Chapter 92.1: Weisshem Marketplace
Inspector Lowell's appearance indeed closely resembled that of a young nobility. However, whether he was Charlie Rex or not wasn't important to the Radiant Sun Church's white-robed priest.
What truly mattered was that the Nightmare Butcher sat less than two meters away from him. Not only could the priest see no traces of mental collapse, but the Nightmare Butcher also appeared alert and brimming with vitality. He could probably go on a sightseeing tour of the Radiant Sun Holy Land without any problems…
Between a rock and a hard place, the priest had no choice but to lower his hand.
When he did so, things became easier for Yang Qiu. He would be able to move freely within Indahl.
The matter of wanted posters of him circulating the world was a long time ago, and if it weren't for the unshakable Radiant Sun Church pestering him like an annoying pest, Yang Qiu would actually have been able to appear openly in many places. This was one of the perks of being a high-level spellcaster—far outliving those craving bounties by several generations.
Without his identity being exposed, a high-level spellcaster like Yang Qiu could conduct his activities in human cities easily… In less than an hour, he became a guest of the city lord of Indahl, Adra III.
Even this white-robed priest, with a mental strength of more than 1,600 based on Yang Qiu's established categorization and would be seen as a Lv 6 boss by players using "Identify," had been "convinced" by Yang Qiu's charisma. Adra III, whose mental strength was not even 30 and lower than the average player, was easy to persuade.
Yang Qiu presented a transaction list affixed with the city lord's seal. He claimed that Charlie Rex, a resident of the Rhine Kingdom, couldn't tolerate the brutal actions of Baron What's-His-Name of Weisshem, which constituted a desecrating Lady Gold Coin in the territory of the Rhine Kingdom and now asked the city lord of Indahl to support Charlie Rex's territorial war against the said baron; if Lord Adra III refused, he would accompany Charlie Rex to the imperial capital to seek nobles willing to support their cause.
The domain of Weisshem was also within the jurisdiction of the Indahl territory. While Baron What's-His-Name had recently caused City Lord Adra III some embarrassment, Lord Adra III had also benefited from the business in Weisshem, both openly and in secret.
Were it someone else presenting this "evidence" and threatening him, City Lord Adra III would have had this clueless individual restrained and severely punished. He would have that person sent to labor to the death at a coal mine in the mountains and only bring him back as a corpse to process his bones into wall ornaments.
But it was a high-level spellcaster that came knocking, along with a noble bastard that had the power to take over Weisshem in just one night, and merely a change of name on paperwork to make the change of ownership official… Adra III was at a disadvantage.
Were it only the latter, Adra III could still have managed the situation—he would simply have the imposter claiming to be Charlie Rex decapitated and have the city defense force dispatched to retake Weisshem. Adra III didn't believe that this imposter, who lacked the resources of a noble family, could raise a military force comparable to what the Bartalis family had built over several generations.
However, there was the additional appearance of a high-level spellcaster that added a twist. This was simply a sucker punch to Adra III…
The biggest shortcoming of the Bartalis family was their inability to train clan spellcasters.
Logically speaking, upstart nobility with over three generations would make an effort to collect talented children and young adults for training, spending decades in the process to nurture at least a couple of spellcasters for the family clan.
Many rural nobles in remote areas nurtured foster children, similar to those from long-established, deeply rooted, and flourishing large family clans with several centuries of heritage, and could even provide support to train high-level spellcasters.
However, it was a different case for the Bartalis family, who had only occupied the lordship of this region for only three generations.
The Bartalis family truly started their ascent a little over a century ago. When they acquired the Indahl territory with the help of Adra I, their family only held the title for several generations, and the places of power they could lay claim to were a few estates passed down from their forebears.
When Adra I took over Indahl, it was nowhere near as prosperous as it was today. Gangs of marauders were rampant in the Sorenson Mountains, striking every few years, and the local population couldn't save up much.
It was Adra III's great-grandfather and grandfather who toiled away, implementing taxes and raising troops until the city defense force was established. With that, the marauder gangs using Indahl as a free supply point were finally suppressed.
By the time of Adra III's father, Indahl had finally become a vital trade hub in the continent.
Adra III's father sent him to study in the royal city, hoping his son would find gifted but economically disadvantaged mage apprentices among the elite and the nation's finest talents.
However, Adra III was too caught up in the luxuries of the capital and didn't pay much heed to his father's expectations. Upon the unexpected death of his father and his urgent recall to take up the position, Adra III returned empty-handed. After taking over the position, he looked askance at the several foster children his father had "amassed" during his lifetime, and it was only because of advice from the old steward that Adra III didn't dismiss them outright…
In short, the Bartalis family didn't have any immediately available spellcasters. All they possessed were a few mage apprentices that would require decades of investment, probably at mage towers of others' territories. Perhaps it would only be another three generations after Adra III before any benefits could be reaped.
Adra III's fat face grimaced as he reluctantly accepted the "evidence."
I apologize, Baron What's-Your-Name. You've lost your own territory and your people created such a mess, letting such an important thing fall into someone else's hands. Consider yourself fortunate; I'm letting you off the hook because of your many years of offerings to me and my father!
While Yang Qiu, with poor Lowell in tow, deftly acquired the territory of Weisshem through a series of actions, elsewhere, Hal had a similarly disheartened look on his face as he led his fellow comrades owning four tricycles to the Weisshem marketplace.
Initially, these former Sorensen bandits thought that overseeing captives was the lowest "humiliation" they could receive. Little did they know that there was still room to go lower. That rascal Rex assigned them the task of overseeing captives to the undead and, as a result, these three former bandits were now dispatched as street vendors.
"We should have thought of a way to bring all our brothers out had we known earlier." Tuttle sighed deeply. Were it not for the fact their comrades were held hostage in Exile Town, they would have grabbed the merchandise and made a run for it.
Tuttle initially imagined that these goods would be sold to local merchants all at once. However, he never imagined that that bastard Rex would force them to handle the retailing on their own…
The marketplace in Weisshem was, in reality, nothing more than a relatively wide street situated in the western part of town. Forty years ago, before the expansion of Weisshem, this street, known as Martin Street, was the true commercial hub of the town. It had a broad, 12-meter-wide road, which could accommodate three carts side by side, where local residents set up their stalls.
During weekdays, between two and five in the afternoon, it was mainly dominated by vegetable vendors. Early in the morning, when the sun wasn't too harsh, to work the fields, farmers would bring their produce to sell in town while buying salt, black bread, cloth, and woven bags to take back with them.
On weekends, grocery traders from Indahl, farmers around the area, and people working in estates all congregated on this street. All manner of things, from cattle, horses, and pigs, to needles, thread, and all other commodities could be found on this street.
Of course, the red-light district had become Weisshem's local specialty, though Martin Street remained lively during certain times. After all, replenishment of daily necessities was needed, whether one was a town resident or from the countryside. Salt, soybean oil, and butter—these three essential items, especially—needed to be restocked weekly. Their prices were quite high, and even the townsfolk could only purchase small quantities but more frequently.
It wasn't a weekend today, so most of the people coming into town were farm folk. At around two in the afternoon, when the sun wasn't as scorching, farmers from nearby villages came to town in small groups, carrying baskets on their shoulders and back.
The prosperity of the red-light district, to some extent, also affected the lives of the neighboring villagers. On the one hand, local prices were influenced, and the money in the hands of the farm folk became increasingly insufficient. On the other hand, seasonal fruits, fresh vegetables, handwoven bamboo baskets, tools, and even wild fruits collected from the mountains, all had better sales now compared to before the emergence of the red-light district.
These farm folk, some carrying fresh vegetables or produce foraged from the mountains, traveled along the main path into town, happily discussing what to buy after selling their wares. Some brought scissors, sickles, and other tools from home, intending to have the town's craftsmen sharpen them.
Roughly a hundred meters away from the town gate, this bunch noticed quite a crowd there.
These people were either carrying their goods, wearing back baskets, or pushing wooden-wheeled hand carts—evidently, fellow farmers coming to sell their produce.
"Why are they blocking the entrance? Aren't they going in to do business?" a skinny farmer carrying a full back basket of mountain produce wondered aloud.
"Could they be collecting a toll at the town gate today?"
"Impossible. We haven't heard of a toll for coming to sell our stuff at the market all these years."
"Yeah, what will the people in town eat if they don't let us in to sell our produce?"
While confused, this bunch noticed someone struggling to make their way out of the tightly packed crowd. The person's basket was empty, and he appeared flustered and kept looking back as he pushed his way through.
Such a sight startled the bunch a hundred meters away, and they came to a standstill.
"Were his things taken without paying him?" The skinny farmer gasped.
"No, it can't be. There are so many people still gathered there. If someone takes the goods without paying, why haven't they left?" another farmer with a heavy load said nervously.
As if confirming the second farmer's speculation, the man who had emerged with an empty basket didn't immediately flee. Instead, he stopped at the edge of the crowd, turned back, and peered in…
The farmers that had just arrived exchanged puzzled looks.
Their village was neither very near nor far from town, and it took them over an hour in the scorching sun to reach Weisshem. Forgoing the day's trade and heading back home was something they were all very unwilling to do.
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