Back in the castle hall, Roland sat down at the head of the table, surveying the subjects below.
In memory, the Fourth Prince only exercised his judicial authority once when he first arrived in Border Town. After falling out with Noble and finding life increasingly difficult, he handed over all his responsibilities to Barov and never intervened again.
When everyone was present, Roland declared the trial commenced.
First, each party explains their reasons, then he poses questions. With the Nightingale's covert assistance, he no longer needs to discern who is deliberately lying or insincere, nor does he require the meticulousness of a Godless elementary school student's heart to determine responsibility—making the task both effortless and straightforward.
The truth of the matter was soon revealed.
Koya Havis, resentful of his stripped Knight title and fed up with the town hall's bureaucratic paperwork, vented his frustrations on the fugitives. Seizing the opportunity to distribute wheat porridge, he deliberately charged them while sowing discord between factions. He claimed the shortage of wheat was due to serfs failing to pay their full grain quotas, which made free distribution impossible.
In fact, Koya had been collecting fees for days straight for the porridge. Wearing his conspicuous town hall uniform, he intimidated the refugees with threats of retaliation, silencing most of them and emboldening him further. It wasn't until today that a refugee named Vaid stepped forward to protest, sparking a commotion that finally exposed the whole affair.
Roland breathed a sigh of relief when he learned the situation.
An organization in its growth phase should be dynamic and full of vitality. While corruption and rigidity may inevitably emerge after stabilization, these issues typically manifest only after the Graycastle unification. If such problems arise during the initial stage, the organization is doomed to fail.
It now appears that the incident was solely a personal act by Coya Harvey, without implicating other municipal officials. Moreover, the matter was limited to extortion of money, not the more concerning issue of collaborating with serfs for grain resale and private sales.
Admittedly, he bore some responsibility for this. When the city hall was short-staffed, he hastily assigned Knight's entire team to Barov without proper vetting or training, merely giving a brief warning. As it turned out, not everyone could accept the job without complaint or cope with the psychological shift from Knight to civilian status.
Roland summoned Barov to his side and whispered, "How would the Lord typically handle such a situation?" "Your Highness," Barov replied respectfully, "there are two possible outcomes. If the offender is a Noble, surrendering a few golden dragons may spare them punishment. However, attacks on Nobles are punishable by penalties ranging from hand amputation to flogging." "But Koya is no longer a Noble," Prince shrugged. "I stripped him of his title." "Indeed, Your Highness. The Lord's discretion then governs the punishment." "No certainty?" Barov shook his head.
He furrowed his brow, his mood dictating his actions. The underlying message was that he couldn't care less about how he treated the common folk—they weren't even considered 'people' worthy of respect in Noble's eyes.
"Besides punishments like hand and foot severing, whipping, and nail removal, are there any more common ones? Like imprisonment?" "Imprisonment?" Barov paused. "You mean just locking them up? That's not a punishment. A prison is only a temporary holding place—prisoners will eventually be brought out for trial. If they stay locked up indefinitely, you'd have to provide food for them. Some might even see that as a reward." "Well, it seems fixed-term imprisonment, commonly used in later times, doesn't apply here," Roland mused. After a moment's thought, he decided to follow Graycastle's rules. Standing up, he scanned the hall. "I now pronounce the verdict." "Koya Havis, for dereliction of duty and extortion of fugitives, is hereby dismissed from all positions in the town hall. He is exiled to mine labor for ten years and fined three times the extortion amount." "Vid, for attacking town hall staff first, is sentenced to ten lashes." "Other fugitives and serfs involved in the brawl shall be fined two silver wolves or five lashes." "Continued free distribution of porridge. All previously extorted funds shall be refunded." He turned to the town hall steward. "You shall enforce these rulings and announce the results to the temporary residents." "Understood, Your Highness," Barov bowed.
Back in the office, Roland leaned back in his chair and stretched, then felt hands resting on his shoulders, gently massaging him.
He closes his eyes and enjoys the moment of leisure.
This incident made Roland realize that as the population grew steadily, the city hall's authority expanded rapidly, and internal oversight issues might have reached a point where they needed to be addressed.
However, he opposed establishing an institution akin to a prosecutor's office and was even more reluctant to pursue judicial independence in this era. The former would not only require a large number of literate personnel but also risk becoming a political system prone to mutual attacks and buck-passing, thereby hindering policy implementation and execution. The latter would further undermine Lord's authority in disguise. Powers such as lawmaking, legal interpretation, and adjudication should remain firmly in his own hands.
He needs a simple and effective system that can supervise the organization without too many people.
Roland held the hand on his shoulder.
The Nightingale lifted the veil of mystery, took Prince's hand, and sat back down at the table, tilting her head in inquiry. Her slender legs swayed gracefully along the edge of the table, the high-top deer-skin shoes and fitted leather trousers accentuating her perfect curves.
Roland cleared his throat twice. "I'm establishing a new department to oversee the City Hall and apprehend individuals or groups that might destabilize the Western Frontier. This unit will report solely to me, completely independent of the City Hall and the First Army," he stated clearly. "I've tentatively named it the Western Frontier Security Bureau, and I'd like you to head it." "Me?" She blinked.
"Exactly, only you can tell the difference between truth and deception. Any trickery is meaningless to you," Roland nodded. "How about this? If you're willing, I could offer you an afternoon tea with ice cream in winter, and..." Nightingale gently pinched his hand. "I'd agree to anything you want—even without saying it." "..." Roland suddenly felt a bit embarrassed.
She smiled, breaking the silence. "But what should I do?" "Well, the oversight part is straightforward," Prince adjusted his tone. "I'll set up a tip box at the Castle District entrance. You just need to verify the letters inside." The most efficient solution was to mobilize public oversight and let the city hall self-regulate, similar to how they had captured the spy infiltrating Border Town during the previous year's Evil Month.
The drawback of this method in later generations lies in the substantial effort required to verify both the reported individuals and the whistleblowers themselves, coupled with the risks of false or erroneous reports, not to mention deliberate defamation. These limitations are completely absent in the Nightingale system, where information verification becomes effortless through face-to-face inquiries—accurate reports are rewarded, while false accusations face penalties. With these two principles in place, the reporting system is bound to be highly efficient.
As for maintaining stability in the western frontier and eliminating threats and hidden dangers, it functions more like an internal intelligence system. I will gradually expand your team until you can oversee the entire western frontier.