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.
After some hesitation and deliberation, this group decided to approach and assess the situation. It was broad daylight, and there were so many people at the town gate. If there really was someone taking their things without paying, wouldn't all the people scatter? And with so many people, couldn't the transgressor be detained?
This group nervously covered the last hundred meters and pushed their way through the layers of the crowd. Before they could inquire about the situation, they heard a deep, somewhat impatient male voice from within, "16 kilograms of cabbage, one copper coin per pound. Isn't that 32 copper coins? Three 10 copper coins and two 1 copper coins, can't you count?"
"Plus this 5.5 kilogram pumpkin, that's 36 copper coins!"
"Since when are 2 kilograms of pumpkin one copper coin? I can get 3 kilograms for that as well! Don't complicate things. If you aren't happy, take your produce to the market yourself. We won't accept it here!"
"Enough green peppers! No more green peppers!"
"Take the tomatoes over there to be weighed!"
"We don't need any more vegetables! We have enough!"
This loud male voice sounded extremely rude as if he wanted to hit someone… but the farmers that just arrived let out a sigh of relief.
Some bosses in the town would occasionally purchase produce at the town gate, and farmers did prefer selling to these well-off buyers. Despite their discourteous and rough manners, they didn't nitpick, paid promptly, and didn't haggle over a few leaves of vegetables like some of the townsfolk did.
Farmers who brought other varieties of produce joined the crowd at the town gate. Some smarter ones even squeezed through the crowd despite the people around them complaining.
The thin farmer carrying a basket of mountain goods worked his way through, much to the annoyance of the others. But when he reached the front, he was bewildered.
The bulk purchase bosses weren't blocking the gate; they were conducting their transactions at one side of the town gate, leaving a large open space.
The farm folk from miles around crowding around the town gate were unwilling to enter via this open space. The reason being that in the midst of these bulk purchasers were actual skeletons that were moving about in sunlight!
These weren't the sort of lifeless skeletons occasionally uncovered when a grave was eroded by heavy rain but actual living skeletons that moved and jumped about just like humans.
The skinny farmer, who had managed to squeeze his way to the front, witnessed two of these skeletons actively loading a batch of radishes sold by a vegetable farmer onto a tricycle cart parked nearby.
He stood there, mouth agape, staring in shock and amazement at this eerie scene. It took him quite a while to snap out of it, and he gulped hard.
He was in a peculiar state now, torn between the desire to turn tail and run home and the curiosity to stray and witness this strange sight…
Collecting produce directly at the town gate was indeed more efficient than slowly wandering the marketplace, and in half an hour, Mia and Ben had loaded their five tricycle carts full of vegetables.
"These should be enough for today," Ben told Mia.
Mia, responsible for payments, wiped her brow and replied, "Alright, let's call it a day. We can go check the market."
Then, she waved toward the farm folk crowding the town gate and said, "We have enough vegetables for today, so we'll come again tomorrow. Everyone, please feel free to enter the city and don't obstruct the gate."
Were it in the past, Mia might have taken quite some time to explain that the Taranthan undead were friendly and wouldn't harm the farm folk. But now, she had the task assigned by Rex to focus on and couldn't afford to waste time. She waved to the farm folk and, along with Ben and the helpful undead, made her way back.
The procurement team turned into an alley and headed toward the market in the west of town, eventually disappearing from view. It was only after they were far out of sight that the intrigued farmers and farmwives crowding at the town gate collectively buzzed with conversation.
Many of them were planning to enter the town and sell their produce the next day. They couldn't understand when Weisshem had changed to the extent that even undead, which were the stuff of legends, were appearing! And these undead were mingling with humans and even buying their vegetables!
The skinny farmer, who squeezed his way to the front and managed to sell most of his inventory to the tricycle procurement team, returned to his fellow villages at the back, exclaiming with a mix of astonishment and delight, "You guys have no idea how frightening those clothed and armored skeletons are. I thought I was going to wet my pants when they got close! They can even talk, though I couldn't understand a word. It's all some weird sounds!"
"Did they really pay you?" a fellow village asked curiously.
"Yes." The skinny farmer proudly displayed the copper coins he had just received. "Look, I got these for the wild plums I picked in the morning."
Seeing the money, his fellow villagers couldn't help but envy him.
"Those wild plums were actually exchanged for so much? These people are really generous."
"I should have squeezed to the front too. My family grew these eggplants so well; perhaps they would've bought them too."
"Is it true that they are coming back tomorrow?"
Farm folk discussed animatedly and speculated if this was a one-time occurrence. Most who had initially only planned to watch before quickly returning home now changed their minds and began moving in groups toward the market on the western side of town.
The sight of the undead strolling around the town was undeniably frightening. But as long as these undead didn't harm the living and were willing to pay for the goods, the visiting farm folk began to accept their presence.
After all, they still needed to sell their produce, and essentials in their homes needed replenishing; having a few meals without oil was doable, but an empty salt box was a different story.
For the lower-class townsfolk and villagers from the countryside, there was nothing more challenging than staying alive.
The skinny farmer and his fellow villagers reached the marketplace and noticed that it was quieter than usual. Only the small shops that depended on daily business for their livelihood were open, while the large bread shops, clothing stores, and grain shops with haughty employees were all closed.
It wasn't just fewer open shops; the traffic in the marketplace was much lower than usual… Many of the townspeople that usually rushed to buy fresh vegetables early were conspicuously absent.
This bleak scene brought anxiety to the farm folk who were accustomed to the bustling market days. Those who had already sold their vegetables had stuff to buy, while those with unsold produce were eager to make a sale. With so few people around, could business still be conducted?
Even more startling was that farmers witnessed the same bunch, who had been bulk-purchasing their vegetables earlier, tear down the door of a grain store.
The scattered farm folk instinctively banded together, huddling close like they had at the town gate.
Once the store's door was broken down, from a distance of several dozen meters, the huddled farmers heard miserable wails coming from within…
Those with keen eyes even saw someone climbing out of the grain store's window, screaming frantically while fleeing down the alley…
The farmers clung together even more tightly as the strange and unsettling sight unfolded in their widened eyes.
Then, the terrifying undead entered and brought the elderly couple owners of the store who hadn't managed to escape. In front of them, the undead placed a scale, weighed sacks of flour, and paid for them immediately before loading the purchases onto tricycles…
This eerie group of procurers took away more than 100 kilograms of flour before moving on to the next store, leaving a small bag of coins in the hands of the stunned store owner couple.
When Hal and his two comrades arrived at the marketplace with their four tricycles, the procurement team had just left. The normally lively market had recovered about forty percent of its usual vigor. While it wasn't even half as bustling as usual, with many vendors and townspeople staying away, at least it wasn't as desolate as the other parts of the town.
After finding a relatively dry and less littered spot to park, Jerome, the youngest and least experienced of the three former bandits, took the initiative to take a waterproof canopy sheet from the cart and spread it open on the street side. Then, he quickly unloaded the goods from the tricycle carts, sorting and displaying them.
Rex, who had an understanding of the sort of good that could attract folk in the lower rungs of society, had arranged the first batch of products for the retail team: two carts worth of fabrics; a cart of miscellaneous plastic products like cups, bowls, buttons, and rain boots; and a cart of towels and sewing kits.
The real showstopper here were the rolls and rolls of curtain fabric—printed with an array of dazzling patterns, made from tightly woven threads, and stunningly vibrant (a perfect match for rural aesthetics). These were surplus stock that had been sitting in the factory for over five years on average.
Upon seeing these fabrics and towels, the town residents, farmers, shop owners, and employees were utterly mesmerized. It didn't matter who; they were all captivated by these products.
In the Navalon continent, the leading textile industry giant was the Kenyan Empire. Nearly a third of the continent's urban population had textiles from the Kenyan Empire in their homes. But what about the other seventy percent of urban residents and the even larger rural population? Why didn't they use these textiles?
The reason was simple: they couldn't afford them.
Due to the abysmal road infrastructure, the exorbitant cost of land-based transport that was five times higher than sea trade meant that prices of even simple printed shirts from the Kenyan Empire would be unaffordable when they reached the inland nations. A shirt that the common people in the Kenyan Empire could easily purchase would be sold in the inland regions for at least ten times the price.
Even in Indahl, only the wealthier residents could afford such finely woven fabrics with bright, intricate patterns, let alone Weisshem. The vast majority of people could only afford plain, rough linen clothing.
Hal and Tuttle, who hailed from well-to-do backgrounds, weren't in any mood to lend a helping hand. They stood on the spot, concerned about how Yang might settle the debt if they were to run away or if anything were to happen… If the goods were looted or there were discrepancies in the accounts, that scoundrel Yang would undoubtedly lay the blame on their shoulders.
Jerome, who was sweating profusely from hard work, had no hope of them helping. When he finished displaying the merchandise and saw that no customers were approaching, he could only follow Rex's instructions and shout, "The new lord brings to Weisshem exclusive new merchandise! Everyday essentials at unbelievably low prices! Brand new printed fabric, only ten copper coins per meter—"
Before Jerome even finished the sales pitch according to Rex's instructions, he felt his world momentarily blurring.
A woman, who had previously been purchasing vegetables across the street, seemed to move at a speed far exceeding that of an ordinary person and suddenly appeared right in front of their spot in a flash.
"H-how much is it?" This woman, who had the appearance of an ordinary housewife holding a basket of vegetables, stared fervently at Jerome. "Sir, what did you say the price for one meter of this fabric was? Can you please repeat it again?"
Jerome, who was often overlooked as an instructor NPC, sported a large beard to make himself seem older and to avoid being underestimated. He, too, came from a humble background.
Even though he had been instructed by Yang to act as a knight instructor, Jerome wasn't a true knight—before being cast out and ending up on the streets, he had merely been a squire, and that was a more flattering term. In truth, he had just been a knight's servant, responsible for tending to the needs of his master. When the knight went into battle, Jerome helped with the armor and weapons, and if the knight faced defeat in battle, it was Jerome's duty to guard the retreat.
Typically, a knight would have multiple squires, and not all of them would become full-fledged knights. If a squire grew older and more experienced and the knight didn't want additional future competition, the squire might be dismissed, and a more obedient, younger boy would be taken on.
In other words, Jerome knew the hardships of life and was well aware of what these unbelievably cheap and astonishingly high-quality goods meant for an average person.
"Ten copper coins per meter, madam," Jerome slowed his words and explained patiently. "The single-sided prints are thicker, while the double-sided prints are thinner, and both are priced at ten copper coins per meter."