Chapter 13 Festival

Luna, so happy she felt as though she could fly, skipped and bounced along. But the instant she opened the door to leave her brother’s office and ran into Eileen, her face collapsed.

This wicked woman. If not for my loyalty, and if I were not afraid of disturbing Brother right now, I would...

Eileen calmly held out a gold coin, and Luna, who had still been baring her teeth and grimacing a moment ago, became obedient in a single second.

Ah, they were all good sisters. These things were only natural.

Her hand swept away the gold coin like an afterimage. Seeing Eileen raise a finger and make a shushing gesture in front of her lips, Luna nodded in perfect understanding.

She truly was poor. Her brother lived austerely, and although he would not cut her food, clothing, or daily necessities, and her clothes and jewelry were still of the finest grade, she truly had very little pocket money...

Otherwise, she would not have voluntarily run errands for Eileen and done messenger work.

One gold coin was seventy silver coins, and that was seven hundred copper coins! She had her pocket money for an entire year!

Before leaving, Luna patted her chest and did not forget to cutely make a heart gesture at Eileen. Come find me again for this kind of thing in the future. I, Luna, am righteousness itself.

Watching Luna joyfully leave the corridor, Eileen took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the Duke’s office.

“Enter.”

Eileen entered in response. Seeing that the Duke was frowning as he handled government affairs, she did not disturb him too much and quietly walked to the side, preparing black tea to soothe his mood.

“How are the preparations for the Prayer Assembly?”

As soon as Oswald looked up, he saw Eileen bringing over a teacup, so he reached out and took it.

Eileen bowed and replied, “Everything is ready. We did not exceed the budget, and the gift Your Grace prepared has also been arranged.”

“You have worked hard.” Oswald took a sip of tea, and his brows relaxed considerably. “The preparations for this sort of festival are the most mentally exhausting. But everyone has worked hard for many days, so they need a day like this to relax. Of course, the same goes for you. Tomorrow, there is no need to worry about work. Just enjoy the celebration.”

In his previous life, almost every country had a festival that belonged to the whole nation. Some represented reunion, while others represented the founding of the country. Research showed that the stronger the atmosphere of traditional festivals was and the more attractive those festivals were to the citizens, the more likely that country’s national power ranked among the world’s foremost.

But in this world... it seemed there was not even a single unified festival. Leaving other places aside, even the various cities and towns of the Northern Territory each had their own Victory Day.

Today, one city celebrated defeating the demon race in a certain battle fifty years ago. Tomorrow, another city commemorated the glorious deeds of a certain city lord. And for those cities whose historical military achievements could not be checked, they were even more ridiculous, actually using all kinds of legends to hold festivals.

It had quite the absurd feeling of, today marks the thirty-six-thousandth anniversary of Kua Fu passing through our place while chasing the sun.

Praying for the goddess’ blessing was one of the few celebrations that could include everyone. Although Oswald did not believe in such things, he still maintained respect. After all, this place truly did have a goddess—or rather, a Creator.

If humans truly created robots capable of independent thought, and humans then gave those robots freedom, would the robots also create a festival to pray for humanity’s blessing?

What would that count as? An artificial creation carnival?

Oswald, who tended to let his thoughts wander whenever he relaxed, nearly amused even himself. He quickly returned to his senses and said to Eileen, “Right, is the Sister feeling better? I would like to meet her and discuss tomorrow’s celebration arrangements.”

Eileen immediately replied, “I already explained the process to the Sister just now. Everything has been arranged. The Sister is probably taking a short rest at the moment.”

“Is that so?”

Oswald nodded and did not say anything more.

Sister Janice had also been an old friend in his previous life. She was a noble-minded person determined to realize equality, and her mastery of Holy Healing Magic was no inferior to the Saintess’.

The Prayer Assembly itself was a minor matter. The main reason Oswald had sought her out was to deal with the plague that would come in September this year.

Unlike the Church faction represented by the Saintess, which pursued miracles from the goddess, Sister Janice believed that if magic did not work, then one should seek methods in nature. If nature held no cure, then humans needed to help each other and overcome the difficulty together.

In fact, after the plague broke out, Sister Janice had once gone alone to its place of origin. Not only had she consulted a vast number of ancient texts, she had also visited several reclusive witches.

Heaven never failed those who worked hard. Under the guidance of one witch, Sister Janice eventually found the treatment for this plague in the records of the elven kingdom.

The long-lived species of this world were just as abstract as the male characters. As a long-lived species, elves were so bored that they were willing to do anything, including recording the developmental history of plagues...

Legend said that before the goddess left this world, she summoned the four great races she had created. Before bidding farewell, each race received a blessing and a curse from the goddess.

When it was the elves’ turn, the elves hoped the goddess would bless them with longevity.

The goddess agreed, but she did not place a curse on the elves.

The other races, including humans, were unhappy. Why? Why did the elves not have a curse?

The goddess said, “Longevity itself is a curse.”

At first, no one understood what she meant, until the suicide rate in the elven kingdom later soared in a straight line, forcing the elven higher-ups to create a kind of bloodline magic.

This magic took the entire elven race as its boundary and could only be lifted by leaving behind a bloodline. In other words, only elves who had left offspring could commit suicide.

Fortunately, that magic was invented quickly. Otherwise, elves would have become a rare species long ago. How could they still have preserved their own country?

However, most of the elves who had survived to the present were the type who could endure and see things clearly. They had already become living history in this world.

Returning to Sister Janice, after she brought back the treatment method, she discovered that its effects were not ideal, so she personally improved it into an extremely effective prescription.

Then, the Saintess’ Wishing Star activated...

What a pity. She had missed an opportunity to leave her name in history. But she herself did not care about such things. After handing the prescription to Oswald, she left alone.

Even more unfortunately, Oswald could not remember what the prescription was now!

Oswald had no choice but to carry this blame, whether he wanted to or not.

His skin was not thick enough to make Sister Janice make another trip. As for documents and materials recording the plague, he could just go buy them from the elves.

But those unbearably bored fellows seemed more interested in stories than money. When the time came, what kind of story should he copy down and exchange with them...?

The elves’ tastes seemed rather heavy.

“Eileen, how much do you know about elves?”

Eileen, who was suddenly called upon, jolted like a cat whose fur had puffed up. After she recovered, she let out a heavy sigh.

What in the world had His Grace been thinking about during that long silence? He had made her worry for nothing...

In the blink of an eye, the next day arrived.

Every member of the Ducal Estate had been given the day off. In twos and threes, they went out onto the streets to have fun early in the morning.

Prayer? What prayer? This was clearly a festival.

The tightly shut city gates were opened once again, and the entire city seemed brighter. Residents from every direction came rushing in from various places, and for a time, Ice City became extraordinarily lively.

The circus boss wiped tears all along the way. He was so happy, family. This was what a capital city should look like! As for its usual military fortress appearance, he was not familiar with that at all!

Banners fluttered throughout the city, and colorful streamers drifted in the air. Business at all the major restaurants was extremely booming. Aside from the sharp increase in foot traffic, the bigger reason was that the Ducal Estate had developed a cheap and high-quality alcoholic drink.

After all, where there was demand, there was a market.

After the workers knocked themselves down every few days with home-brewed alcohol, Eileen, unable to endure it any longer, wrote a letter to the Duke.

That was right. This was the gift Oswald had prepared for the people of his territory—new-style beer.

In his previous life, Oswald had brewed alcohol before. Fermentation, distillation, red liquor, white liquor—he had made them all, and everything had gone smoothly. Unexpectedly, however, he had gotten stuck on beer.

This world already had beer, but it was still in the crude additive-heavy stage. Even the Church was selling its exclusive formula: a great mess of various spices and other things.

All that could be said was that it was expensive, and the taste was strange.

Oswald understood as soon as he saw it. You people have not found hops... Wait, could this world not have hops?

Later, after finding a substitute similar to hops, Oswald had his own exclusive formula as well. Its flavor completely crushed those spiced beers, to the point that it sold well throughout the country, and even the dwarves specifically sent merchant caravans to purchase it.

This time, bringing out beer ahead of schedule was not only to let the residents enjoy themselves. Oswald’s main goal was still to quell Eileen’s anger.

Everyone should stop brewing alcohol privately from now on. This beer was already cheap enough, cheaper than buying raw materials yourselves!

Whoever brewed alcohol recklessly again in the future would have me to answer to.

“Whew, refreshing!”

Inside the noisy tavern, Oswald drained his beer in one gulp, then slammed the cup heavily onto the table. In excellent spirits, he took out his cigarettes and passed them around to the old fellows beside him.

“That assembly or whatever on your side, do you not need to watch over it?” Old George took a cigarette, swiped Oswald’s matchbox in one grab, and took a satisfied puff.

“Who has the time to watch that? I have been Duke for so long. Am I not allowed to enjoy myself?”

Oswald rolled his eyes at him, then laughed cheerfully again.

“What kind of enjoyment is this? Do you think I do not know you dog nobles? You must have good wine at home. Hurry up and take it out. Let this old man help you appraise it.”

After saying that, Old George grabbed him and tried to leave, only for Oswald to pull him back again.

“Sigh, those are for entertaining guests. Do you think I am some local rich tyrant? That fine wine all comes from the warm South. If I could produce it myself, would I possibly leave you lot out?”

“Enough. Having something to drink is already good. Come, I will buy you all a few more cups.”

Oswald had just dug two copper coins out of his pocket when Old George blew smoke all over his face.

“Be a little more generous, would you? You are still a Duke. Order another two dishes to go with the drinks.”

“Fine, fine, you old coot have so many demands. I will splurge this once. Order the dishes. Pick the most expensive ones.”