Chapter 181: Crossroads (3)
As is typically the case with human-built cities, the Jayviden’s capital, Brasilt, had majestic walls and intimidating gates.
“Brasilt is an older city. They believe it was formerly the capital of a minor kingdom. That is true for the majority of the remaining significant cities. They were all ancient kingdoms at one point.”
Clack, clack, the sound of horseshoes on cobblestones. As they joined the long procession leading to the city gate, their speed naturally slowed.
As they moved along the line, Weizen volunteered to tell them about the city, where he had spent many years working on commissions.
Because they still had a long way to go before reaching the city gate, Russell and his comrades permitted him to speak while they rode in silence.
“First and foremost, it’s a city under the Empire’s rule, but it’s also close enough to the kingdom that we could cross that Gray Valley over there and be right in the kingdom. Brasilt is known for its city walls.
He raised the hand that had been lying on his waist and pointed to the city wall. The wall appeared to be solidly built, made of sturdy-looking rock.
“Legend has it that long, long ago, the lord of this city saved a wizard, and the wizard built the wall as a reward.”
“How long ago is it?”
“So, the stories differ. Some claim 200 years ago, while others believe more than a thousand.”
As Weizen told him about the tale around the city’s walls, Russell gazed around at the sides of the line.
On the other side of the Purium River, there was a marshy swamp and thick woodland. It was pretty far away, but Russell’s vision was sharp enough to see it well.
When he looked away from the marshland, his eyes were drawn to the large, slowly flowing river ahead, which reflected the sunlight.
On the lake, where the sunshine reflected, he could see fishing boats of all sizes dragging in their nets full of fish.
Despite the fact that it was late autumn, the bright sunlight and occasional breeze created a serene and quiet atmosphere in front of Russell’s eyes.
However, when he changed his focus slightly and gazed up at the sky, he saw something unusual.
It was a narrow, thread-like crack. A crack appeared before Russell’s eyes as he fought the tree monster from another realm.
The crack that appeared to stretch across the sky that surrounded this globe had grown somewhat longer than previously.
Russell couldn’t see much beyond the crack because it hadn’t yet opened.
“. . . . . .That’s why Brasilt serves as a bridgehead, with one foot in both the Empire and the Kingdom. That is why there are so many people arriving and departing. Naturally, it is home to a diverse range of races and nationalities. There are Nebron people in the south, as well as Eshir people on the other continent. It’s also a hotspot for trouble, so. . .”
“What do you mean by nationalities?”
The inquiry came from Aellasis. Weizen pointed to his own face.
“People that appear similar but have distinct facial features or skin tones. The Nebron people of the south have dark skin. The Eshir people of the opposite continent had yellow skin. Their features are also subtly different.
“Yellow and black skin? How is that possible?”
“Uhm. . . I truly don’t know. Is it because they are heathens?
When Weizen scratched his head and didn’t have an answer, Calia spoke up.
“The color of your skin or your appearance should not influence which god you follow. It’s probably just because they live in different areas. There were people like that in my time.”
Weizen tilted his head.
“You keep saying ‘in my time,’ or ‘I remember,’ since the beginning. Are you perhaps older than you look?”
“. . . . . .”
Calia went silent, and Russell chuckled.
“Don’t mind her; just tell us what you were talking about. So?”
“Huh? Oh, right. Where was I?”
“You were saying that there’s a lot of trouble.”
“Ah, yes. Brasilt is not a city with good security. Because they do not have a strong standing army, criminal organizations that operate in the back alleys enjoy essentially free reign.
The count merely sees his area or city as a source of income. As a result, powerful thugs and mercenaries frequently organize their own guilds or groups to collect protection money. People die left and right, but no one notices, and the bodies are gone the next day. It was an interesting environment in so many ways.”
Russell swiped his finger at Weizen just as he was ready to reminisce further.
“Tell me about the count.”
“Count Jayviden? He’s an old man with lofty goals for the center.”
“The center? You mean the Empire?”
“That’s correct. Brasilt is a prosperous city, but it is also physically away from the center and not directly on the front lines, thus it hasn’t had good influence.”
“You’re saying that’s different now?”
Weizen nodded and proceeded.
“That’s correct. I heard that his father’s efforts have finally yielded results for the current count Jayviden. Apparently, the prince initiated contact. He has become his patron. I’m not sure how things are going today, though.”
“Can you find out?”
“It shouldn’t be too hard, but. . .”
“But?”
“. . .never mind. I was just about to announce that I was going to go visit some of my favorite sites, but. . .
Russell ignored Weizen’s mumbling and glanced ahead.
The slow-moving queue was steadily shrinking as the merchants at the front finished their inspections and proceeded through the gate. The troops manning and examining the gate made a point of peering into the covered wagons and carriages before waving them through.
The gatekeeper, who had received a silver piece in secret from the merchant who had just passed through, turned his attention to those in line behind him.
The gatekeeper, sporting an outstanding mustache, raised his head and scanned Russell’s group. Russell returned his gaze as he examined them.
He was a man dressed in a combination of leather and chainmail armor studded with iron rivets, with a steel helmet on his belt. Unlike the other soldiers, his helmet’s visor was T-shaped, protecting his eyes and nose, indicating that he was slightly higher in rank.
The gatekeeper, with the bushy mustache behind his nose, approached them and asked:
“Where are you all from?”
“Beyond the valley.”
“That much is obvious just by looking at the direction you came from.”
The gatekeeper’s gaze moved over Russell, Calia, Aellasis, and Weizen in turn. Unlike the other soldiers who had gaped at Calia and Aellasis, the gatekeeper’s gaze was cold and calculated.
“What is your purpose here?”
“Sightseeing.”
Russell’s response was as sharp as the inquiry. The city gatekeeper was not a particularly short man, but Russell rode a large black horse and was himself quite tall.
The gatekeeper had to tilt his head back to make eye contact with Russell. With a heavy frown, he stated,
“What is the relationship between you and the people behind you?”
“They are my companions.”
“Are you mercenaries?”
“. . . . . .”
Weizen, who had been watching the talk from behind, approached with a grimace.
“What’s with all these questions? What is the big deal?”
“Pay the toll.”
“What?”
“We don’t let anyone into our city gates. You have to pay to use the city. Then we’ll let you in.
“Well, I’ll be. . .Who do you think you are, little. . . . . .”
As Weizen’s eyes flared and he lost his rage, the air around them became thicker. The soldiers behind the gatekeeper stepped forward, their faces tight and their spears ready.
In this difficult circumstance, Russell was the first to move.
“How much?”
“. . . . . .Excuse me?”
“How much do I have to pay?”
The gatekeeper swallowed and spoke in a shaky tone.
“One silver coin per person. . . . . .”
“Here you go.”
Russell removed four silver pieces from his pocket and tossed them in the gatekeeper’s direction. The gatekeeper yelled and grabbed the coins, hugging them to his chest.
Two of the coins he failed to capture rolled to the ground, making a clinking sound. Russell watched the gatekeeper hurriedly pick up the silver coins and urge Kry through the city gate.
The soldiers with spears let them pass without saying anything. Weizen joined Russell’s side, appearing perplexed.
“So, you just gave him what he asked for? Are you rich or what?”
“Richer than you realize. Let’s go inside without making a scene.”
Russell still had a lot of unused jewelry and gold coins. It wasn’t enough to lighten his purse with just a few silver coins.
The streets within the city gate were complicated and boisterous. Tall and short buildings stood randomly, obstructing the vista, while vast and narrow lanes sprung out in all directions.
“It is a bustling city. It’s not the same as the city where I used to live.
Calia broke the silence to offer her thoughts about the city. As she said, Brasilt was vibrant, making it difficult to imagine that the country was in the midst of a civil war.
They had arrived through the east gate, and the first thing they saw after passing through was a shopping zone and a market strip.
To avoid the harsh glare, the merchants who had taken over the marketplace had set up tents and stalls with long poles they carried.
The stalls were nicely placed with newly caught fish and freshly butchered raw meat, surrounded by flies attracted to the smell, cats waiting for the merchants to look away, and youngsters attempting to pat the cats.
In the meantime, there were numerous street vendors selling skewers of meat or fish.
There were even drunks sitting on the ground, drinking booze from tin cups, and armored mercenaries strolling around, calmly eating skewers.
Brasilt’s market street was a chaotic environment filled with loud voices, music, cries to catch thieves, and hurried footsteps.
Aellasis’ pale blue eyes surveyed the situation. Suddenly, her gaze was drawn to people who stood out from the crowd.
They had a really dark or somewhat yellow complexion, which she had never seen before.
“Wow, their skin hues are so varied. It’s amazing.
“The inn district is slightly further down. Should we stop at an inn first?”
“It would be easier if we secured a place to stay.”
Russell dismounted Kry and gave over the reins to Calia. Weizen dismounted from his horse as he made the sign. Russell spoke to Calia,
“Take Aella with you and secure an inn room first.”
“What about you?”
“I have some business to do with this guy. I will join you for dinner.”
“I understand. I will contact you once we have found an inn.”
Russell didn’t inquire about how she planned to reach him. She was so adaptable that she could communicate with him through magic or any other means.
“Show me the way.”
“Wait, what do you mean ‘show me the way’ all of a sudden?”
“The person who commissioned you for this assignment is count Jayviden, but he did not come to meet you in person, right? There must have been an intermediate. There must also be a location where he instructed you to go to receive your payment once the job was performed successfully.
Weizen whistled with astonishment.
“Oh, you’re actually pretty smart—Kuek!”
“Nonsense.”
“Ouch. Damn it. He’s only a kid, yet. . .”
Weizen stepped forward, his mouth hanging open. Russell trailed, following him.
The street was alive with the sounds of merchants setting up their tents or stalls, as well as the voices of city dwellers bargaining over prices.
Almost all of them were humans; however, elves were occasionally seen. Surprisingly, the majority of these elves were slaves.
The Hyperion Empire vigorously promoted the slave trade. Perhaps they believed it was more effective to keep offenders alive and put them to work rather than kill them.
Russell’s gaze was drawn to a group of slaves marching someplace, their ankles and wrists bound by manacles and chains. One of them was an elf.
For some reason, he was wearing a large cowl that obscured his face, but Russell recognized him as a dark elf.
And the red glow of her pupils from under the hood.
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