William was happier than ever after making peace with the newly appointed demon ruler, Malcolm. Results were all that mattered to him, not appearances or religion. His family's fortunes had never been better than in the past month.
With the death of many citizens, including the old harpy who used to run the inn, new opportunities had emerged for him and his wife.
To be fair, William worked twice or even thrice as hard as before, divided between the subsidized renovation crew, hunting parties, and managing his newly acquired inn – a small bribe from Malcolm for his loyalty.
Most citizens of Thornguard had accepted the change, taking the tax reduction and well-paid extra jobs, but few had strayed far from their usual ideologies. However, none were more loyal than William.
The look in his son's eyes when he envisioned sitting at the high table, the intoxicating feeling of importance, giving orders, and even making arrests, and the dream-like sensation of having a coffer full of silver, made William a fervent follower of Malcolm's discipline.
Since Malcolm wasn't particularly chatty, William had to interpret his actions. In the month or so he'd been around, Malcolm had made only three brief public speeches, mostly concerning daily life matters: who was allowed outside the walls, the prosecution of heathens, and armament distribution.
William had played a significant role in eradicating Elyria followers and exposing potential plotters, earning land privileges and tax exemptions. The city's day-to-day atmosphere was dense with unease; even those pretending nothing was amiss had a nagging feeling.
The blighted creatures were partly to blame. Some reported rashes and fevers, but William hadn't experienced any such issues. The simple-minded creatures had even begun to grow on him, especially after discovering they were once children.
As William contemplated the city, sudden movements of people running around gathering caught his attention, shortly after the chapel's bell rang for everyone to hear. It was the sign: Malcolm was about to make an announcement.
William went to the central plaza, slightly disappointed he couldn't get a spot in the front rows closer to the leader, as there was a certain aura of grandeur that appealed to him. He was happy to see others had also chosen to follow Malcolm's way, all neatly arranged and expectant.
A few moments later, Malcolm walked in, followed by a spear-wielding blighted. The less enthusiastic crowd that had gathered shivered at the sight of the implement of torture, the preferred method of execution for those who threatened the new regime. Nothing could persuade a reluctant party like watching rebels be consumed by nightmares publicly.
Malcolm cleared his throat and spoke loudly, "I'm proud to say that this city has grown scores thanks to everyone's good work. All buildings have been restored, and houses have been stacked upon houses. A basic plumbing and sewage system has been installed, and no citizen must now endure the fumes of their own waste."
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The crowd clapped and nodded in satisfaction. Even detractors inwardly confessed they were more than happy to enjoy what only the most important hubs of the kingdom had budgeted to construct. Malcolm's voice grew stern.
"But it hasn't been a paved way. Despite having reduced waste and improving living conditions, some people have been plotting behind my back. Schemes have been constructed to steal grain, and weapons have mysteriously disappeared from their stands." Silence.
"While the majority of the offenders have been apprehended, I have come to know who is in it for the benefits and who is loyal to Thornguard. You lot, get up here." Malcolm pointed at different citizens, some of whom William recognized as black sheep, third sons, and people too far down the family inheritance line.
Surprisingly, even widows who mourned the death of their husbands a few weeks ago were also on stage, and finally, the gnarled claw pointed at William too.
While he was known to be a traitor to the former rulers of the city, standing in front of practically all the population made him feel outed, as if his course of action wasn't the most natural and intuitive. He felt judgment from a thousand eyes – disappointment, bitterness. But looking around, he saw hundreds in the same position as him.
People who had also gained a lot from the redistributions and feared losing their newly gained status more than social isolation or heavenly judgment.
Malcolm spoke again, "These brave men and women, who embrace change and know what's best for their families, will be part of a special unit. From now on, you shall be known as Loyalists, and it will be your duty to defend the city from inside and outside threats."
The armorer presented William with a full set of glistering white leather armor, probably appropriated from the treasury, painted and adapted for his use. He received a crossbow entirely made of bronze instead of wood and iron with a strange curvature and a design he'd never seen before.
He also received a short sword for good measure. He couldn't be happier; the cost of this custom-made, life-saving equipment would be astronomical, and no ordinary layman would ever get their hands on anything like this. On top of all that, his position had been legitimized, and now he could walk around Thornguard with the full investiture of authority Malcolm had given him.
William felt tearing up and covered his face, but others weren't so shy, and joyful cries filled the plaza. He took courage and went forward to kneel in front of Malcolm, and soon all others followed his example.
"I swear on my son's life and my own, mighty King," William said, "that I shall serve you as faithfully for as long as I live. At first, I thought hell had sent you forth, but now I see that if heavens have an emissary, it has an iron fist and the shape of a lion!"
The others also swore loyalty, and after a bit more noise, the crowd dispersed. The Loyalists started making their rounds, bragging about their costly equipment to the peasants and bullying those who remained aligned with a king who had forgotten about them.
As William walked alongside his fellow Loyalists, he felt an overwhelming sense of pride and belonging. He knew that his decision to follow Malcolm had brought him more than just material wealth; it had given him a sense of purpose and power.
The sun was setting. Malcolm's action hadn't been arbitrary: he's been warned by the sentry when stirred dust was seen in the distance and now, atop the walls, he saw the lights of hundreds of torches coming closer. The ruler of this land has sent a contingent to get rid of him.