Chapter 294 — Cedar Town
Blade of Dawn · Page 2 of 3
"What do you mean, an insight! And look at you, worn out all over—are you sure you don't need some rest? You're going to keep drawing blueprints already?"
"I have to get it down quickly, or Kamael and Nicholas Egg will end up doing useless work..."
Amber headed for the bookshelf, grumbling all the way: "Keep this up and you'll drop dead sooner or later, I'm telling you... and if you really do drop dead, I'll have to dig a pit for you, and then who knows whether those two granddaughters of yours will even raise my wages..."
Gao Cen looked baffled. "Why are you so dead set on digging a pit for me after I die?"
"Because obviously—I was the one who dug you up in the first place. I do things from beginning to end..."
Gao Yang felt he had knocked too lightly just now. This half-elf's skull might not be as hard as Rebecca's, but her mouth really was asking to be slapped!
At the same time, in the eastern stretch of the Dark Mountains' extension, in the border town of "Cedar Town."
This small town was one of the few market towns along the border between Ans and Typhon. The Typhonians had founded it two hundred years ago as a resting place for hunters, traders, and soldiers along the frontier. Two hundred years of development had not made the town prosperous; on the contrary, because relations between Typhon and Ans had steadily worsened over the past few decades, the town had grown desolate and tense along with them.
Winter nights always fell early. Under the dim daylight, the small market town lay covered in the snow that had fallen over the past few days; in many places the snow had been trampled by men and beasts into mud, staining the town's streets ever dirtier and more dilapidated. Few pedestrians walked the deserted streets; the handful of permanent residents were all huddled at home, sheltering from the bitter cold and the north wind. Those walking the streets were, apart from the Typhon Empire's patrol soldiers, only armed men dressed as mercenaries or adventurers—and the latter all seemed hurried, for the most part not lingering long in the streets, since that easily invited trouble.
Ever since relations between the two nations had plunged to freezing point, trade along this line had all but dried up, and the town's most important economic pillar had taken no small blow. Add to that the unusually harsh frost and snow this winter, and East Wolf Fort's ban on hunting in the southern and western forests, and life had grown harder still. The only ones who could be found wandering the streets at such a time were, apart from soldiers, the "desperadoes" who had gathered here to make a living off the fighting.
To the common folk, mercenaries and free adventurers were really not much different from desperadoes.
The town's only tavern was the one place here that could still be called lively. Before night had fully fallen, bright lamps were already lit. The semi-solid grease made from powdered firestone mixed with animal fat was a new thing the imperial soldiers had brought from the east; when this grease burned it gave off a foul smell, but its bright, long-lasting light and low price made it much favored by the lower classes.
Under the glaring light of the "grease lamps," the mercenaries and adventurers in the tavern gathered in groups of three or five. They raised foaming mugs of cheap ale and drank heartily, talking and laughing loudly, utterly indifferent to the various stenches filling the tavern—all sorts of nauseating odors permeated that chaotic space, and even the strange smell of the burning firestone grease had lost any presence here.
And in this chaotic, noisy environment, the tavern door was suddenly pushed open. A tall figure wrapped in a cloak slipped into the tavern and walked straight to the bar.