"We're here."

As the horseshoes clattered on the cobblestone road, Aleksey knew without Gloev needing to remind him.

The small town of Laver, situated near High Castle, now lay across the road.

The Holy Alliance really did have many differences compared to elsewhere, even the towns weren't quite the same.

Unlike the common towns in Bear Castle Territory, where houses were made of mud and wood, and roads of sand and wooden planks.

The central roadway of Laver Town was paved with large, rough bricks, while the sidewalks were covered with tightly arranged small bricks.

As for the houses, they were constructed using large blocks of limestone and slate tiles, mostly two-story small buildings with gabled attic roofs.

In front of the houses, there would not only be small yards fenced in, but also iron mailboxes with locks and doors painted green with house numbers.

Housewives, clad in white aprons, hung sheets and clothes on drying rods, while children dressed in fine linen clothes ran back and forth among the garments.

Aleksey, as he moved forward, frequently saw men with upright postures.

As his gaze turned, those men would immediately notice him.

Seeing that it was Aleksey, just a child, they would put away their fierce looks and sometimes even tip their hats in greeting.

"Who are these people? Town guards?"

"No, many are retired soldiers returning home; the Holy Alliance usually arranges for them to have a residence in a small town."

For the Holy Alliance, over forty thousand standing troops are still too much of a financial burden.

Therefore, over the four years, the Holy Alliance gradually dismissed more than ten thousand soldiers, maintaining only half-strength for each battle group, except for the Imperial Guard.

Of course, if they were to encounter war in the future, they would be the first to be summoned back.

As for their livelihood issues, during times of no combat and non-training, they are supposed to learn how to read and write.

Moreover, literacy rate and level are related to the indicators and bonuses of the commanders of all corps levels.

If they don't learn in school, at most the teacher will punish them by making them stand or hitting their palms.

If they don't learn in the battle group, they will be promoted by the captain, corps commander, or even the military chaplain.

Even the battle commander promotes the corps commander, and the corps commander promotes the captain.

Once the old soldiers retire after three to five years, having a cultural level sufficient to work as a scribe or even an official is not a problem.

Of course, many are directly sent to the countryside to serve as Hundred Households Captain or Captain of the Church Protection Army.

"...And do you know? In our army at Fat Cow Castle, many of them are these retired soldiers and officers."

After listening to Gloev's explanation, Aleksey finally understood where his Shooting Army came from.

But he looked around and still was puzzled: "The Holy Alliance was established just six or seven years ago, but this town, these houses, this road doesn't seem like it could be built in six or seven years."

"They can use magic." Gloev succinctly replied.

It's not that Gloev was dismissing Aleksey, but that's truly the case.

Isn't mortar a type of magic? Isn't a spring crane a type of magic?

Even the knights coming over to carry packages were captured using magic-made weapons.

But to Aleksey, it sounded like Gloev was merely pacifying him, treating him like a child.

He pouted.

Noticing Aleksey's displeased demeanor, Gloev had to smile wryly: "It's not that I'm deceiving you. Once you go to the ry Court Barracks, you'll understand everything."

After all, being a loyal old minister, Aleksey couldn't keep a grudge against him; expressing some attitude was enough.

"Fine, you there, go ask for directions, ask where the market is."

The attendant responded and was about to leave but was stopped by Gloev.

"No need to ask for directions."

Tucking the flask into his chest to avoid being reported for drinking on the streets, Gloev pointed in a direction: "It's right there."

"You've been here before?"

"No."

Aleksey was curious: "Then how do you know it's there?"

"These Priestly Order towns of the Holy Alliance all look the same; I've seen many of them." Gloev said proudly.

Generally speaking, a Priestly Order's base will either build or renovate a town.

Unlike old towns, a Priestly Town often has two intersecting roads—Devotion Avenue and Victory Avenue.

The four corners of the crossroads where the two roads meet are the central area of this small town.

Pointing at the distant crossroads, Gloev identified the buildings for Aleksey one by one.

At the northeastern corner's apex stands the church, a clock tower with a pointed roof, paired with a basilica long corridor hall.

On either side of the church are three-story brick buildings, the Town Hall with a copper plaque, and a two-story primary school with a playground.

Though quite far away, you can still hear the sound of bright reading.

Across from the church stands the Night Watch Hall with its own dungeon, where several bruised and battered men are being escorted inside.

On both sides of the Night Watch Hall are a clinic painted in white and a towering walled armory.

The large area in the southwest corner, once the old marketplace, has now been converted into a warehouse, post office, Favor Market, and Believers' Square.

Leading the horses as Gloev pointed things out, the four quickly arrived at the market in Believers' Square.

Gloev actually quite enjoyed this kind of market; during his frequent travels to the Holy Alliance over four years, he would often stroll through these small town markets.

Contrary to the well-acquainted Gloev, Aleksei and his two guards found themselves a bit overwhelmed.

Since they arrived quite late, the first wave of the morning market's peak had already passed, and the pedestrian flow was nearly halved compared to the morning.

Therefore, Aleksei did not witness carriages loaded with cabbage scraping against others loaded with raw wool, nor did he see peat stacked like towers, or exhausted nags.

After all, the unit price of peat was low, so the more transported, the better.

Despite this, as Aleksei stepped onto the square's stone pavement, a strong gust carrying the aroma of oil and the scent of charcoal hit his face.

Under the clear transparent sky, patrolling watchers in black woolen clothes, farmers in vests and hoods, accountants with writing boards tucked under their arms...

Before his eyes could take everything in, his ears were greeted by the diverse sounds of vendors hawking their goods.

"The last three hundred pounds of peat, selling cheap! Two dinars, take it away!"

"Top-quality wool fabric here, have a look, one full yard of wool fabric, only three dinars!"

"Any need for fried bread? Any need for fried bread?"

"Saint's Grandson roared, and that devil dog Ginijis was scared shitless..."

"Keep an eye on this, everyone, this is a real blade, I place my hand here, don't blink, miracle... ah—"

"Doctor, doctor!"

This market is bustling, though save for the uncommon goods, it is not much different from typical markets.

Aleksei is no country bumpkin; after a round of exploration, his interest wanes a bit.

Glancing at the last sign reading "Favor Market," he steps forward intending to enter.

But before stepping in, Gloev grabs his arm: "Your Highness, it's noon, isn't it time for a meal? You haven't yet tried the unique fried bread here in High Castle Town?"

"Fried bread? What's that?" Aleksei's curiosity piqued once again.

Entering a wooden house with ventilation on both sides, they saw black greasy stains on the striped tarpaulin, which oozed oil when squeezed.

At the center of the wooden house, a cluster of briquettes fired up a big black pot filled with bubbling hot oil.

"What would you like to have, friend?"

"Twelve sticks of fried bread, eight soft-skinned pastries, four bowls of lamb soup, two plates of deboned meat, a plate of brown sugar with purple eggs, and a pot of spoiled sour plum juice..."

The attendant Knight stops Gloev, gesturing towards Aleksei: "...Here, you don't need to be so frugal; let's not have spoiled..."

"Hey, you don't understand, you'll know once you taste it." Pushing the attendant aside, Gloev continues ordering, "Get the stick bread, don't settle for some flimsy baguette."

"Look at you talking."

Soon, a wicker basket is set before Aleksei, filled with thin, long fried bread sticks the length of one's arm.

Initially soft bread turned golden and crisp from frying, rub two together, and crumbs shed.

"What an extravagance." Staring at the black oil in the large pot, the attendant couldn't help but sigh, "Using so much oil to fry things for sale, aren't they afraid of not making a profit?"

"How could they not, do you know the price of rapeseed oil in Shangruifo County? It might scare you if I tell you!"

"How much?"

"Less than two dinars, per pound!"

The accompanying Knight hadn't fully reacted, but Aleksei exclaimed in surprise: "So cheap, that's practically halved!"

Standing upright, Gloev pointed into the distance: "See that waterwheel? I just spotted it, an oil mill, specifically for pressing oils."

"Even if there's an oil mill nearby, the price shouldn't be this low, should it?"

"Well, that's what you don't know, Shangruifo County has plenty of oil fields."

During the two Thousand River Valley wars, they caused severe population reduction and village decline.

Especially in High Castle Town, large villages have only a dozen households, while small ones have three to five.

Ultimately, after evaluation, the local church leaders and County Governor concluded that the current population couldn't cultivate all remaining lands.

Thus, they concentrated the population in the river valley for easier cultivation and unified management to lessen administrative pressure.

As for the emptied, hard-to-farm lands, they temporarily used them to plant low-maintenance rapeseed and graze dairy cows.

This led to extremely low prices for milk, butter, and rapeseed oil in Shangruifo County, allowing even small restaurants to make fried foods.

Seeing Gloev holding the fried bread, unsure how to start, Gloev laughed.

"Don't know how to eat, right? Wiping his hands with a handkerchief, he picked up two fried bread sticks and a piece of soft-skinned pastry, "In Shangruifo County, how do you eat fried bread? Today I'll show you a mom-level tutorial."

Under Aleksei's curious gaze, Gloev shouted to the boss, "A bit of white meat wrap, remember, five at a time!"