In the past, hardly anyone paid Bosha much heed when he ca to the Indahl post office. However, this ti, as his carriage pulled up, a small crowd imdiately ford around him.
"Hey, Laurie, what's going on with Weisshem?"
"Is the new lord there a black magician?"
"I heard Weisshem is full of undead!"
"My uncle went to Weisshem and hasn't returned since. Have you seen him?"
The cacophony of voices left Bosha at a loss as he was unsure which question to address first. Just as he was caught up in the chaos, the chief called out from the second-floor window, "Is it the mailman from Weisshem? Co up quickly!"
Bosha offered his apologies to the local staff and hurried into the building.
In the office, the concerned chief inquired, "Has the new lord of Weisshem affected business at the local post office?"
"Um… yes, business has been booming at the office; many people are coming to send parcels and letters," Bosha answered nervously.
"I an, has this new lord interfered with your work?" the chief asked again.
"No." Bosha quickly shook his head. "The new lord and the… the new undead mayor have never co to the post office."
At the ntion of "undead mayor," the chief's face turned ashen, and he gasped sharply. "O Lady Gold Coin… The mayor of Weisshem is an undead?!"
News of Weisshem's new lord being the illegitimate son of a viscount had already been circulating in the city for a week.
In this world, noble families having illegitimate children wasn't a novel concept. In fact, it wasn't just limited to nobility; even rchants and the more prosperous middle class often had semi-public affairs. Inspiring stories of outstanding illegitimate sons being brought back into the main household by their noble or wealthy fathers and receiving a portion of the family's resources were quite common.
As long as there weren't many scandalous rumors about the mother, such as a reputation for promiscuity or hailing from a particularly impoverished background, the matter of a noble's illegitimate child becoming a local lord was unlikely to attract widespread attention. Were it not for the new Weisshem lord rising to power through the use of necromancy, the people of Indahl wouldn't even find this whole matter worth discussing.
However, the undead being involved changed the whole gist… While local lords allowed spellcasters to construct mage towers, no lord would welco a black mage!
Bosha Laurie didn't want others to perceive his hotown as a terrible monster, so he feebly tried to explain, "It's true… but these undead haven't made Weisshem worse…"
Shutting down the red-light district had at least put an end to the lecherous gazes from nosy villagers whenever his wife returned to visit relatives in the countryside—Weisshem didn't have a great reputation, and if a young woman ntioned that she was from Weisshem, others would often regard her with the sa suspicion as a whore.
On top of that, the master of those undead, Lord Rex, was quite an amiable gentleman. Not only did he sell high-quality fabrics to the townspeople at low prices, but he also provided job opportunities for those struggling to survive in Weisshem. Bosha's neighbor, a widowed woman in her forties, hadn't been able to find laundry work after the red-light district was shut down. Now, at least, she was able to find work in the sanitation bureau and had lunch and dinner provided for.
"It can still get even worse, huh?" The chief misunderstood Bosha's point and sighed pessimistically. "Don't be in a rush to return back. Co with to the city lord's manor. Lord Adra III wishes to et those coming from Weisshem."
Bosha froze in place.
Indahl's lord, Adra III, wanted to see him?!
Half an hour later, at the city lord's manor.
Bosha Laurie, who had only ever t Baron Marcus' steward, found himself in the lord's manor's anteroom, completely uneasy, not daring to raise his eyes to the high and mighty city lord seated in the main chair.
This was probably the first ti in his life that Adra III was eting such a lowly commoner in his anteroom. He wrinkled his nose as his gaze moved from Bosha Laurie's ssy hair to his wrinkled, dusty postal service uniform, then to his dirty shoes on the marble floor.
Had it not been for his curiosity with regard to Weisshem's current situation, Adra III would have had this ill-dressed commoner thrown out a long ti ago.
"Lift up your head, commoner," Adra III said while pinching his nose. "Tell what's currently going on in Weisshem."
"Y-yes, your lordship," Bosha stamred. "W-Weisshem is now under the control of those undead. One among them has assud the mayorship and, a few days ago, posted notices in the streets, with the intention of hiring townsfolk for work—"
"Outrageous!" Adra III exclaid angrily, slapping the armrest hard. "Charlie Rex actually allowed an undead to be mayor?!"
Bosha was so frightened he stopped breathing and didn't dare utter another word.
The true owner of Indahl was the Bartalis family.
The small territories under Indahl naturally belonged to the Bartalis family as well; half the population and agricultural tax collected by those minor noble families went to Adra III.
It was the Bartalis family that allocated these small portions of land to these minor nobles, after all. Just like how the throne distributed territories to the major noble families, this had a purpose: to manage the land and its inhabitants, adhering to the rules of tily tribute and providing n and grain in tis of war.
The throne would assign regents to oversee the major noble families, and the major noble families too would appoint regents to keep an eye on the minor nobles.
Charlie Rex's unscrupulous seizure of Weisshem from Baron Marcus could be seen as two dogs competing to serve the Bartalis family… At the end of the day, both were their dogs; even if Black Mage Yang was being disrespectful, Adra III could still forcibly tolerate it.
The fact that Rex, the illegitimate bastard who had taken control of Weisshem, hadn't even bothered consulting Adra III regarding the choice of town mayor explained why Adra III was so furious…
On learning this, Adra III didn't need to inquire further about the situation in Weisshem. He dismissed the petrified Bosha Laurie and ordered his steward to summon the city defense force.
Adra III wasn't planning to wage war against Weisshem; teaching one's own unruly dog a lesson in his backyard didn't require an escalation to territorial warfare. He rely intended for the city defense force to make a "round of inspection" in Weisshem, flex so muscle, and show the illegitimate bastard and rude black mage who the true master of Indahl's territory was.
Bosha left the city lord's manor in a daze, every once in a while checking with the chief who had brought him there. "Did I say sothing wrong, sir? Did I anger Lord Adra III?"
"Don't worry, the Third wasn't angry because of you," the chief reassured the young man from the small town, patting his shoulder. With a sigh, he said, "Go back early and tell your local chief not to let your families go out in the next few days."
Bosha got even more frightened on hearing this.
He was just a re employee at the post office, and nothing would change regardless of how frightened or worried he was. Bosha chanically handled the mail and parcels to be sent to Weisshem and loaded them onto the carriage, all while enduring the curious gazes of the local Indahl post office staff.
On the main South Street, Ban's brother-in-law spotted the postal carriage and enthusiastically ca out from the store. "Haha, I'm a man of my word, Bosha! I told you the goods would sell out by noon… Hey, buddy, are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Bosha forced a smile as he alighted from the carriage. "How much did we make?"
Ban's brother-in-law ushered Bosha into the store and ca out from the back with a chest full of copper coins.
Bosha felt a great deal of his anxiety lt away as he held the heavy chest, and a smile crept onto his face.
"Oh, one more thing. So people want to hitch a ride back to Weisshem. Do you have enough room in the carriage?" Ban's brother-in-law asked.
"There's room," Bosha nodded. Free additional inco wasn't sothing to be turned down.
Ban's brother-in-law charged a twenty-percent service fee for handling their "private business." Helping ferry hitchhikers also ant more copper coins into the pockets of the Weisshem mailn. After checking the available space in the postal carriage, the stout middle-aged man summoned his son to go call the passengers hoping to catch a ride to Weisshem.
Weisshem didn't have any substantial industries. Young folks in town couldn't find jobs, so working in Indahl was the best way to make a living. The passengers hoping to get a ride this ti were residents of Weisshem, and Bosha knew their nas.
One of the passengers was a young woman in her twenties who lived on the sa street as Bosha. When she saw her childhood playmate, she asked anxiously, "Bosha, is everything okay at my ho?"
"Everything's fine of course, Caroline," Bosha reassured his neighbor's daughter while helping move her luggage into the carriage. "I just saw Aunt Winnie buying groceries at Martin Street yesterday, and she seed great."
The young woman, Caroline, breathed a sigh of relief, climbed into the carriage, and sat on the letter case.
Another young chap who climbed on after Caroline chid in, "There, I said that nothing major would happen; otherwise, Sir City Lord would have sent the city defense force over. Bosha is still delivering mail from Weisshem which proves that I was right."
The final two passengers teased him, "Stop bragging so much. Who was so worried they couldn't sleep for days and received a ticking off from the supervisor?"
"Yeah, had there not been soone holding you back, you would have already walked back to Weisshem on foot."
Bosha wasn't as relaxed as these fellow Weisshem youngsters, but he didn't dare bring up what he'd witnessed at the city lord's manor and the fury he faced. After all, if sothing big happened, he couldn't bear this responsibility.
Carrying the weight of this unspoken burden, Bosha acted nonchalantly as he set off from Indahl.
During the journey, the passengers occasionally leaned toward the small window, conversing with Bosha and inquiring about the situation in Weisshem. Bosha had to choose his words carefully to provide a comforting narrative.
Around three in the afternoon, the carriage arrived at Weisshem.
At this ti, the marketplace was bustling, and Bosha's passengers, who got off at the town gate, felt a huge sense of relief when they saw farrs flocking into town for the market. Other than the missing colored lights on the tree by the gate, the town didn't look too different from when they had left for Indahl for work half a year ago!
Even the militia guards at the gate were familiar faces!
The streets were filled with people they knew—
"AHHHHHH—!"
Caroline, a young girl working in a high-end restaurant in the southern district of Indahl, dropped her bundle, screaming in sheer terror.
The other three youngsters were equally frightened and huddled together.
Farrs carrying their produce and townsfolk with baskets of vegetables, as well as two players who had just walked out onto the town's main road, were startled by this intense and harrowing scream. Everyone ca to a standstill, looking around in all directions.
Upon discovering that the source of the scream was a young lady, they were relieved. Caroline, still shaking in fear, pointed at the two undead creatures.
"You gave us quite a shock!"
"We thought sothing terrible had happened. Geez…"
The farrs, who were busy trying to sell their vegetables, shot disapproving glances at the frightened Caroline. After so grumbling, they continued with their own tasks.
Housewives, whose hearts were pounding from the ear-piercing scream, also cast annoyed looks at Caroline.
The two undead creatures, who had elicited the scream, were making a "KABAKABA" noise, perhaps in protest, too.
Caroline and her three fellow Indahl workers were left dumbfounded…
Bosha, who hadn't driven the carriage away yet, felt extrely embarrassed. "Didn't I tell you? There are many undead in town now… If you're scared, you can just avoid them. They don't interact much with other people."
Caroline and the three shaken youngsters: "…"
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