Chapter 37

Bolnis is a town located at the westernmost point of the country of Holmea. Originally, it was established as a fortress by the river to keep an eye on the northern Solbiant Plain. Beneath this fortress, farmers who feared Zoan and merchants and craftsmen who traded with them naturally gathered, and over time, it became a town.

As the population grew, to prepare for Zoan attacks, a sturdy brick wall, five meters high (one meter is approximately one meter) and three meters thick, was built to encircle the town. With the construction of the town wall, the fortress, which had served as a military facility, changed its role to an administrative facility and remains at the center of the town to this day.

The town, which has undergone significant changes, now not only trades in agricultural products brought from the northern Solbiant Plain but has also developed into a commercial city where traders from the western maritime nation of Gebau, on their way to the capital of Holmea, stop to rest.

It was a little past noon when Hopkins's covered wagon, with a blue horse, arrived at the gates of Bolnis.

"Alright, next wagon!"

At the command of the soldiers inspecting the people entering the town, Hopkins slowly moved the covered wagon forward.

"Who are you, and what is your business in town?!"

"Yes. I am Hopkins, a traveling merchant who has just completed my business in the nearby frontier villages of Gebau."

Saying this, Hopkins pointed to the merchant guild flag hanging on the covered wagon.

The merchant guild is an association formed by merchants to protect themselves. Each year, a set amount must be paid as membership fees, but with the merchant guild flag, various conveniences are provided. Moreover, the merchant guild is known for never forgiving any bandits who attack its members, offering large bounties and relentlessly pursuing them. This also serves to protect merchants from bandits.

"Indeed, it is the merchant guild flag. Then, let's inspect the cargo."

"Please, please. As for the cargo, thanks to the blessings of the gods, everything has been sold, and it's empty now."

The squad leader, with his spear-wielding subordinates, lifted the cover at the back of the covered wagon and checked inside.

"Hey! It's a Zoan!"

At the squad leader's shout upon seeing Shemul, tension spread among the subordinates.

"Wait! That's my nephew's slave!"

"Nephew?!"

The squad leader looked inside the covered wagon again and saw the blue horse sitting next to Shemul, holding the chain attached to Shemul's collar.

"My sister, who married into a distant eastern country, sent her son to work as a merchant here, and he has come to work with me."

The squad leader, looking again, realized that the hair color was indeed something he had never seen before. The face was flat with few features, and it was clear that this person was not from around here.

"But, recently, the Zoan have been very active in this area. Even if he is a slave, we cannot allow a Zoan into the town."

"Commander, please. He is my nephew's favorite, brought from a distant eastern country."

Saying this, Hopkins handed over a few bronze coins. He didn't give too many, as it might raise suspicion, but enough for the soldiers to have a drink after their shift.

"Hmm. If that's the case, there's no choice. But don't cause any trouble. You may enter."

The squad leader, trying to hide his smile at the weight of the bronze coins in his hand, called out, and the soldiers blocking the path of the covered wagon moved aside.

"Phew. That was nerve-wracking..."

After entering the town and confirming that they were far from the gate, Hopkins wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

"I'm sorry for the trouble."

The blue horse bowed his head apologetically. Then, turning to Shemul, he asked,

"Shemul, is the collar uncomfortable?"

"It's fine."

Despite saying this, Shemul kept fidgeting with the collar, clearly feeling uncomfortable.

For the blue horse, it was also painful to have Shemul wear a collar and hold the chain, even if it was for infiltrating the town.

"Still, this town smells terrible..."

The blue horse agreed.

Since entering the town, an indescribable odor had been assaulting his nose. It was a strong stench of filth, decay, and mysterious irritants mixed together.

Through the gaps in the covered wagon, he could see filth and animal carcasses left on the side of the road. Moreover, orphaned children, blackened with dirt and mud, sat on them without a care.

In an era where the concept of urban sanitation was almost nonexistent, this was to be expected, but it was still a terrible environment.

For Shemul, with his far more acute sense of smell than humans, this must have been particularly unbearable.

"The stench is terrible, and the dust is also bad."

The roads were not paved with stones but were merely compacted earth. During dry periods without rain, dust would rise, turning the town a light yellow. This scene, combined with the mud-brick houses on either side of the road, made the town look like a desert town in the Middle East.

The covered wagon, carrying the blue horse, slowly moved along the main street connecting the east and west gates, where there was a fair amount of pedestrian traffic.

The clothing of the townspeople was mostly similar.

Men wore a tunic-like upper garment that reached just above the knees, tied around the waist with a leather strap, and trousers underneath. Women wore tunics that reached down to their shins. The blue horse couldn't see, but the trousers were worn only by men, and women wore nothing underneath.

"How many people live here?"

"Be prepared to be surprised. It's said that there are more than ten thousand. Isn't that an impressive town?"

Hopkins said proudly, but the blue horse could only respond with a complex smile.

In modern Japan, a population of ten thousand would be the size of a small town or village. However, in this world, it was a fairly large city.

The blue horse was concerned that he didn't see many soldiers, which he needed to confirm for the attack on the town.

"I don't see as many soldiers as I expected."

"Of course not. Most of the soldiers are stationed at the gates and the town walls."

"How many soldiers are there?"

"About four or five hundred, I'd say."

"Surprisingly few."

"Is it? I think that's about right."

Soldiers are non-productive.

They do not produce a single grain of wheat, so to maintain a standing army, other people must support them. Naturally, the higher the ratio of soldiers to the population, the greater the burden.

Moreover, the soldiers are strong, young men who should be engaged in production and logistics. Increasing the number of soldiers not only increases the burden but also deprives the workforce of the people who should be engaged in production and logistics, leading to a decline in their capabilities.

Therefore, in this world, the number of standing army soldiers is approximately two to four percent of the population. The number of soldiers in this town is not particularly small.

"Mr. Hopkins, what will you do next?"

"Well, since we're in town, I'd like to have a drink at a tavern and then pay my respects to the guild."

Hearing about the tavern, the blue horse's curiosity was piqued.

In the games and fantasy novels he knew, taverns in towns were places for exchanging information. In the dimly lit taverns, filled with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke, skilled adventurers would tell their tales of adventure, and merchants dreaming of making a fortune would exchange information.

"Can I go to the tavern with you?"

"If you're going to watch to make sure I don't betray you, it's unnecessary. I'm a merchant, after all. Once I've been paid, I'll fulfill my obligations. Besides, I don't want to lose my wife and son."

"No, I'm just interested in the tavern here."

"Then it's fine, but I can't bring that young lady."

At Hopkins's words, Shemul, who was visibly displeased, was quickly calmed by the blue horse.

"Shemul, can you keep an eye on this military fund? It would be disastrous if it were stolen."

The security here was not good, and leaving the military fund, which had been brought from the fortress, unattended in the wagon would be like inviting theft.

Shemul understood this necessity but was reluctant to be separated from the blue horse, even slightly, in a town where they could be discovered and surrounded by human soldiers at any moment. He grumbled.

"Soma, are you getting better at handling me?"

The blue horse's gaze wandered aimlessly.

◆◇◆◇◆

The blue horse entered the tavern with high expectations, but it was quite different from what he had imagined.

The rough tables were crammed with people eating and drinking, just like those seen in the town, but there were no strong warriors in armor or mysterious magicians with magic wands, as he had expected.

Hopkins found an empty table and sat down with the blue horse.

"Hey, come over here!"

Hopkins called out loudly to a waitress, who came over without even saying "welcome." Hopkins first handed her a bronze coin.

"Drinks and food."

"Drinks are one dinas. Food is two dinas."

Hopkins placed three more bronze coins on the table.

The blue horse looked around the tavern, wondering if there was a menu, but it seemed there wasn't. He ordered the same and handed over three bronze coins.

However, the waitress didn't leave, still looking down at the blue horse.

Remembering that Hopkins had first given a bronze coin, the blue horse, who had heard about the custom of tipping in foreign restaurants on TV, hurriedly handed over another bronze coin. The waitress picked it up and went to the kitchen without a word.

For the blue horse, a modern Japanese, tipping was not a familiar custom, but in this world, it was essential when shopping.

In fact, these waitresses were not paid by the restaurant but earned their living from tips given by customers. The restaurant provided a place for the waitresses to earn tips in exchange for their help.

"Are there no adventurers here?"

While waiting for the food, the blue horse asked Hopkins about the lack of adventurers.

"Adventurers?"

"Well... people who get paid to slay monsters, take on quests, or explore caves for treasure."

"What an interesting idea. Are you talking about day laborers or mountain men?"

Hopkins's answer made the blue horse feel his expectations deflate.

Despite being in a fantasy world, it seemed there were no adventurers like those in games or novels.

"If you need day laborers, you can pay the tavern owner to post an advertisement."

Hopkins pointed to a wooden board casually leaning against the adobe wall. The board was covered with several papers nailed to it.

The papers had illustrations of people swinging pickaxes in the mountains or carrying wooden boxes, with vertical lines drawn beneath them. The illustrations indicated the type of work, and the lines represented the number of people needed.

"Is the literacy rate in this world very low?"

"Literacy rate? Can you read and write? Well, unless you're a scholar or official, you can't. I only know a few simple words for my business."

The blue horse had suspected as much from the illustrations on the advertisements, and it seemed the literacy rate in this world was indeed very low.

At that moment, the waitress returned and placed the dishes and pots on the table without a word. In modern Japan, such poor service would have caused a furious reaction, but Hopkins didn't seem to mind, so this must have been the norm here.

"Let's eat."

In front of the blue horse were a third of a round bread, a small pot, and a wooden bowl of soup.

Looking inside the pot, he saw a brown liquid filled with foam and debris.

The bowl contained a stew. Chunks of fish and vegetables, cooked until almost unrecognizable, floated in a muddy-colored broth.

"Is this...?"

"Bread, ale, and soup."

Ale, familiar from fantasy works, is a type of beer made from barley malt and fermented with yeast. In modern Japan, beer usually refers to lager, but before lager became popular, ale was the more common type of beer.

"How do I eat this...?"

The bread in the covered wagon was too hard. The surface was as hard as a cracker, and the inside was just a lump of barely cooked flour that crumbled easily.

"You can blow off the debris on the surface of the ale before drinking it. Soak the bread in the soup to soften it."

Following Hopkins's advice, the blue horse blew off the debris and tentatively took a sip of the ale.

"..."

An indescribable taste spread in the blue horse's mouth.

It was nothing like the beer he had secretly tasted with his father during celebrations. If he had to compare it, it was sour, bitter, medicinal, and warm and flat, like a beer that had lost its carbonation.

The ale in this world, due to the lack of filtration techniques after brewing, had a sour taste from over-fermentation and a bitter taste from impurities. The medicinal smell came from herbs added to prevent the growth of bacteria and extend the shelf life of the ale.

The flatness was due to the lack of carbonation technology, with only a small amount of carbonation from fermentation remaining. Moreover, the poor storage conditions meant that even this carbonation had mostly dissipated.

The blue horse's romanticized image of ale, shared by characters in fantasy novels, crumbled.

Still, he decided to try the bread and soup.

However, when he tried to tear the bread to soak it in the soup, it was too hard to tear. Watching Hopkins, he saw that he had dunked the entire bread into the soup.

The blue horse tried to do the same but was deterred when he met the white, cloudy eyes of a small fish whose body had dissolved in the soup, leaving only its head intact.

"Damn... I can't give up here!"

Driven by a sense of mission, the blue horse stubbornly soaked the bread in the soup.

The bread,