Chapter 159: Chapter 153: Uninvited Outsiders
Porcupine Territory Tavern.
Pushing open the door, the stench of sour apple ale, mingled with the sweat of farmers and soldiers, wafted through the air amidst the sound of drunken burps.
"I’m telling the truth! The castle’s mare laid an egg!" Big Beard, letting out a belch, widened his eyes, trying to prove he wasn’t lying.
Another man, cradling his cup, shot him down. "Weren’t you supposed to be guarding those tough slaves at the quarry? You don’t even know what’s going on in Maitian Village, so how would you know about the Lord’s business in the castle?"
"The brick kiln has been firing so many red bricks lately that I haven’t had to oversee the quarry in a long time," Big Beard said, shaking his head. He didn’t seem to mind the other man’s jab; he had bigger things to worry about.
Shifting in his chair to get comfortable, Big Beard said, "I was assigned to the construction crew. All I do every day is haul bricks, haul bricks, and haul bricks."
One can imagine how he felt, going from a slave overseer to a common brick hauler.
But he had no trade skills, so the only way for him to earn money was through manual labor.
He could either haul bricks or fire them at the kiln.
"What’s so wrong with hauling bricks?" Another man walked up and called out, "A mug of Sour Apple ale."
He dropped some coins on the table, looked at Big Beard, and asked, "If you hadn’t come back to haul bricks, would you even be able to afford a drink here?"
Big Beard nodded in agreement. "That’s true. It’s better than being stuck at that little quarry. At least here I can see women and have a drink."
Before Leech developed Porcupine Territory, he’d had to worry about his next meal. Now, less than a year later, he could afford to drink in a tavern. But all he could think about was how he’d gone from being a manager to being managed.
The drop in status was huge, and he was struggling to adapt. He needed to vent.
"So where did you hear about this egg?" the man asked curiously.
The comedy troupe had long since left, but the lives of the great figures in the castle remained the main topic of local gossip and speculation.
"I heard it yesterday when I went to the castle office to fill out some paperwork. The castle’s mare laid an egg."
Seeing that someone had finally brought the topic back around, Big Beard was very pleased. With a meaningful look, he lowered his voice. "Who knows what kind of monster will hatch from it."
"The Lord is a Divine Favored," someone nearby interjected.
Big Beard, annoyed at the interruption, glared at the man. "I’ve never heard of a horse laying an egg. It has to be a monster. We could all be in danger."
In truth, he wanted to say the horse was a monster and that they should all march to the castle, drag it out, and burn it to death.
But considering the Lord’s prestige in Porcupine Territory, he swallowed the words that had risen to his throat.
Big Beard would never admit that he was deliberately trying to make people think the worst just because he was bitter about being demoted from supervisor to brick hauler. ’He was just stating the facts!’
’As a commoner of Porcupine Territory, it’s only natural to worry about its safety, right?’
"That’s only due to your own ignorance," a relaxed voice drawled.
Big Beard turned to see who had spoken. It was a pair of strange, white-haired men wrapped in black robes.
He’d only ever seen white hair on elderly women, never on someone who looked so young. They looked like cursed monsters.
Their eyes held a terrifying aura. The moment their gaze fell upon him, Big Beard’s back was drenched in a cold sweat.
"If a Giant Dragon were to mate with a horse, it would lay an egg. Of course, the horse would most likely die of fright first." The young, white-haired man grinned at Big Beard’s terrified expression, then raised his mug and chugged its contents.
It was as if the terrifying glint in his eyes moments before had just been a fluke.
Big Beard didn’t dare argue. He’d already finished his drink, and the two white-haired men were making him extremely uncomfortable. He got up and left in a hurry.
Just as Big Beard was leaving, a few drunken farmers followed him out.
The two white-haired men in black robes were left alone; the other patrons subconsciously kept their distance. The pair seemed used to it and paid it no mind.
"*Hic!* Let’s go, Elo." The skinny one of the two stood up. As he did, someone noticed a Longsword under his black robe.
"This ale stinks," the sturdy, white-haired man called Elo said as he stood. "Iron Stone City is much better. Truly the best place to be—a paradise for eating, drinking, and merrymaking."
"Be glad we have something to drink at all," the skinny one said.
But Elo wasn’t so easily satisfied. "Once we’re done here, I’m never coming back to this godforsaken countryside. It’s a poor, remote backwater! They don’t even have a single brothel!"
The skinny man chuckled. "Heh heh, Elo. I think you just pissed everyone off."
The tavern fell silent. The farmers and craftsmen glared at the burly, white-haired man, Elo.
Elo sneered, "Hmph."
’He’d traveled all over and faced countless terrifying enemies. Was he supposed to be scared of a bunch of farmers who only knew how to hold a hoe?’
Beneath his black robe, Elo’s hand tightened around his sword hilt.
’He’d dealt with unruly peasants before. They always fell in line once a sword was drawn.’
But just then, the tavern door was pushed open.
A squad of soldiers in full lamellar armor walked in.
Elo relaxed his grip on the sword beneath his robe. Drawing it now would be extremely unwise.
The two men left the tavern.
"That talk of a golden carriage and Golden Soldiers... they must have meant Leopold."
"What would Leopold be doing in a backwater like this?"
"Something’s strange about this place," the skinny man said, his expression turning serious.
"Yeah," the burly Elo agreed with a nod.
They hadn’t gone far before they ran into another squad of soldiers, also heading for the tavern.
"Did you notice? The soldiers here are wearing full sets of lamellar armor."
’Full lamellar armor... Only the elite soldiers of high nobility wore that. Each one is like a walking pile of Jinri!’
They had seen dozens of soldiers on their way here, and every single one was wearing lamellar armor.
That meant the lord of this place had spent hundreds of Jinri just to arm his soldiers.
’Is this really a poor, backwater Baron Territory?’
The flat, wide roads were one thing; the roads in Iron Stone City were just as wide.
But what about all these red brick houses, all lined up so neatly?
’Or was their information wrong?’
Red brick houses! Even in Iron Stone City, people’s homes were built from misshapen rubble. Wasn’t it a bit too extravagant to use such uniform bricks to build ordinary houses?
"Their security is lax, though," the skinny white-haired man said with a slight smirk.
They had been strolling through the village in Porcupine Territory, and not a single soldier who saw them had come over to question them. It seemed the local lord’s administration was rather poor.
By a newly turned field ridge, a man was being held down and beaten by a group of others.
"Stop! Stop hitting me! I was wrong!" The man shrieked in pain, curling into a ball to protect his head. But his attackers were drunk and had no intention of stopping.
Elo said, "It’s that guy."
The man getting beaten was Big Beard, the one who’d started the rumor about the horse in the tavern. His attackers were the same drunks from the bar.
"Just a drunken brawl," the skinny white-haired man guessed.
"Stop! All of you, stop!" A group of people suddenly rushed toward them from a distance.
They wore simple leather armor and carried clubs, shouting as they ran.
The drunken brawlers reluctantly stopped, though one of them got in another vicious kick to Big Beard’s stomach.
"I said stop! Fighting in public? You’re all coming with us!"
"Sirs, you’re finally here!" Big Beard, his face bruised and swollen, wailed as he clung to the leg of the man who had just arrived.
The man frowned. "What’s going on here?"
"He insulted our Lord!" one of the drunks slurred. "We couldn’t stand for it, so we beat him up. Punish us if you want, we won’t accept it!"
The other drunks nodded. "That’s right, we won’t! We’ll go find Gelan!"
"If Quickblade finds out about this, he’ll give this guy a swift kick in the ass with his boot! You patrolmen dare to get in Quickblade’s way?"
"You insulted the Lord?" The patrolman kicked Big Beard’s hands away.
Big Beard shook his head frantically. "No, I didn’t! I swear I didn’t!"
The scruffy-bearded man started bawling his eyes out, wailing like an wronged little girl.
"Take them all away! We’ll sort this out back at the station."
The two men in black robes and with white hair watched the scene unfold in silence.
The skinny, white-haired man said, "They must be the territory’s patrol."
The burly, white-haired Elo nodded. "Mm."
"Their response time is impressive."
"...Mm."
Elo glanced at his companion, certain they had both arrived at the same conclusion.
"The people of Porcupine Territory are incredibly united and blindly worship their lord," the skinny man said. "The slightest disturbance and someone shows up immediately. And yet, from the moment we arrived, not a single person has questioned who we are. What does that tell you?"
They had assumed Porcupine Territory was so chaotic that two conspicuous, white-haired strangers wouldn’t cause a stir. They hadn’t even tried to hide their presence.
But the series of events they had just witnessed proved Porcupine Territory was completely different from what they had imagined.
With a grim expression, Elo voiced the answer that had formed in both their minds: "We’ve been under watch since the moment we set foot in Porcupine Territory!"
