Chapter 751

Chapter 15 Rain Curtain

On April 18, 1189, in the region of Silgarjan, in the city of Areitian, there was a light rain.

The river flowed fiercely, and the mountains were hazy.

Since the heretical villains broke through the Mosli coast defense line in 1187 and engaged in a fierce battle with the Knights of the Third and First Orders in the southern city of Areitian, almost two years have passed. From afar, the gap in the city walls that was breached by inferno has been rebuilt, and the new gate seems even more sturdy. The buildings, towers, streets, and alleys within the city, though not fully restored, no longer bear the marks of the brutal battles. The signs of the fierce combat are almost gone.

That year’s chaos filled the entire southern region with blood and disaster, but since the Knights’ cleanup operations began to wind down at the beginning of last year, people gradually noticed that they rarely heard about the remnants of heretics escaping within the city or outside.

Only then did the place truly begin to become lively again.

People from all directions gathered here, including soldiers ordered by the Church to support Areitian unconditionally, peddlers and farmers who lost their homes, as well as travelers arriving in waves. Many of these people were affected by the disaster, losing their livelihoods and towns, some arriving in rags with their families, destitute, hoping to find new opportunities for survival in the recovering city or to work on rebuilding the city itself just to have a meal and a place to settle down.

Displaced and in need of revival, the farmers hoped to regain their land, while merchants and lesser nobles aimed to rise again. But before that, regardless of wealth or status, they could only live in confusion and helplessness, watching their family members grow thinner from hunger and struggling to solve daily survival issues.

Throughout last year, these people’s hurried figures became the most common sight on the roads of Areitian. This changed slightly this year as construction in the city slowly picked up, bringing new opportunities. Half of the old trade routes have been restored, and the burned and plundered farms and fields in the outskirts began reconstruction early this year. By April, the outlines of the newly revived areas were already visible from afar.

A small portion of the people walking on the streets began to dress more brightly.

Things seemed to be improving.

But returning to the bustling scene of the past, where vendors, nobles, and wealthy young people were everywhere, and the market thrived with the people flourishing, was still uncertain how long it would take.

Outside the city, the grasslands, hills, and canals that had been ravaged by war and soaked in blood seemed unable to regain life since then. Large areas of vegetation were rotting in the foul mud, and dark brown sludge polluted the rivers. Although bones were no longer visible, an inexplicable, nauseating stench could still be detected several kilometers away.

“Almost two years have passed, and every time I walk just outside the northern part of the city, I can smell that putrid odor like rotten poultry in pig manure within a short distance. How does that smell never dissipate…”

On the northern wall, soldiers of the Areitian Warhammer Army—now reorganized—most of whom were fresh recruits from the battlefield—some felt tired and leaned against the battlements to sit down, drinking deeply from their leather flasks and passing them to their comrades sitting beside them.

The drizzle had soaked their armor and clothes, but neither of them paid any attention to such trivial matters.

“I’ve also seen corpses on the battlefield, and even then, I couldn’t stand it for long… I wonder how those merchants who came by river managed to keep their composure and endure that smell…”

The man casually chatted, and his companion took a few sips from the flask and replied, “How do you know they aren’t bothered by that smell? You haven’t been on the same boat with them… In my opinion, they’re all just holding on. Look, merchants are driven by profit… If I could earn so much gold, I’d stay there for three days straight…”

“Come on, you don’t…

The merchant’s brain.”

The man who had spoken earlier laughed and snatched the wine bag back. He muttered under his breath, “Stupid fool, can’t even count the bill for a loaf of bread,” then wiped the rain off his face, shook his head, and took a sip.

The companion he had scolded did not get angry but instead chuckled and snickered. After the other man drank a few sips, he snatched the wine bag back, but did not drink from it. Instead, he leaned in closer, lowered his head, and said mysteriously, “I heard about a deal recently that I think we both could do.”

“Oh? What kind of deal…”

The man was somewhat dismissive of what he said, ready to shake his head and stand up, but then the other continued, “Really, Westeros, don’t tell anyone else, this is information I bought from the black market with my own money… Listen! It’s definitely worth doing…”

“Then go on and tell me.”

The man named Westeros was becoming impatient.

But he had to admit, he was indeed intrigued by what the other man said. So he sat down steadily again, staring into his companion’s eyes—there was tension and excitement in those eyes.

“Last year, the knights stationed in the city, they had a serious rebellion among themselves. Do you remember this…”

After hearing this, Westeros seemed slightly stunned.

The companion thought he hadn’t understood or was pretending not to understand, so he clicked his tongue and lowered his voice again, “It was the Third Knightly Order, those who survived in the hands of the heathens the year before… Many of them were seduced by heresy and fell to temptation… That time… weren’t they all beheaded outside the city? But let me tell you, the matter isn’t over yet—”

“Hush!”

Before the companion could finish speaking, Westeros quickly covered his mouth, reacting swiftly, “How dare you still talk about this! Don’t you know the decree in the city? Trouble comes from speaking out! Do you still want to live…”

The man spoke in a muffled tone, his wide eyes filled with a mix of panic and caution. After shouting, he first looked around subconsciously, only relaxing a little when he saw no one paying attention to their conversation.

He then waved his hand and cursed, “Go away, go away! Don’t say another word, I don’t want to hear your foolish thoughts. If you’re bored with life and think it’s too long, don’t drag me into it… I have a wife and daughter waiting for me at home…”

“…Alright, alright.”

Perhaps the companion realized what he had just said and saw the panic in the man’s expression. Suddenly feeling a bit uneasy, he dared not speak further but seemed reluctant.

After a while, the two finished the wine in the jug, stood up, and felt a bit drunk. The companion reached out and knocked on Westeros’ shoulder plate, about to speak again. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, something seemed to flash across the sky high above and enter the city.

“…Huh?”

“What’s wrong…”

Noticing the companion suddenly look up, a puzzled expression on his face, Westeros followed his gaze—rain pelted his face, not too heavy, but the wind made it feel cool. The gray clouds obscured the sunlight, making the whole sky appear foggy, yet clean and clear, refreshing. Apart from that, they saw nothing.

“A bird?”

“What kind of bird…”

“Just now, I thought I saw a large bird…”

“Talking nonsense, already drunk after a few sips…”

“There’s nothing strange about seeing a large bird…”

After a few more idle words, the companion finally couldn’t hold back. As a small patrol guard passed by behind them, he leaned close to Westeros’ ear and whispered, “Listen, I know you care for your sister-in-law… I also know you and I are different; I am content with myself, but you need to support three others… We are friends, so I want to share this business opportunity with you… It’s a profitable business, enough to make a lot of money… Enough to ensure your sister-in-law and your daughter won’t worry about food and clothing for at least three years. Understand? And I can also drink enough wine… Hm? If you’re interested, we can talk more about it tonight at the usual place… just the two of us.”

After saying this, he acted as if nothing had happened, waved his hand, and walked back to where he was standing earlier, leaving the man alone in the rain, with hesitant and undecided eyes.