Chapter 66

This year, the first day of the Great Market was also sunny.

Last year, the year before, and even before that, this day was mysteriously sunny.

As far as Marcel knew, this had continued for a long time, and at least since his great-grandfather's time, not a single drop of rain had fallen on this day.

However, the cold was severe. It was a principle of this season that it would get colder when it was sunny. The aged and thin Marcel was puffed up in layers of clothing, even the clothes he was selling.

Marcel secretly felt relieved that the Great Market seemed to be starting as it had in previous years.

It certainly wasn't a pleasant feeling to have something bad happen as soon as he became the chairman of the city council.

After all, his predecessor, Backesdorf, was now a criminal. Marcel, who was recommended to the council as the least controversial among the master weavers, had only one hope: to see everything through without any major issues.

Marcel climbed the stairs of the main gate, which was about to welcome the sunrise, and recited a prayer to the goddess.

Please, may many merchants gather this year.

The trading volume of the Great Market influences the tax revenue of the ancient city. Ideally, he wanted many merchants to come.

While rubbing his hands together in the cold and reaching the top of the stairs, he entered the bell tower. When the chairman of the city council rings the bell here, the Great Market begins. This honorable duty is both a right and an obligation of the chairman of the city council.

Marcel had one more concern, but starting the Great Market was the priority.

At the peephole that allowed a view outside the main gate, Holger and Gerhard, this year's guards, were already waiting. They seemed busy looking out the window and didn't notice Marcel.

"Ahem."

Marcel cleared his throat with as much authority as he could muster. Though he was over sixty and still spry, Marcel was like a light palanquin in the city council, floating between the old Backesdorf faction and the current mainstream, maintaining his influence.

However, Holger and Gerhard were the ones who might listen to him. He had assigned them to this duty for that reason.

However, for some reason, they didn't turn around even after his cough.

Thinking they might not have heard, he cleared his throat again, but it was ignored.

There was nothing he could do. Marcel decided to greet them with a low bow.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Has this year's caravan crossed the first hill yet?"

From this bell tower, three hills along the road could be seen: the first hill, the middle hill, and the back hill.

If the caravan and its escort reached the middle hill, the Great Market would be a great success, but in recent years, due to the Northern Three Provinces issue, the caravan hadn't even reached the first hill.

Marcel was hoping that this year, with the North settled, would be different.

"Ah, Chairman, this is a bit... "

"It might be a bit difficult."

When Holger and Gerhard said ominous things in unison, Marcel's stomach tightened.

Had the carriages not even reached the first hill? If so, the tax revenue would be even tighter than expected. There were mountains of things the council wanted to tackle, such as repairing the city walls and dredging the canals. It would be good to secure enough tax revenue to start on these projects.

"... I see, I was somewhat prepared for that. So, how many have come? Surely not as few as can be counted on the fingers of one hand?"

"On the fingers of one hand, huh. Can they be counted, Gerhard?"

"A bit difficult."

As Gerhard counted on his fingers, Marcel's shoulders slumped. He might need to buy some stomach medicine from the trendy pharmacy that recently opened on Stable Street.

It was a disaster to be caught up in such a situation in his first year of office.

He felt sorry for the citizens who were looking forward to the Great Market, but this year, he would have to proceed quietly and use the experience for next year.

"But, isn't it rare to have more than ten carriages with coats of arms?"

"At least there's no record of it in the past dozen years."

"... Coats of arms?"

Marcel tilted his head at the conversation between the two.

Noble carriages bore coats of arms.

The Duke of Sanknussemburg and the Baron of Brandano were the usual visitors to the ancient city's Great Market. Some nobles came incognito, but it was rare for nobles to visit officially in carriages with coats of arms.

"The Duke of Sanknussemburg and the Baron of Brandano, as usual... Whose coat of arms is that, Gerhard?"

"His Excellency, the Count of Badenburg, Johann Gustav. Next, the Counts of the Northern Three Provinces: the Count of Windelmark, the Count of Carsenmark, and the Count of Systinmark. The Baron of Clovinkel, the minstrel, and the Archbishop of the district. There's also the banner of the Cardinal of the Holy Kingdom. This is rare."

The names of the distinguished guests that Gerhard mentioned were hard to believe, and Marcel stuck his head out of the peephole.

There, an unbelievable scene spread out.

The carriages with coats of arms and the banners held by the knights leading them fluttered up to the first hill, and beyond, the carriages stretched endlessly. The number of guards was often exaggerated to boast about the goods they carried, but this year was different. Truly, the nobles were entering the city with their retinues, and the scale was unprecedented.

The line of carriages extended to the back hill without a break, and it was almost certain that it continued even further. What on earth was happening?

"Well, this is a big problem, Chairman, isn't it?"

"There aren't enough accommodations for the visiting nobles. We need to urgently convene the city council to decide who will host whom. Of course, we also need to decide what to do with the merchants and their guards who are left out."

"Ah, yes... We also need to prepare the banquet."

"No, we can discuss that with them later."

Gerhard's hesitant attitude was puzzling. It wouldn't do to tell the nobles to go to the taverns and drink and eat as they pleased.

There were only a few places of a certain standard that could be reserved at short notice. It was a headache.

Marcel searched his pocket for parchment to write down the tasks he needed to do. As he did so, a letter fell to the floor.

"What is it, Chairman, that letter?"

"It seems to be of very good quality."

"Yes, I wanted to consult you two about this."

When he opened it, elegant writing revealed something incomprehensible.

"What, what? 'The one named Damian, who is imprisoned in your city, is under the protection of the Eastern Kingdom. Release him immediately. Princess Regent Celestine de Orlia of the Eastern Kingdom'...?"

Princess Regent Celestine, who ruled the Eastern Kingdom on behalf of the young king Hugo, was a big catch. Why would such a person be concerned about a single criminal in the ancient city?

"Indeed, a man named Damian is imprisoned... "

"What is his crime?"

"He was the ringleader of the witch hunt. He was under the protection of the Archbishop but has been excommunicated."

"This is a very confusing story."

The three of them nodded silently. This was surely a sophisticated prank. The parchment was impressive, but the lack of the Princess Regent's seal made it even more suspicious.

"Anyway, the Great Market is more important now."

"That's true. Chairman, please ring the bell."

"Ah, right."

After clearing his throat, Marcel reached for the rope of the bell.

Pulling this would start the Great Market.

He had been drifting through life, but at least he would pull this rope with his own will.

Thinking this, Marcel glanced out the peephole one last time and saw something that shouldn't have been there.

On the hill, a large banner fluttered, depicting a "three-headed dragon with an eagle's claw"...

"S-Sire, the late Emperor!"

Shaken by the sight, Marcel almost collapsed and grabbed the nearest thing.

Ringing, ringing...

The bell, pulled by the rope, resonated with a heavy sound, and the guards waiting outside removed the bolts from the ancient city's main gate.

The lead carriage slowly aimed for the gate, and the flow of the following carriages spread like ripples to the other side of the hill.

Somewhere, someone whistled, and gongs and drums began to sound in response.

Here, the Great Market of the ancient city began.