PS: Thank you to Fallen Yuji for the two rewards of 50,000 crowns and 200 catties of orange cat for the reward of 10,000 crowns. Thank you very much!
Count Glamorgan's Jean Town was different from other Brittany cities. It was much more prosperous and orderly than normal human cities. Merchants drove carriages to and fro, and there were many shops on both sides of the street. Sacks of food, spices, sugar, and cloth were piled up all the way to the side of the street. Unlike other Brittany cities, the town was much cleaner. Many knights-errant came to the town every day in search of opportunities. They were here because of the reputation of Laing Macado, the Chosen of the Lake Fairy.
At the entrance of the town, the Ryan family's coat of arms was hung on the town gate. The local residents came and went, and there were large tracts of farmland near the town. The fields were full of wheat and all kinds of food crops, and the number of free people was increasing. On the walls and streets of the town, there were often patrolling soldiers. They were wearing mail armor, with swords hanging on their waists, shields and crossbows on their backs, and on the outside, they were wearing gorgeous gowns, and there was a faint murderous aura around them. It could be seen that they were soldiers who had been through hundreds of battles. Occasionally, there would be knights patrolling with soldiers. Earl Ryan had led their army to victory after victory, and they had just returned with a lot of spoils.
Raymond was also in a patrol team. After he registered, he went through a long period of training before he successfully joined the Halberd Battalion. It was said that he was able to join the Halberd Battalion because the Halberd Battalion had suffered some losses during the Battle of Lyonnesse Plains. Therefore, they specially recruited 30 people, and Raymond happened to be on the last train.
After joining the halberd brigade and becoming the count's soldier, his salary was quite generous. He could earn close to a crown a month. In his free time, he could also work in some shops and workshops to earn some extra money. His life was quite good. His daily meals were normal, and he could eat some meat every three days. Sometimes it was roast meat, sometimes it was soup.
A group of people was patrolling the streets. Raymond was holding a long halberd. The halberd was exquisitely crafted, clearly the work of the dwarves. However, dwarven craftsmanship also meant that the halberd was quite heavy. Raymond had to go through a period of training before he could use the halberd well. According to the words of the old knight, he was still far from becoming a qualified recruit.
"Back then, those terrifying barbarians came charging at us like a black river. Their faces were full of pimples, and they wore heavy armor. Many of them even had horns on their heads, and some even had extra heads. I even saw Ricardo pee in his pants. How embarrassing!" While patrolling, a halberd soldier was bragging about his experience in the Battle of Lyonnasai.
He was promoted to sergeant by Laing and rewarded with five crowns for risking his life to kill a Chosen of Chaos during the battle on the plains of Lyonnasai. He was quite proud of himself. Just a few months ago, he was a runaway slave who couldn't survive. Now, not only was he a soldier, he even married a tailor's daughter. He was practically a winner among the serfs.
They were envious. The recruits looked at the chainmail and robe on his body, their eyes burning.
"Is it really that scary?" Raymond was with a few other recruits. Hearing his senior's description, he felt a little scared. "Didn't you run away back then?"
"Run away? Why would we run away? " The soldier boasted, "Our Earl was standing not far away from us at that time. There were more than a hundred Sir Knights fighting alongside us. We had no intention of running away. We had persevered through the barbarians' frenzied attacks! We protected the count! "
"Come on, you're obviously afraid of being hanged for running away," said another veteran. He had a scar on his face that was said to have been left behind by the barbarians. He looked really ferocious. "We only managed to hold on for a few minutes before the knights came to our aid."
"I see."
"If you ask me, those barbarians are really strong. They can take on five or even ten of us at once. If it weren't for the knights instructing us to stay in formation, we might've been crushed in one wave." Another veteran said, "Also, our dwarven friend's cannons are really powerful. Those four-barreled cannons mounted on metal carriages can kill hundreds of barbarians in one shot!"
No matter what, being able to hold on for a few minutes against the barbarians' charge was already something to brag about.
The group continued their patrol. They turned into a street, and at the end of the street, there was a very quaint dwarven bar.
The outside of the dwarven bar was carved with a statue of an ancestor of the dwarves, followed by a large beer mug. The bar was huge, and the words "Long Beard Bar" were written in both Kazadni and Low Gothic.
The dwarven bar was about five or six meters tall, covered a large area, and was built with stone. It was a landmark building in the town, and also a paradise for the dwarves. The dwarves sold their own malt liquor, and there were also premium malt liquor imported from other dwarven kingdoms. There were now a large number of workshops and workshops along the Shinon River. Every day, production was in full swing, and all kinds of orders had been placed until next year.
The patrol team saw a sign in front of the bar, which said, "Pointy ears, cats, dogs, and pigs are not allowed to enter. Human friends are welcome (those without pants are not welcome)."
"It's the Long Beard Bar! Wow, I really want to go in and have a look, "said a recruit enviously." What's a dwarven bar like? "
"Actually, it's not much different. The decorations are more exquisite, the tables, chairs, bowls, and spoons are bigger and more beautiful, and there are many kinds of liquor inside." The newly promoted soldier said proudly, "The last time I went, I only sat for a short while and drank two mugs of Bagerman's beer. It cost me 50 silvers!"
"Bagerman's beer!" A few veterans gulped. The best dark beer in the Old World was produced in the Bagerman family's brewery in the Black Mountains. Its reputation spread throughout the Old World, and a mug of Bagerman's beer could be compared to a few pieces of black bread. It could also provide immunity to fear for ten hours. It was rich and refreshing, and was the kind of beverage that the serfs craved for.
After returning from the war, Laing was very happy that the Halberd Brigade he trained managed to hold out for a few minutes against the Warriors of Chaos. He rewarded the surviving soldiers with a mug of Bagerman's beer. During this time, the veterans had been reminiscing about the taste of Bagerman's beer. It was a pity that the beer was very expensive. A wooden barrel cost a few crowns, and a mug would cost around 30 silvers. The price fluctuated, and the serfs obviously couldn't afford it.
There were a few dwarves at the entrance of the bar. They seemed to have just finished working in the workshop. They were chatting non-stop and seemed to be planning to have a drink after work.
The dwarves were also bragging: "At that time, when those barbarian bastards were about to rush up, the new halberd soldiers trained by Earl Ryan were so scared that they peed their pants. But the strong dwarves withstood the pressure, and we let those barbarians have a good taste of cannons and bullets. We also blew up the mammoth's head. This time, if it weren't for us, Earl Ryan might not have won."
"Of course! Dwarves are the best!"
The dwarves chatted idly as they pushed open the door of the bar. They were stunned for a moment.
Inside the bar, there were neat wooden tables and chairs, as well as a large bar counter. Behind the bar counter were wooden barrels filled with all kinds of beer. Inside, there were more than a dozen dwarves drinking ale and stout while complaining about the inferior quality of Brittania's ale. There were many candles and special dwarven oil lamps in the bar. These oil lamps were sold on the market and had a good lighting effect. They were very popular in the homes of knights and nobles.
What surprised the dwarves was that in the corner, Count Laing and his brother Anglo were sitting there, drinking Bagerman's beer. On the other side of the table sat the dwarven runemaster Deron Fiennes and the dwarven engineer Dugan Ironman. They had beer and roasted meat in front of them, but their attention was focused on the blueprints.
Laing's little maid Emilia was also sitting next to Laing. She was not used to this environment. She carefully took Laing's arm, sat next to him, leaned on him, and looked curiously at the internal structure of the dwarf tavern.
"Sir Laing, Mr. Anglo, Miss Emilia, do you still need beer? I'll fill it up for you! "The dwarf bartender shook his stomach and reached out to take Laing's glass.
"Sorry to trouble you." Laing and Anglo both nodded. The dwarf bartender touched his white beard. "No, Sir Laing, we all want to thank you. We have a new home here. It's all thanks to your help."
After that, the bartender took two glasses of Bagerman's beer and placed them in front of Laing. He also gave him a plate of roast lamb. "For you, Sir Laing. I wish your beard long and beautiful! Haha ~ I also wish my beard long and soft. "
"Thank you!" Laing took the beer. "Brother! Cheers! "
"Cheers ~" Anglo was in high spirits. He swallowed the meat pie made by the dwarves and drank a glass of black beer. Then he looked at the runemaster Deron expectantly and said, "How is it? Mr. Deron, can you make this? "
The rune craftsman, Deron Fiennes, was still staring at the blueprint. His face was filled with deep shock. "I really don't know what to say … The axe you want to make is indeed something. I don't know if I can make it, Mr. Anglo."
"We have a lot of materials, Mr. Deron. I really need a handy weapon, and so does Laing!" Anglo's tone was full of expectation.
"I know, I know. In fact, it's not that I haven't made vibranium weapons before." Deron was still looking at the blueprints. There were two blueprints. One was the weapon that Anglo designed for himself, the double-wielded battle axe – Flesher. The other was the blueprint that Laing asked for from the Emperor, the long-handled battle hammer – Mjolnir. The long-bearded dwarf continued, "But what you want me to make is not only a vibranium weapon, but also an energy-absorbing enchantment and an energy-cutting enchantment. This is not easy to make."
"Then can you make it?" Anglo still asked expectantly.
"If it's just a simple vibranium weapon, of course I can make it. But I can't guarantee that I can make what you want with this blueprint, but I know someone who can make it." Deron finally shook his head in Anglo's disappointed gaze. "Because according to the effect you want, it will definitely be an artifact comparable to the 'Gal-Maraz' warhammer in the hands of the human emperor."
"There is someone, who is it?"
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