Ice Vapor Goddess

Chapter 10 Spesse City
Behold, I have made you a fortified city, an iron pillar, and a bronze wall.

—Jeremiah
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Speyside was once an ordinary northern town, ten miles from the nearest coastline, missing out on the Age of Exploration and lacking the vast plains that brought thriving agriculture.

Its specialties were pasture and coal mines, but after large-scale coal mining and the establishment of factories, the pasture also declined.

On the way, Sam and Celion, whose injuries had healed somewhat, started talking about Speyside, recounting how it used to be covered with cattle and sheep, hardy rye and white clover, coal miners, and smoke that filled the sky.

He was from Spesce and had wandered south due to famine, where he settled down and became a carpenter. Because he knew the conductor of the Northern Holy See train, the conductor secretly gave him a ride.

As he spoke of his memories of Spesse, the young soldier beside him kept glancing at him, seemingly wanting to say something but holding back.

Finally, the tyrannical blizzard suddenly subsided at a certain moment, and a huge black shadow appeared nearby. The snowflakes flew haphazardly and collided with the black steel before falling to the ground, helplessly gazing at the only heretic on the snow.

The majestic city walls and buildings came into view, and Sam rubbed his eyes for a long time, unable to believe that this was the Speyside he remembered.

The massive, dark gray granite blocks formed a 20-meter-high, sloping rock wall, like an insurmountable chasm. Brass pipes and decorations were scattered on it, and white gas lamps, shining with intense light, dotted the middle section of the wall like stars. A huge steel gate stood not far in front of them.

This may be the last high-walled fortress of modern times—as early as the last century, the use of artillery had already turned newly built castles into bastions with earthen ramparts and low walls, which facilitated crossfire and penetrating fire. However, the designers of the Speyside Refuge did not know what they were about to face.

So, following the principle that "bigger is better and thicker is more beautiful," they built an enlarged version of the bastion, preserving its slope and constructing massive high walls.

At this time, many villagers from the surrounding area were also near the gate. They were wearing tattered winter clothes and leading their livestock, gathering at the gate like refugees.

Four guards stood at the gate checking the villagers coming and going, but the process was slow, resulting in a large crowd crowding the gate.

Siren was squeezed into the crowd, his dark purple bishop's robes hidden by his coat, and his shepherd's staff was no different from a shepherd's cane, so no one recognized him.

"Don't push! Don't push! Everyone has to be checked before they can go in!" the guard shouted.

"Please, sir, please have mercy... my child is too young and will freeze to death..." A woman knelt on the ground, kowtowing repeatedly, holding a little girl's hand in her right hand.

"Get to the back of the line! Don't sneak into the city!" The guard kicked her.

It is understandable that one must be checked and screened before entering the city, but Xilun clearly saw a farmer leading two pigs and a cow secretly slip a silver shilling to a guard and enter the city directly, while others had to undergo a long and arduous inspection and questioning.

Xilun's face darkened. The sky was getting dark, and the outside temperature had reached -18°C, with a wind chill of around -30°C. Many civilians didn't even have a winter coat stuffed with cotton or wool, and the tears were patched up with linen.

He grabbed the sled, pulled it, and went inside.

"Hey you! Stop right there! Submit for inspection!" the guard immediately shouted.

Siren stopped and took out a gold pound from his pocket, handing it to the guard.

Under the golden light, the guards, their faces filled with shock and greed, reached out their hands towards it.

"Ah!!!" But the moment he touched the gold pound, he screamed in agony. The gold pound was as hot as a red-hot iron, and Xilun pressed it directly into his palm.

The guard knelt down, clutching his right hand. In the palm of his hand, the image of Queen Victoria branded on his hand was clearly visible, surrounded by a ring.

"Halt!" The other three guards, startled by the sudden change, immediately drew their three rifles and aimed them at Xilun.

Xilun coldly looked at the guard kneeling on the ground, clutching his hand: "Will you accept even a bribe from God?"

The shepherd's staff was planted in the snow, the sacred fire burned brightly, and the gold pound fell on the snow, immediately making a "hissing" sound, the scalding gold melting the surrounding snow.

“You…” The guard wanted to say something, but Xilun had already turned his back to them.

"People suffering from the cold!" he cried out, "Come with me into the city!"

Three guns were pointed at his back, but no one dared to fire. Xiren turned around and walked straight into the city. Kyle and Logan immediately ran over to protect him on both sides, while Aldridge and Matilda pulled the sled and followed closely behind. The people behind them roared to follow.

This was his first time facing a gun barrel. Was he afraid? Of course he was. Although Xilun secretly chanted the spell "Stop," he wasn't sure if the transparent wall could stop the bullets.

But since you have extraordinary power, you should do things that ordinary people dare not do. Otherwise, what is the point of being extraordinary? To oppress others?
In his previous life as a psychoanalyst, he had seen too many cases of depression, anxiety, hysteria... Some had their desire for life drained by their work, while others had been disciplined into obsessive-compulsive disorder and phobias by feudal remnants.

He might be able to cure one, two, or three cases, but the capitalist structure and feudal remnants are structurally producing these patients!

Whenever a patient painfully asks, "What do I need to do to be satisfied?", that accusation against the social Other makes Xilun feel deeply powerless. It's not the patient's problem, it's society's problem, but he is powerless to do anything about it. He can only try again and again to make the patient and his symptoms coexist.

Now he finally had the power—though not much—but he chose to fulfill his previously suppressed desires.

Once the root cause of the problem is addressed, there will be no more patients.

The crowd surged into the doorway like a river, their dark, tattered clothes forming a black torrent, while golden holy light shone ahead, and a raised shepherd's staff guided the flock.

Mathilde smiled as she looked at him. From her perspective, Siron's left hand, which was behind his back, was trembling, but his right hand was as steady as a rock. She murmured in a voice only she could hear, "Go, don't be afraid."
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"Really? You're not dead." The man stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.

This was a man weathered by life's hardships, his posture upright like an oak tree even when seated. His silver-gray hair was combed back, revealing a weathered and scarred face, with deep-set eyes filled with shadows.

He wore a black military uniform with gold epaulettes, a sword, a belt, and medals. A deep red sash was draped across his upper body, and a crown symbol indicated his identity.

That was the governor of Speyer, an imperial general appointed by the Queen herself.

Ryan Hoffman.

(End of this chapter)