembled frantically due to excessive excitement.
He greedily smelled the aroma that rushed straight to the top of his skull, then, ignoring the scalding heat, fiercely gulped down a large mouthful.
"Hiss—so warm, so fragrant!"
He held a mouthful of porridge, the choking sound emitted due to his throat not having eaten for a long time mixing with the swallowing sound, tears falling plip-plop into the bowl.
Victor watched this scene and raised his volume at the appropriate time. His voice echoed in the wilderness, carrying a certain fanatical inflammatory nature:
"Fellow countrymen! Open your eyes and look!
It is not some noble or goddess who sent you grain, but Her Majesty Queen Sophia herself!
How much tax did you pay every year in the past? Nine parts were taken out of ten!
But did they care about your life or death? During the snow disaster, did they ever send a single carriage?"
The subjects frantically licked the residue on their spoons while shaking their heads subconsciously, their eyes revealing fear of past suffering.
For many years, this was the first King to come and deliver grain in the winter.
"But the current Mason! In the place where the Black Rose banner shines!"
Victor pointed to the grim young girl beside the carriage.
"Your Majesty has already issued a decree. The tax rate in all Mason territories has been lowered.
Moreover, these grains today are not charity, nor do they require you to exchange more labor force for them. This is Your Majesty's civilization empowerment to her subjects."
"Civilization?"
An elderly woodcutter in the line raised his head in confusion, porridge stains still on his mouth.
"That's right! Civilization!"
Victor patted the wooden crate beside him heavily, the Black Rose symbol on it glimmering under the setting sun.
"Civilization is no longer letting you wait for death like livestock. Civilization is letting you use your diligent hands to exchange for a life where you can breathe the scent of mint even in winter!
What Your Majesty wants is not a group of slaves kneeling on the ground, but a group of warriors who can straighten their backbones and split mountains and rocks for the glory of Mason!
In the future, you don't need to starve yourselves to death to pay one more mouthful of grain. Every grain of rice you save will become something in your own pockets, rations for your children.
As long as you are loyal to the Black Rose, dignity and food and clothing are the eternal medals Your Majesty bestows upon you!"
The subjects' originally dead eyes, amidst Victor's deafening declarations, regathered the light of fire bit by bit.
For them, the previous Kings were like dark clouds far on the horizon, only raining to harvest. But Queen Sophia was like the only fireplace in this blizzard.
"The tax rate lowered to sixty-five? Heavens..."
"This decision is too wise."
"Does Your Majesty really treat us as human beings?"
"Dignity, this kind of thing, can we really have it?
Listening to these words, I just feel that as long as we follow Your Majesty, even if there are more wolf packs in the mountains, we won't be afraid!"
The subjects whispered among themselves. The crowd, originally scattered due to hunger, actually faintly birthed a kind of thing named cohesion at this moment.
The look in their eyes as they looked at Sophia had already sublimated from simple awe to a worship akin to that of fanatics.
In the line, that little girl who had just received porridge ran not far from Sophia's carriage and knelt down with a thud.
She didn't speak, only holding high her bowl of steaming hot porridge, as if offering a sacrifice to a deity.
Immediately after, one, ten, a hundred...
Over two hundred subjects of Eagle's Nest Mountain spontaneously knelt into a black mass of a crowd in the snow.
They did not beg, did not clamor, but uniformly performed the most humble and also the most devout etiquette toward that black figure.
Victor watched this scene and quietly retreated to the side of the carriage, his eyes full of pride.
"Your Majesty, just as you foresaw.
With this mouthful of porridge, Eagle's Nest Mountain will have no second thoughts from now on.
Their souls have already been engraved with the veins of the Black Rose."
Sophia indifferently took a sip of the wild berry juice that had long gone cold. Looking at these faces that, although covered in dirt and grime, radiated astonishing vitality, she sighed in her heart.
Victor, this fellow, it's really a waste of talent for him not to engage in cults.
However, these people are dressed so thinly, and they keep kneeling back and forth in the snow; isn't it too easy to get rheumatism?
"All rise."
Sophia's wrist moved slightly, and Willow at her side immediately took the wild berry juice.
"This Queen remembers that the subjects of Eagle's Nest Mountain have made a living by hunting for generations.
Why is it that apart from these wind-leaking rotten rags on your bodies, not even a complete fur coat can be seen?"
She pointed to a hunter in the distance who was frozen until his lips were blue but still straightened his spine.
"The fur of beasts is the most natural cold-proof item in this mountain.
Could it be that the beasts you hunt only have meat and no skin?"
The air fell into a brief dead silence; only the sound of the wind echoed in the valley.
Village Chief Joy bent her waist deeply, her withered hands tightly gripping the corner of her clothes, answering with a trembling voice:
"Replying to Your Majesty, it isn't that we can't hunt furs.
But in the years before Mason, fur was money for survival.
The previous tax collectors, besides taking away ninety percent of the meat, would even scour away those high-quality deerskins, fox skins, and even ordinary wild boar skins as additional contributions.
The little bit of scraps remaining were gone after exchanging for some millet, wheat, and flint. How could we bear to wear them on ourselves?"
"That doesn't go so far as to not have a single one."
Sophia's pair of pale golden pupils looked straight at Joy, as if wanting to see through lies.
At this time, a woman in the back row holding a child in her arms suddenly sobbed, emboldening herself to raise her head, her eyes full of broken sorrow:
"Your Majesty, the family actually saved a wolf skin jacket.
That was exchanged by the child's father with half his life last year. But these days we felt... felt that Mason had already forgotten us, and we were all going to starve to death in this snowdrift.
Since we were all going to die, it was the same whatever we adults wore; in the end, it was just turning into a pile of dry bones.
I wrapped the fur jacket around the child, thinking just in case... in case we died, that fur jacket might be able to protect the child for a while longer. Eating some tree bark or something, maybe he could wait until spring for someone to discover him..."
The woman's words triggered a burst of low sobbing.
On the edge of despair, these subjects chose a most primitive and also most great sacrifice.
Leaving the resources for survival to the future, even if they thought the future would not arrive at all.
Victor stood aside, looking at these subjects shrinking into a ball in the cold wind yet leaving the best furs to the younger generation, his heart struck by a huge shock once again.
Your Majesty's question is simply a stroke of genius.
She isn't blaming the subjects for not wearing clothes; she is publicly tearing open the scars of the old era!
She let the subjects say out of their own mouths the cruelty of the ninety percent tax rate, thereby forming a strong contrast with her benevolent governance.
What is even deeper is that through the question of furs, Your Majesty drew out the subjects' despair for the future, and she wants to personally break this despair!
She wants to tell these subjects that under the banner of the Black Rose, you do not need to sacrifice yourselves to preserve the children, because the Queen will preserve all of you at the same time!
This ambition to destroy sacrificialism from the root and establish common prosperity is the true Master of Civilization!
Victor wiped away tears of excitement and hurriedly recorded in his small notebook.
Your Majesty's benevolence, famous quotes, and great achievements—he would tell them all to future generations!
Sophia listened to these explanations and roughly understood.
That kind of method of draining the pond to get all the fish... no wonder Mason was so poor before that they couldn't even afford to eat.
"Absurd."
Sophia spat out two words coldly.
"In This Queen's view, this is not only sorrow but also low-efficiency stupidity."
She turned around, the black fox fur drawing a sharp arc in the wind.
"If the adults all freeze to death, who will protect these children?
Who will enter the mountains to hunt more supplies for This Queen when spring arrives?"
She looked at Victor and issued the most direct order of the day.
"Victor, distribute that batch of thick blankets prepared in the convoy; one for every family.
In addition, pass the order to Joy: tonight, everyone must put on the animal skins at the bottom of their chests. No fantasies left for the future are allowed.
What This Queen wants is a living labor force, not a pile of orphans covered in wolf skins."
The subjects were stunned.
They originally thought they would face a reprimand, but they didn't expect the Queen to tear their despair to shreds directly.
"On This Queen's territory, freezing to death is a blasphemy against This Queen's power."
Sophia stepped onto the carriage footboard, turning her face sideways, her voice crisp like ice blocks colliding.
"The tax rate has already been lowered; naturally, you can keep a bit more.
Wear warm clothes, then go hunt more beasts for This Queen, understand?"
"Understood! Thanking Your Majesty for your immense grace!"
As those rolls of thick blankets were unloaded from the convoy, the subjects of Eagle's Nest Mountain wrapped them around their bodies in fear and trepidation, as if welcoming holy relics.
Under Sophia's nearly mandatory requirement for warmth, the hunters dug out those wolf skins and bear skins that were once regarded as heirlooms or final assets. The originally deathly white in the village was gradually replaced by heavy animal skin brown and warmth.
The aroma of hot porridge mixed with the solid grain taste of Black Bread allowed this land peeped at by the God of Death to return to the human world.
Piles of Black Bread like small hills, bags of durable beans, and high-yield wheat were sent into the storage designated by Village Chief Joy.
The hunters, wearing furs and having eaten and drunk their fill, puffed out their chests. The fire named allegiance reignited in their originally cloudy eyes.
The look in their eyes as they looked at Sophia was no longer looking at a monarch high above, but looking at a True God sending down oracles in a shrine.
"Since Your Majesty has given us a path to live."
An older hunter forcefully tightened the leather belt at his waist, his voice becoming resonant due to having confidence.
"We cannot let Your Majesty's dining table only have cold wild berry juice!"
Several able-bodied hunters who had recovered their strength walked together to the front of the carriage. Holding longbows in their hands, they bowed deeply to Sophia. The eyes of the leading man were full of sincerity.
"Your Majesty!"
The man's voice was exceptionally loud in the cold wind.
"You saved our lives and also preserved our dignity.
The men of Eagle's Nest Mountain have no other skills, but the deer and Frost Plains Rabbits in this mountain have a flavor that those livestock on the plains cannot compare to.
Please give us half a day. We will definitely hunt back the freshest game for you, letting you taste the gift of the great mountains before you depart!"
The subjects responded one after another, and Village Chief Joy also looked at Sophia full of expectation.
In their simple values, letting the benefactor eat a good meal was the highest praise.
Sophia sat upright on the edge of the carriage. Hearing this, the tip of her nose seemed to already smell the fragrance of charcoal-grilled venison sizzling with oil.
As a deep lover of gourmet food, in this scarce winter, this was undoubtedly a huge temptation.
However, she glanced at the gray skyline in the distance; that was the direction of Withered Willow Town.
"Game is indeed tempting."
Sophia withdrew her gaze, her voice remaining flat and clear-cold.
"But This Queen's carriage did not come to tour the hunting grounds.
The subjects of Withered Willow Town are still counting the remaining grains of rice in the wind and snow. Staying half a day longer, Mason might have dozens more grave mounds."
She waved her cuff lightly, signaling the soldiers to prepare to depart.
"Your good intentions, This Queen accepts.
Keep those prey. Wait until the flowers bloom in spring, and exchange them for more tax money and good seeds.
This Queen prefers to see a wealthy mine rather than a brief banquet."
Chancellor Victor at the side was originally also hooked by the venison, but after listening to Sophia's words, he was so ashamed he wished he could find a snowdrift to burrow into.
Look! This is our great Queen! In the face of ultimate delicious food, she didn't even hesitate for a second.
She gave up the enjoyment the Royal House deserved, gave up the feast of a victor receiving titles, just to rush to the next disaster area a minute, a second faster.
This kind of noble sentiment of dedicating oneself to public service and regarding the people's wounds as one's own is simply a Divine Miracle that has never occurred since the founding of Mason!
Your Majesty is using her own desires to exchange for the subjects' vitality!
Victor wiped away a tear and said to those hunters:
"Retreat quickly! What Your Majesty holds in her heart is the entire map of Mason, the entire populace of Mason!
Why aren't you hurrying to prepare to clear the road? Don't delay Your Majesty's journey of benevolence!"
The wheels turned again. Amidst cheers of "Your Majesty is benevolent," the convoy slowly departed.
Sophia sat inside the warming carriage, listening to the hunters' regretful sighs outside the carriage, and issued a wail in her heart that only she could hear:
Red braised venison, charcoal grilled rabbit legs...
What exactly is This Queen persisting for! Those guys in Withered Willow Town better really be starving to death, otherwise This Queen is making a huge loss this time.
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