Medipl, with eyesight even keener than Rimas, was the first to identify the approaching figures.
He repositioned his bow on his back as he spoke.
However, his expression and words conveyed a peculiar mix of relief and lingering caution.
“Pull the carriage to the side of the road and stop.
It looks like Viscount Poarr Gardin and his entourage.”
Upon hearing this, Skelvis immediately drove the carriage to the roadside and said:
“To encounter people this frequently on a small fief’s road is truly rare.
In all my years, it’s uncommon to meet even one person or group of travelers in a day.”
“Indeed.
Even for me, who regularly travels from village to village teaching children, this is unusual.”
While they were speaking, the viscount’s party on horseback approached.
They weren’t galloping at full speed, but they were moving at a pace faster than a trot.
Considering they had a carriage with them and were traveling on an unpaved road, their speed was relatively fast.
Fortunately, although the road wasn’t paved, it was well-compacted, and the viscount’s party was clearly familiar with it, allowing them to travel at such a pace.
Even so, the passengers in the carriage must be having a miserable time.
As the viscount approached, they moved to the side of the road.
When the group drew near, they removed their hats, bowing their heads and waists to show respect to the approaching noble entourage.
They simply hoped for the party to pass by quickly.
A nobleman could halt his journey and severely beat those who failed to show proper etiquette in their greeting.
An ill-tempered noble might do so even if someone merely bowed their head and waist without dismounting from their wagon.
In the worst case, the noble could demand harshly swhy theyhad not fully prostrated themselves with their foreheads to the ground.
Fortunately, the viscount’s party passed by without acknowledging them.
While there are nobles in the world who might return greetings or speak kindly, it’s a relief when they pass without causing trouble.
As the rear of the viscount’s entourage passed them and moved more than ten meters away, Medipl raised his head and said:
“Well, they just passed by without saying anything.”
“Yes, it’s fortunate.
It’s best not to get involved with nobles.”
As Skelvis said this, Rimas asked Medipl:
“Are there really nobles who would scold you for not prostrating yourself on the ground?
You mentioned that before, teacher.”
“Be thankful that you’ve never witnessed such a thing.
These days, nobles who demand that level of deference are rare in any principality, but in the past, it was commonplace.
In fact, you humans don’t realize it, but since the Empire was founded, the tyranny of nobles has decreased significantly and steadily.
We elves live long lives, so when I go home, there are still many who remember those times.”
“The Empire was founded twelve hundred years ago, right?
So are there elves over a thousand years old in the elven village?”
“Even in elven villages, people over a thousand years old are rare.
However, just because the Empire was established doesn’t mean the behavior of the nobility suddenly improved.
What was considered normal just a few hundred years ago is now seen as the tyranny of the nobility.
And as I said, it has decreased significantly now.”
“There are still a few elven elders, several hundred years old, who remember those times.
Especially before the Empire was established, it was unthinkable for us elves, the antheothnic races (the god‑sealed races, the godless race) abandoned by the divine, to become teachers.
There was a time when a noble could behead an elf on the street simply for being an elf, with nowhere to appeal.”
“Is that really true?
It wasn’t even for something like a wrong greeting?
They just beheaded them simply for being an elf?”
“Depending on which feudal state of the continent you were in, before the Empire, an elf venturing outside their village was risking their life.
Not only were monsters on the road a problem, but in those times, there were regions where not just elves, but even human commoners could be beheaded simply because a lord was in a bad mood.
However, when the Empire’s laws began to restrict the behavior of the nobility, the situation improved significantly for both elves and human commoners, at least here on the Imperial continent.
That’s why our elven race still feels deep gratitude towards the first Emperor.
And in appreciation of the improved situation, many elves are prepared to give their lives for the Empire at any time.”
“”If the other Emperors after the first one had paid more attention, things would have been better.”
“You are the first student I’ve had a conversation like this with, and the first to discuss a topic this deeply.
Rimas, you are a truly brilliant student.
Well, anyway, to explain what you just said, that is not the case.
The first Emperor was an unparalleled hero among heroes, but even so, the customs of the nobles and lords, which had been passed down for thousands of years, were far more entrenched and obstinate.
His Majesty enacted laws by synthesizing his own power, political considerations to stabilize the foundations of the new Empire, and the resistance of the ruling nobility, and arranged for his descendants to abide by them.
He orchestrated a flow that would resolve the issue over time, even if not immediately.
That decision and prediction proved correct, and that is why things have improved to this extent now.
As a long-lived race like ours, having observed the flow of the past centuries, we can clearly see that those decisions were rational and efficient.”
After Medipl finished speaking, his expression hardened.
This time, even without elven sight and hearing, both Rimas and Skelvis immediately understood why.
One of the viscount’s party members, who had been moving away, was now retracing their steps and returning towards them.
Skelvis and Medifle, who had just left the roadside and started moving the carriage again, stopped in their tracks, removed their hats, and bowed their heads.
The approaching man slowed his horse and said, “Raise your heads.”
When Rimas lifted his head at those words, he almost cried out in surprise.
He saw the large bear beside the mounted man before noticing the rider himself.
Rimas’s hand instinctively moved towards his crossbow, but Medipl, who was standing close by, swatted his hand away to stop him.
Only then did Rimas come to his senses, feeling a chill down his spine as he realized he had nearly pointed a weapon at a nobleman.
However, the man on horseback smiled gently and said:
“It seems you were startled by Sestern.
You probably didn’t see me riding with this fellow earlier because you had your heads bowed.”
The man dismounted while stroking the bear with one hand as he spoke.
The man’s horse was well-trained, remaining still even with the bear nearby and its master moving away without holding the reins.
Rimas noticed the epaulette on the man’s left shoulder, which also served to secure his cloak.
On the black background of the epaulette was a silver metallic circular ring, about 7-8 cm in diameter.
Short lines extended into the circle at positions marking hours, similar to a clock face.
However, unlike a regular clock, it only had markings from one o’clock to seven o’clock.
In the center of this clock-like design was a small symbol in the shape of a pine tree.
Based on what Rimas learned from Medipl, the emblem with markings up to seven o’clock indicates a Tier 7 warrior’s insignia.
As warriors grow stronger and advance in rank, more markings are added, eventually filling up to the twelve o’clock position.
The man looked at Medipl and spoke.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t greet you earlier—I was attending the lord.
It’s good to see you haven’t changed.”
“Please speak to me informally.
I am a lowly elf, a godless race.
You are a Tier 7 Warmonger.”
“If it were someone else, I would do so.
But I was once your student, so I think it’s fine to speak like this in private.
Besides, I don’t think these people are the type to report us or have close ties with nobles.”
“Of course, they are not such people.
And it was during my early teaching days when I couldn’t even teach properly, but thank you for thinking of it kindly.”
Rimas thought that Ledgetak, who looked much younger than his 34-year-old father Skelvis, must actually be older than he appeared, considering that Medipl had taught him during his early teaching days.
He calculated quickly and guessed that Ledgetak was probably around the same age as Skelvis.
“Please speak comfortably.
You’re doing it again.”
“Turning his gaze to Skelvis, Ledgetak spoke.
While he addressed Medipl, his former mentor, with a gentle tone, he spoke to Skelvis, the merchant, in a manner befitting his status.
“You’re a vendor, aren’t you?
Do you have any bolts?”
“Pardon?
Oh!
Yes, I do.”
Typically, merchants do not sell items like arrows or crossbow bolts, as it is illegal for commoners to possess weapons.
Weapons can only be sold to those with the right to own them, such as nobles or soldiers.
Thus, such items are not part of the goods carried by vendors traveling from one rural village to another.
However, while crossbows and bows are legally classified as weapons, exceptions are made for individuals in certain professions who are permitted to carry them for safety and self-defense.
Itinerant vendors are one of these exceptional professions.”
The crossbow is a weapon permitted for travelling vendors who lead dangerous lives outdoors, and naturally, they carry bolts, or crossbow bolts, as they are necessary for their own use.
Since these items are carried for personal use, they cannot be freely sold even if a villager expresses interest in purchasing them.
However, the situation changes if the potential buyer is someone like a noble who has the right to handle such weapons.
Naturally, Ledgetak, being a warrior, is authorized to possess weapons.
“Show me.”
When Ledgetak said this, Medipl asked,
“You came to buy bolts, didn’t you?
Did you use them all on the way?”
“No, teacher, the lord suddenly changed his destination.
It seems we’re heading to another place, and the bolts I use feel a bit excessive for the beasts there.
I might even lose them, so I’m planning to equip some cheaper bolts instead.
In the area we’re going to, those should be sufficient, and with low-cost ones, I wouldn’t even have to bother retrieving them.”
“Then, is the lord out hunting?”
“Since we’ve come this far, it seems he might stop by Whitestone as well.
I suppose he would, I think that’s the case.
But, of course, it depends on his mood.”
“Whitestone village was the lord’s property, wasn’t it?
I suppose he might do that.”
Meanwhile, Rimas’s father Skelvis retrieved a bundle of bolts from a box in the wagon.
Of course, during this time, Rimas held the reins to prevent the mule from suddenly moving.
Skelvis showed two bundles of bolts.
One was made of wood with only the tip being metal, while the other was entirely metal.
The crossbow carried by Ledgetak was smaller than the one used by Rimas and his father.
However, bolts were among the items standardized for military purposes after the Empire was established.
Regardless of where they were made within the Imperial continent, their size and purpose varied but could not be crafted arbitrarily by blacksmiths.
They had to conform to one of approximately dozens standardized types.
While precision in measuring deviations was not strictly enforced, they were required to be made with minimal visible differences.
As long as the bolt wasn’t too thick to be loaded, it only needed the tip to extend out of the crossbow.
Therefore, as long as the length was sufficient and the shaft wasn’t made excessively thick, adhering to the standards set by the Empire wasn’t particularly difficult.
“Show me that one first.”
Skelvis carefully presented the wooden ones that Ledgetak had pointed to.
After examining them briefly, Ledgetak said,
“Not bad.
How many are there?”
“It’s a bundle of 120.”
“Is the other one also 120?
Hand me that one too.”
“Yes, that’s also bundled in 120.”
Ledgetak handed the wooden bolts back to Skelvis and then received the metal ones for inspection.
“Both are good.
I’ll take them both.
Do you have any more?”
“No, that’s all.
These weren’t originally for sale; I bought them in bulk for my own use.
Of course, I sometimes sell them to villages that jointly own crossbows for defense, but that’s rare.”
Ledgetak nodded knowingly, as if he had expected this response.
“How much?”
“These are 200 coins for 12, and these are 330 coins for 12.
If you don’t need that many, I can sell them individually, one or two at a time.”
Naturally, the wooden bolts are 200 coins, being cheaper than the metal ones.
“I said both are fine and I’ll take both.
Seems you misunderstood.
Anyway, if I buy them all, it’s 5,300 coins, right?”
With that, Ledgetak pulled out his purse and began loosening the drawstring.
Skelvis, who hadn’t imagined he would actually buy all of it, was greatly surprised.
Paying no heed, Ledgetak continued speaking as he took out the money.
“Considering they were just tied up with a string and not even kept in a quiver, they’re in remarkably good condition.
Then again, with a long career as a travleing vendor, I suppose you couldn’t afford to neglect the upkeep of weapons for self-defense.”
“It’s true they were tied together, but I kept them carefully stored in a separate box.
And if you happen to need a quiver, I do have one—would you like to take a look?
I don’t use it, nor do I intend to sell it, but it felt too wasteful to throw away, so I’ve simply been carrying it around.
If you need it, you’re welcome to have it.”
Saying that, Skelvis went to fetch the item and returned with it.
Ledgetak looked over the leather container and spoke.
“The condition isn’t bad, but I can’t honestly call it a fine piece.
Still, carrying bolts around tied up with a string like that would be inconvenient, so I suppose this is better than nothing.
I’ll take it as well.
From the looks of it, it probably went for around seventy coins when it was first made.
Now that it’s aged and become secondhand, it wouldn’t even fetch half that—maybe around thirty coins.”
“No, there’s no need.
You can have that for free.”
Ledgetak untied the string and transferred the bolts into the quiver as he spoke.
“That won’t do.
Let’s handle it this way—let’s settle the payment first.
Here are fifty-three dials.”
The dial was a silver coin issued by the Empire, named for the sundial engraved on one side.
Throughout the Imperial continent, the exchange rate between gold, silver, and copper coins was fixed at 100 to 1, respectively.
Thus, 5,300 copper coins equaled 53 silver coins, and Ledgetak had paid entirely in silver.
According to what Rimas had learned from Medipl, only the Imperial Treasury had the authority to mint and issue coins—whether gold, silver, or copper—and counterfeiting was a serious crime.
Gold coins, silver coins, and copper coins were not made of pure gold, silver, or copper; while those metals formed the base, various other metals were mixed in as well.
In other words, Imperial gold coins were not pure gold, nor were silver coins pure silver.
However, in order to maintain their color, only metals of similar hue were alloyed into them, and the same principle applied to copper and gold coins alike.