In the continent of Navalon, there were two standards used to distinguish the "upper class" in big cities from the "lower class" in towns and villages. The first was whether they had electricity and gas supply, while the second was the presence of a landline.
Electric lights illuminating their hos, gas for heating and cooking, and being able to provide the household's telephone number on top of a ho address when asked for contact information were the standard portrayal of the big city middle class in Navalon.
One might ask why there's a classification of big city middle class?
Because towns like Camore in the Duchy of Shiga or Weisshem of the Rhine Kingdom, even if they were close to big cities and certain areas could have access to electricity, would find it impossible to install gas pipes and telephone lines—the construction and maintenance were simply too high, and gas and telecom companies couldn't afford this sort of loss-making business.
In large cities like Indahl, only a few blocks enjoyed the privilege of having electricity and gas supply, and one could only hear the ring of a telephone in the affluent areas.
For the vast majority of Indahl citizens that needed to contact their families when away from ho, their only options would be letters and telegrams, though the latter was only possible if there was a telegraph office in the area.
Weisshem, however, had no telegraph office. While so streets in Weisshem had access to electricity, telegraph companies didn't think that revenue generated from a local telegraph office would be enough to justify the investnt required for returns. The inco from the local post office could barely sustain the postmaster and three mailn, and there was little surplus to send back to the headquarters.
Yet, over the past week or so, the Weisshem post office had been relatively busy as large amounts of letters went back and forth between Weisshem and Indahl, on top of a significant amount of stamps being sold.
On this particular morning, in the dim light of dawn, 23-year-old mailman Bosha Laurie put on his windproof cloak and headed for the post office.
In this world, the postal industry wasn't state-run, but rather, it was privately managed by influential nobles, much like how electricity, gas, and telephone lines in each country were private, profit-driven entities. Post offices established in various regions were akin to chain stores, with the postmaster serving as the store manager and the mailn as employees. They had no direct dealings with the local governnt, and even the mayor had to pay for postage like everyone else.
As Bosha Laurie entered the post office located on the southern end of Martin Street, the postmaster and two other senior employees were already present.
After brief pleasantries, the postmaster began to assign tasks to the three mailn, "Laurie, today, you'll be heading into the city. Matt and Ban, you will deliver mail to the countryside."
"Hey, brother!" Matt raised his arms up in protest after hearing the arrangent. "Why is it Laurie going to the city again? When is it my turn?"
The postmaster glared at Matt in annoyance. "I'll let you go the day you are able to return on ti like everyone else."
Matt wanted to grumble but ultimately chose to keep silent.
The post office had one horse-drawn carriage and three bicycles. Typically, they used bicycles to deliver letters within the town and the surrounding villages. The carriage would only be used when going to Indahl, which happened once every week or two.
No one particularly enjoyed delivering mail to the countryside. When the post office collected sufficient mail and packages, all three mailn looked forward to driving the carriage to Indahl themselves. This ant they could claim two days of al subsidies and a chance to explore the city of Indahl.
Bosha refrained from showing his satisfaction as Matt's envious gaze was on him. After leaving the office and heading to the nearby rental agency to fetch the carriage, he clenched his fist in excitent.
When the post office didn't need the carriage, they would leave the horses along with the carriage at the rental agency, creating an additional source of revenue.
With the assistance of his two senior employees, Bosha loaded the cart with letters and packages. He sat in the driver's seat, ready to depart. Seizing an opportune mont when Matt, still grumbling, wasn't paying attention, Ban gave Bosha a playful wink.
Bosha didn't say anything, but he gave a slight nod before he shook the reins to set off.
Next, Bosha first went to Ban's house and received a package wrapped in an old cloth and weighed at least 10 kilograms from Ben's wife. Then, he went back to his house and got his younger brother to take out the cardboard box hidden in his room's closet.
Postage was very expensive. Sending a letter to Indahl cost three copper coins, whereas packages were priced by weight. Including so extra items while heading into the city was a common practice among Weisshem's mailn. And if there was still space available in the carriage, the duty mailman would also pick up a few paying passengers.
Matt liked going solo and always refused to share profits and benefits with others, so it was no wonder Bosha and Ban decided to team up against him.
The post office's carriage and bicycles provided by the company were very sturdy. The horses provided weren't ordinary horses but one-horned gray horses with monster blood in them. These were hardy horses with lower bodies, shorter legs, and covered by uneven gray fur. They might not be the most beautiful, but they were certainly robust, with more endurance than oxen, and were used for traveling between cities.
As the carriage was pulling out of town, Bosha once more saw those skeletons wandering all over the place. It seed like they had just returned from outside town; dew still clung to their bones, glistening in the morning sunlight.
These skeletons carried half-filled woven sacks on their backs and casually entered the town gates. As they passed by the cart, they even curiously turned their frightening skeletal faces toward the carriage, making strange "KABAKABA" cries as they ca up and closely examined the one-horned gray horse, seemingly in fascination.
"This horse is a Level 1 monster."
"Don't even think about it. It has a green na, so we can't farm it."
Bosha tried his best to keep his eyes forward, not daring to glance back until the cart had finally left Weisshem. Only then did he look behind him.
I wonder how long these skeletons will remain in town… thought Bosha to himself.
While he was happy that the new lord had brought affordable goods, which increased the post office's inco (many townsfolk sent fabrics to their relatives in Indahl), he had no intention of letting his children grow up "accompanied" by the skeletons in town.
"Good luck always cos with bad luck," Bosha muttered a Rhine saying to himself as he raised his whip.
The 60-kiloter journey, even with the carriage pulled by the one-horned gray horse, would take over three hours. It was nearly noon by the ti Bosha arrived at Indahl.
The post office carriage was painted green, and Bosha, dressed in his standard windproof cloak and the uniform underneath, didn't look anything like city dwellers. The city gate guards rely gave him a cursory glance and waved him through.
Bosha steered the carriage into the city, first heading to the main South Street to hand over Ban's and his "private goods" to the owner of a general goods store. This owner was none other than Ban's brother-in-law, who got his son to discreetly deliver personal letters, packages, and other items to paying custors. He also organized and handed over so stuff that didn't have postage for Bosha to bring back.
Bosha got off the carriage, carrying the thickly wrapped bundle onto the general goods store's counter, and said to the shop owner, "It's not letters this ti but so good stuff Ban and I managed to buy in Weisshem. Please display them on the shelves for us."
Ban's brother-in-law, a portly middle-aged man, brightened up upon hearing what Bosha said. "Is it that 'Undead Cloth'?"
Fabrics from Weisshem, which had recently beco available in Martin Street thanks to the new lord, had made their way to Indahl and beco a topic of discussion among the lower-class city folk.
These fabrics were robust, finely woven, vibrant in color, and intricate in design, and their astonishingly low prices naturally stirred excitent among these people. Were it not for the rumors about the closure of Weisshem's red-light district, the change in lordship, and the talk of undead wandering about in daylight, many small-ti rchants would have rushed to Weisshem with money in hand.
Bosha nodded proudly.
Amassing this bundle of fabrics hadn't been an easy task; money from over a dozen family mbers was pooled together, with them taking turns to stand in line at Martin Street each day. Besides setting aside five ters of cloth for his wife's dress, everything else acquired had been for Bosha to bring to Indahl.
Ban's brother-in-law hastily unwrapped the bundle, and a delighted smile appeared on his face after a single glance at the fabrics. Confidently, he said, "You'll be able to collect the money by the ti you are heading back. I guarantee this will be all sold out within the afternoon!"
"I'll have to trouble you, then," Bosha replied, smiling. "And rember, don't sell any of it for less than 20 copper coins per ter."
"Rest assured!" Ban's brother-in-law thumped his chest confidently.
After leaving the general goods store, Bosha steered the carriage to the Indahl post office.
Indahl's post office was notably larger in both architectural scale and staffing compared to Weisshem's. It not only featured a telegraph office but also a spacious courtyard capable of accommodating up to six carriages. The entire Inadahl territory, encompassing over 20 towns, relied on this hub for the transfer of mail and parcels and was naturally a far cry from a small-town post office.
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 Markus' 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 Markus 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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