Chapter 192: A Fish—A Really Big Fish

As the first rays of morning sunlight stretched across the land, Pea was already up and about.

Her first task of the day was to fetch water from the small square at the corner of Knight Street.

Knight Street was one of the earliest developed districts in the territory. It was said to have once been the soldiers’ original encampment during the initial settlement—a stretch of orderly military tents and several supply depots. But half a year later, two neat rows of sturdy brick houses had replaced the tents, and at the street’s end lay a spacious plaza.

Most of the soldiers with families lived here. On one side of the street was the new barracks; on the other, the lord’s manor and the offices of key departments. Knight Street thus formed the innermost line of defense for the Cecil territory.

Living here seemed to be the dream of many young people in the land.

It meant a respectable status, the honor of donning enchanted armor, wielding the legendary and powerful thermal ray guns, and the right to elevate one’s family into the ranks of “citizens.”

Pea had arrived halfway through the brick house construction project. She had witnessed firsthand how the workers dismantled the tents and wooden shacks with astonishing efficiency, then built solid brick homes, each outfitted with magically powered crystal lamps at the doorways. The street was now brighter and more vibrant than even the wealthiest district in Tansang Town. She had moved in with her foster father—Byron, the territory’s chief knight—into one of the first completed houses. Now, she was known as the “Mute Young Lady” of Knight Street, the chief knight’s daughter.

But for Pea, these changes in her life hadn’t altered much—at least, no one could quite tell what was going on inside her silent mind. She couldn’t speak, and her silence often invited baseless speculation. So she had learned to keep to herself, quietly doing her chores and following instructions without asking questions or trying to communicate. That way, she avoided trouble. This was the wisdom she had accumulated over the years, even after moving to a strange new place and settling into a solid, big house.

Still, the longer she lived here, the more she realized how different this place was from what she had known before.

Closing the door behind her, Pea carried her bucket down the street toward the square. On either side stood neat two-story brick houses, blending the classical Ansu style with the practical design favored by the Duke of Cecil. Such homes were rare elsewhere—at least, no other place’s houses were so lavish as to have crystal lamps embedded in every front door. The streets between the houses were almost empty of men; only women were out, working and chatting in front of their homes.

Most of the men on Knight Street were soldiers of the Cecil territory. Even those who weren’t soldiers worked in factories. The soldiers spent most of their time at the barracks or on duty at various posts, while the workers were out during the day. So at this hour, the streets were mostly filled with women.

Mrs. Marlin, who was drying fish at her doorstep, spotted Pea. This plump lady was one of the few lucky survivors from the old Cecil territory. Her husband was a veteran soldier, and she herself held considerable respect in the neighborhood. Seeing Pea with her bucket, Mrs. Marlin called out loudly, “Pea, off to fetch water? Need a hand?”

This was one of the things that set Cecil apart from other towns: people actually helped each other.

Pea made a soft “ah-ah” sound and shook her head to indicate she could manage on her own.

“What a good girl,” Mrs. Marlin said, clearly fond of chatting—so much so that she could talk at length even with a mute. “Has Knight Byron come back yet? Or is he out again?”

Pea hesitated, unsure how to answer such a complicated question, and simply shook her head apologetically.

Mrs. Marlin didn’t seem to mind the lack of an answer and went on, “I heard he’s exploring ruins in the mountains. My husband went with him once but never told me a thing when he came back. Men and their secrets, huh… Pea, are you going to the castle to see Miss Betty later?”

Though the Duke of Cecil hadn’t built a traditional “castle,” everyone still called the lord’s residence the castle. In their simple minds, a lord’s home had to be a castle.

Mentioning Betty finally brought a smile to Pea’s face, and she nodded happily.

Another thing that made Cecil different: even the chief maid in the lord’s castle was approachable. Betty had even taken Pea on a tour of the territory when she first arrived and shared some of the lord’s candy with her.

Though, it seemed the lord only had that one maid…

Mrs. Marlin rambled on about everything—from the weather since winter began, to the noisy construction sites, to the strange machines, and the unusually good harvest this year. Luckily, she remembered Pea had to fetch water, so after a brief tangent about how big the Viscount Rebecca’s fireball spell could get, she stopped abruptly. “Ah, I can’t stop talking—go fetch your water! Come back and have dinner at my place!”

Pea bowed slightly to Mrs. Marlin and then hurried toward the square with her bucket.

Along the way, many people greeted her by name—mostly just “Pea,” though a few called her “Byron’s girl” or “Miss Kirk,” after Byron Kirk’s surname. Pea responded to every greeting with care, and a faint, light smile gradually appeared on her face.

Another thing that set Cecil apart: people here called her by her name, not “the mute” or “the useless one.”

At first, Pea thought this was because of her status—having a foster father who was the chief knight meant people had to show respect to a little mute girl. But soon she realized this attitude was widespread throughout the territory, between everyone.

Later, she heard from her foster father a saying from the Duke of Cecil: “Most bad habits and customs stem from hunger. When people have enough to eat, they begin to think about morality. It’s not absolute, but it’s true in most cases.”

Pea didn’t fully understand the lord’s wisdom yet, but she sensed it made sense. When she was hungry, she had stolen small things and once got whipped by the sheriff for stealing a loaf of bread. The sheriff even publicly declared she had a “born, bloodline-born thieving nature.” But now, when she found something that wasn’t hers, her first instinct was to hand it over to the patrolling soldiers.

She trusted those soldiers wouldn’t keep what she gave them—her foster father had told her many times how strictly the lord managed the army, and she trusted him.

Pea reached the square. It was quiet at the moment. Across the plaza, a construction site was preparing to start work on a new residential area. The last group of homeless people who had arrived after the fog month were moving materials and distributing tools under the watchful eyes of soldiers and supervisors. Their faces showed confusion and numbness, as if they didn’t quite understand why work continued through winter. But Pea knew they would soon be bustling with energy—once they understood the “Cecil housing system” the soldiers read aloud, and realized they were building the homes they would live in.

Pea set her bucket beside the well in the center of the square. The well’s water came directly from the Whitewater River. Though the lord had mentioned something about “indoor water supply,” no one really understood what that meant. Everyone in the district still drew water from this well, which Pea thought was already very convenient.

She placed her bucket down, then turned the well’s crank to lower the wooden bucket tied to the rope—

A strange “clang” echoed from the well. Pea froze for a moment but then heard the usual splash of the bucket hitting the water and relaxed.

Maybe it had just bumped against the well wall?

She grabbed the crank handle with both hands and pushed hard to reel the bucket up.

But it didn’t budge.

Pea tilted her head, tried again, but still nothing.

Confused, she leaned over the well’s edge and peered inside, holding onto the crank’s frame for support. The well was pitch black; she couldn’t see a thing.

Just then, a voice came from beside her: “Isn’t this Byron’s girl? What’s wrong?”

Pea turned to see a familiar carpenter passing by, accompanied by two apprentices. They had noticed her peering into the well and came over to ask.

“Ah—ah-ah!” Pea made her usual indistinct sounds and gestured at the well’s mouth, indicating something was stuck with the bucket inside. The carpenter and his apprentices exchanged looks and quickly understood.

“Stand back. We’ll help you get the bucket up.”

Pea obediently stepped aside and watched as the three men gripped the handle and strained to turn it. The sturdy iron and hardwood crank creaked and groaned, as if something heavy was hanging on the rope. But finally, the rope began to rise.

“It’s coming up! Don’t let go now!”

The carpenter shouted. Just as he spoke, a sudden rush of water erupted from the well.

Splash!

A figure burst forth, water spraying everywhere. Pea caught a glimpse of a human upper body—and a fish’s tail.

Her eyes went wide in disbelief.

This was another thing that set Cecil apart: the well here could spit out fish. And not just any fish—a really big one…

(End of chapter)