Inside Reinette Tinekerr's black castle, when Hastur came to visit again, Sharron was chatting with Reinette Tinekerr in the first-floor hall.
"Chirp."
Gregrace, who had returned with Hastur, had shrunk herself into a tiny ball. She flew over to Sharron and perched on her right shoulder. After looking Reinette Tinekerr up and down, she withdrew her gaze.
"She'll be the one taking us on the next leg of the journey." Hastur sat on the sofa opposite Sharron, accepted a cup of hot tea from Reinette Tinekerr, and took a small sip. "She seems to like you quite a bit."
"Chirp." Gregrace responded, stretching out a wing to gently touch Sharron's head, as if saying, I've got this person under my protection.
Sharron was already used to this. Reinette Tinekerr's pupils contracted slightly, but in the end, she merely let out a soft sigh.
Sharron reached out to tease Gregrace and casually asked Hastur, "Where did you go just now?"
"To meet an old friend I had never met before."
Sharron didn't ask anything further. The two of them stayed in the castle for a while longer before following Gregrace out of the spirit world and heading toward the Intis Republic.
To avoid attracting too much attention, Hastur had Gregrace stop some distance away from the capital, Trier.
With a gentle flap of Gregrace's wings, a portal to the spirit world appeared. Hastur and Sharron emerged a hundred miles from Trier, the capital of the Intis Republic.
They were on the main road leading to Trier. After waiting by the roadside for only a short while, Hastur paid ten gold coins to rent a carriage from a passing caravan and traveled with them toward Trier.
The currency of the Intis Republic was verl d'or and cope, and Loen Kingdom's gold pounds were not readily accepted here. Gold coins, however, retained their value.
These gold coins had been given to Sharron by Reinette Tinekerr before their departure.
Thinking about how Mr. Fool had worked so hard outside to earn this money, Hastur couldn't resist exchanging some of his money with Sharron for gold coins.
After all, spending the gold coins Mr. Fool had earned just felt especially satisfying.
The Cretton Caravan was a medium-sized caravan that specialized in traveling between coastal ports and the capital, Trier, earning profits from the price differences between regions.
Thanks to Emperor Roselle, the Intis Republic had extremely well-developed road infrastructure. Not only were steam train tracks spread throughout the country, but the main roads connecting the major cities were also very smooth. Even on rainy days, they wouldn't become uneven or muddy.
With such transportation infrastructure, commerce flourished throughout the Intis Republic. Almost every city had numerous caravans.
People generally divided these caravans into three categories according to size: large, medium, and small.
A small caravan only needed twenty people, while a medium-sized caravan required at least a hundred. As for a large caravan, it could only be established after traveling to Trier and obtaining royal approval.
It was said that Emperor Roselle had originally intended to combine caravans and mercenaries into a single organization called a mercenary group.
They would then be divided into seven ranks from highest to lowest: S, A, B, C, D, E, and F. In the end, however, the system was never implemented.
According to later experts' research, wars were still frequent during Emperor Roselle's era. If caravans had been granted the authority to independently recruit mercenaries, then a powerful mercenary group would possess both ample money and fighting personnel.
For the sake of national stability, such an organization could not be allowed to exist.
It was because of this consideration that Emperor Roselle separated caravans from mercenaries and stipulated that only official institutions could assign mercenaries to caravans, strictly controlling the number of personnel caravans could privately recruit.
Fortunately, the political situation in the Intis Republic was generally decent, and the relevant official institutions had not been overly harsh toward caravans.
However, as the situation on the continent changed over the past two years, official institutions in some cities had seized the opportunity to amass wealth, forcing many small and medium-sized caravans to disband.
Hastur learned all this while driving the carriage, listening to the people beside him talk.
"Our current consul only cares about his own reputation. He can't accomplish anything important, and he doesn't want to bother with minor matters either. Every day, all he knows how to do is put on superficial charity events. There are at least three to five of them every month."
"Today he calls for donations to the poor people on the northwestern border. Tomorrow he says life is difficult in the neighboring small country of Lenburg. The day after that, he starts worrying about the Kingdom of Feynapotter's grain production this summer…"
"Recently, they've been saying we're going to war with the Feysac Empire, but no one seems particularly enthusiastic about it. The entire aristocratic class, from top to bottom, acts as if they couldn't care less."
Mr. Byrne, who was riding slowly on horseback beside the carriage by himself, had nothing better to do and earnestly complained to Hastur about all sorts of matters concerning the Intis Republic.
Inside the carriage, Sharron could also hear the conversation outside, but she offered no opinion. She simply sat there quietly, like a real puppet.
It wasn't until night fell and the Cretton Caravan decided to set up camp nearby that she emerged from the carriage at Hastur's invitation.
Many people in the Cretton Caravan instinctively turned their gazes toward her before looking at Hastur with great envy.
Mr. Byrne, who had chatted extensively with Hastur, waggled his eyebrows at him and silently mouthed what seemed to be, "You're truly blessed to have a wife like that."
Faced with such envious gazes and quiet discussions, Hastur smiled broadly. He didn't explain anything and instead enthusiastically invited them to drink.
Naturally, Sharron was even less inclined to explain. She simply sat quietly beside the campfire, watching the flames sway gently as the wind stirred them.
The wind tonight wasn't strong and felt quite pleasant.
After staring at the flames for a while, Sharron's gaze inadvertently swept toward Hastur, who was chatting with the others.
After leaving the Loen Kingdom and traveling abroad, he seemed somehow more genuine.
Noticing her gaze, Hastur shook the plate of grilled sausages he had just gotten, walked over, and sat beside Sharron, gesturing for her to try some.
"Not bad." Sharron tasted a few bites and gave a favorable assessment.
"These grilled sausages taste much better than the ones in Backlund. This smoked meat is pretty good too."
Hastur also brought Sharron a serving of thick potato soup and some smoked meat. That was their dinner for the night.
As for himself, he spent a little money to get a cup of fruit wine from the caravan leader. Supposedly, it had been brewed according to notes left behind by Emperor Roselle.
There was no way to tell whether that was true, but it tasted pretty good.
Sharron merely took a small taste of the thick potato soup before setting down her spoon and calmly looking at Hastur.
Hastur naturally shifted his gaze away and said, "Should I get you some fruit wine? Or hot tea? Coffee?"
"You drink it." Sharron directly pushed the bowl of thick potato soup toward Hastur.
Looking at the thick mashed potatoes mixed with bright red tomato juice, diluted with water and seasoned simply, Hastur had absolutely no appetite for it.
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
Hastur sighed. If he had known this would happen, he wouldn't have brought the potato soup over to tease Sharron. Left with no choice, he steeled himself and drank more than half of it.
In the end, he really couldn't drink any more and could only claim that he was already full tonight. Sharron merely continued quietly eating the rather tasty grilled sausages and ignored Hastur.
After this little episode, Hastur and Sharron sat beside the campfire, chatting about what they had seen and heard that day. Sharron only occasionally added a few words.
A little after eight in the evening, just as the caravan members who had spent most of the day traveling were preparing to sleep, a figure emerged from the dense forest, disturbing the tranquility of the campsite.
The newcomer was a young man. He wore a white robe and was barefoot, with his full head of golden hair tied back by a golden headband.
A warm, gentle smile adorned his face, and his eyes were bright and spirited. Looking carefully into them gave one the illusion of stepping from the darkness of night into daylight.
A priest of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun?
That was Hastur's first impression of the young man. After examining him carefully for a moment, he increasingly felt that this person was not simple, so he stopped staring to avoid attracting his attention.
They were only twenty or thirty miles away from Trier now. Encountering a priest or bishop of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun here was perfectly normal.
After chatting briefly with the caravan leader, the young man received a plate of exquisite food.
Holding the plate, he glanced around before walking straight toward Hastur and Sharron.
Looking at the empty seat beside Hastur, he smiled and said, "You don't mind if I sit here, do you?"
"I do." Hastur smiled before continuing, "Sir, you should understand that on such a beautiful night, I only wish to spend my time with the beautiful young lady beside me. I really don't want anyone else disturbing our time alone. If you were ever young yourself, you should understand these little thoughts shared between a young man and woman."
The young man was visibly stunned for a moment before apologetically saying, "My apologies. I didn't consider that."
With that, he carried his plate piled with food over to an empty spot beside another campfire.
He seemed quite talkative. Even while eating, he chatted freely with the people nearby.Hastur withdrew his gaze and looked at the calm-faced Sharron. Chuckling softly, he said, "I wasn't lying just now. Being alone together really is more comfortable."
"Mm." Sharron merely nodded, her gaze returning to the flames leaping from the campfire.
Illuminated by the crimson firelight, Sharron's cheeks seemed to be tinged with a faint rosy glow.