Iron Powder and Spellcasters

  Chapter 500 Rebuilding the Country (15)

  Girard Mitchell doesn't like sharing a table with strangers, but he looks around and sees that the other tables are already full, so he nods to the blond man.

   Obtained permission, the blond man nodded in thanks, and then sat down diagonally opposite Girard.

  But he didn't order any food or drink, but sat upright, with his left hand lightly resting on the hilt of his sword, and his eyes wandered between the harpist and other guests in the center of the side hall.

  In the noisy, dirty tavern, he looks out of place.

  The plump tavern proprietress walked over with her waist swaying, attracting the attention of the drinkers along the way. She winked at the handsome blond man, and her voice was so viscous that she was about to draw: "Little brother, do you want something?"

   "No." The blond man crossed his arms, turned his gaze to the side, and replied blankly, "Thank you."

   "Really don't want it?"

  The blond man replied firmly: "I don't need anything."

"Okay." The proprietress was rather disappointed. She glanced at the counter in the distance—the tavern owner had almost squeezed the oak wood countertop out of water. Heat: "If you want anything, you can come to me anytime."

  The blond man's cheeks were flushed.

  The proprietress giggled, shook her curvy buttocks, and went to entertain other guests again.

   It took a while before Mr. Mitchell old recovered from the shock.

  He shook his head self-deprecatingly, and joked to the young man on the other side of the table with a smile: "So there is a hostess in this store? I have been here for so many days, and every time it is the waiter who entertains me."

"Don't underestimate yourself, old sir." The blond man glanced at the hats on the table at the same table, and replied neither humble nor humble: "If you are willing to try, I think that lady with a great appetite will not refuse a Strong Dussack's."

  Gillard froze for a moment, followed the gaze of the blond man and landed on his cap.

  Old Dussack laughed heartily, and turned to greet the buddy: "Bring another glass! Another bottle of wine—bring the best!"

   Looking back, Girard smiled and asked the young man in front of him: "You are also Dusac? Then we should have a drink together."

   "Thank you for your kindness, but I'm not Dusak." The blond man still had an attitude of refusal, he pursed his lips, and although he was embarrassed, he still answered bluntly: "I don't have money to buy wine either."

  Girard felt more and more that the young man in front of him was interesting.

  The buddy quickly brought new glasses and wine, Girard poured the wine himself, and put it in front of the young man: "Can you give me, an old man, a chance to treat you to a glass of wine?"

  The kindness is hard to come by, the blond man solemnly bent down to express his thanks, then picked up the large wooden wine glass and sniffed it gently.

   "Too strong?" Girard said apologetically, "Outsiders are generally not used to drinking wine from the new land."

   "No." The blond man replied calmly, "Not strong enough."

  Girard laughed dumbfounded, and unconsciously showed the majesty of some elders: "Young man, don't talk big. Don't look at this shop as dilapidated, but his wine is the most vigorous in Maplestone City."

   "In some places, people can already separate extremely pure 'alcohol' from wine. That kind of thing can't even be drunk directly, it must be blended with water, otherwise it will kill you."

  The blond man stated calmly: "Only alcohol of that level deserves to be called spirits. Naturally fermented alcohol like this, even after simple distillation, is still not strong enough."

   After finishing speaking, the blond man drank down the tavern owner's favorite brew, and then put down the glass with a normal expression.

  Gillard couldn't help clapping the table to applaud, he laughed loudly: "Finally I found a qualified wine partner in Maple Stone City! I really want to have a good drink with you."

  But immediately, the corners of Girard's mouth drooped again, and he said with regret and loss: "But I have to go home tonight, and I can't drink too much."

   "That means someone is waiting for you." Hearing this, the blond man's expression became a little lonely, and he sincerely said to Old Dusak: "This is something to be envied. I envy you very much, old man."

   "Yes, it is indeed a great fortune." Girard was said to be the center of the matter, and he also expressed emotion.

  But he quickly regained his interest, and while pouring wine for the young man, he said with a smile: "But if you drink a few fewer glasses, it's not a problem. At most, you will be complained."

  Gillard asked curiously: "Listen to the accent, are you from the north?"

   Once again, the blond man couldn't help but sigh because the accent revealed his background: "Is it so obvious?"

   "It's not obvious, you already speak the Platonic dialect very well—better than me." Girard said with a smile on his face, "But I'm also from the north, and I heard you speak kindly, so I asked you."

The blond man half-closed his eyes and looked at the old Dusak: "I heard that thirty years ago, a group of Dusaks belonging to the Imperial Guard were captured by His Excellency Ned Smith and turned to Senas The Union swore allegiance. After the war, they were placed by Lord Ned Smith in…”

   "Placement in the new land." Girard pointed to himself and said openly: "Yes, I am one of them."

  Girard asked back: "Are you also from the military?"

  The blond man nodded.

   "Noble?" Girard asked again.

  The blond man became vigilant, and after a moment of silence, he reluctantly nodded.

   "Exile?" Girard continued to ask.

   This time, the blond man didn't answer. He smiled noncommittally: "Mr., do you want to marry your daughter to me?"

  As soon as Scarlett was mentioned, Girard was overwhelmed with melancholy, and he couldn't help sighing: "Oh, that's only if she is willing."

  The blond man heard what Old Dusac said, picked up the wine bottle and poured half a glass for the latter, and then poured another half for himself: "Your daughter is very lucky to have a father like you."

   "You are wrong, young man." Girard said reminiscently: "For a father, a daughter is the most precious gift from the Lord."

  A wry smile unconsciously appeared on the face of the blond man: "Perhaps, it is like this."

   "For every good father." Girard raised his glass.

  The blond man also raised his glass: "For every good father."

   The two clinked glasses heavily, and then drank happily.

  Meanwhile, the pianist is singing the climactic chapter of the story, which seems to be about the protagonist's desperate struggle with the King of the North—Girard is not paying attention.

  The pianist sang vigorously, but the drinkers couldn't bear his rough and loud voice, and booed one after another.

  However, the more the audience booed, the louder the pianist sang.

  Seeing this, the blond man put his left hand on the hilt silently.

  Gillard looked at the pianist wearing an exaggerated brimmed hat, and asked the young man in front of him puzzledly: "Your employer?"

   "My friend." The blond man replied.

   "That's right." Girard said in relief: "I'll just say, how can a luthier who sings so badly be able to hire such a good player as you."

  The blond man, who was as calm as ice before, showed a shameful expression when he heard this.

  He explained embarrassingly: "Actually... the real singer is another person. It's just that she has a place to live tonight, so the only ones who come out to perform are the two of us."

   "Then you don't want him to sing anymore." Girard looked at the dissatisfied drinkers around: "If you sing any more, not only will you not be able to make money for tonight's accommodation, but you will also have to pay for the tables and chairs."

  The resentment of the drinkers intensified because of the piano player's ignorance. People began to beat the table, booed, and yelled to tell the piano player to leave.

   Some people threw things at the piano player, but the latter deftly dodged them, and the sound of the piano continued.

   "If I can stop him." The blond man sighed softly: "We won't be reduced to performing on the street."

  The sound of slapping the table gradually converged into a tidy muffled sound from being chaotic.

   "What the **** are you singing?" Someone was yelling: "It's so **** ugly!"

   "Get off!" someone shouted.

   "Hit him!" someone yelled, "Hit the fuck!"

  Among the deafening chaotic noise, a timid drake voice came in from the door: "Who is Siegfried? Why are you singing about him? Can you sing something else?"

  However, no one expected that it was this almost covered voice that made the pianist stop.

  The pianist took a deep breath and shouted, "Quiet!"

  The earth-shattering roar almost lifted the roof, and instantly silenced the drinkers who were still booing just now.

  Seeing that the people around were covering their ears in pain, the pianist nodded in satisfaction.

  He held the hat in his hand, exposing his head with slightly thinning hair, bowed in the direction of the entrance in a graceful manner, and asked kindly, "What do you want to hear?"

  Three men, two old and one young, stood at the entrance of the tavern. The one who spoke just now was the youngest half-child among them.

   "I want to hear the story of the blood wolf." The half-child mustered up his courage and replied loudly: "I want to hear "Battle of the Styx"!"

  The drinkers heard the words and booed and echoed: "Yes! Listen to the blood wolf!"

   "Uh." This time it was the pianist's turn to be embarrassed, and he said shyly, "The Battle of Styx, I can't."

  The middle-aged man was very disappointed, and asked again: "What about "Blood Clay War"?"

   "The battle of blood and mud is fine." The drinkers booed again: "The battle of blood and mud is fine too!"

  The pianist was even more embarrassed: "I'm sorry, I don't know how to play "Blood Clay" either."

"What other people know, why are you the only one who doesn't know anything?" There was already three points of contempt in the eyes of the half-sized boy, and he shook the booklet in his hand: "Then the latest one? "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth", you know ?"

  The drinkers immediately became interested.

  You know, the most popular story in Maple Stone City now is "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth".

   This story, which was originally published in the "Newsletter", became very popular once it was published.

  As a "notice" to the public, each issue of the "Newsletter" will be posted on the bulletin boards of cities, villages and towns in the newly reclaimed land.

  When it was first issued, because people often stole the "Newsletter", the governments of various places had to send special personnel to guard the bulletin boards where the "Newsletter" was posted.

  But as time went by, the novelty gradually faded, and now few people steal "Communication" anymore.

  Those who wanted to take the "Newsletter" home and read it carefully, mostly transcribed it on the spot, or simply bought a booklet that was printed separately.

   However, since "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" was published in the "Newsletter", the "good old days" of the past have returned immediately.

  Limited by the size of the paper, "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" could not be released on the "Newsletter" at one time, and had to be published in chapters.

   This is considered to have scratched the itch of the people in the new reclamation land. The "Newsletter" was posted on the bulletin boards in various places. Post one, throw away one, post two, and throw away a pair.

   There was even a dumbfounding anecdote that "before the messenger responsible for posting the "Newsletter" arrived, several groups of people who wanted to steal the "Newsletter" had already fought in front of the bulletin board.

  The distribution department of the "Newsletter" had to urgently remove "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth" from the "Newsletter" and print it separately.

  The storytellers in the bazaars all over the country have recently stopped telling the old-fashioned stories of "Mayar kings" and turned their heads to tell "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth".

  The most famous troupe in Fengshi City is also rehearsing a new play based on the story of "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth".

  So when a half-child asked, "Can you talk about "Escape from the Tiger's Mouth", the drinkers immediately became interested.

  However, the pianist once again disappointed everyone: "I don't know how to escape from the tiger's mouth as you said."

   "Then what will you do?" The drinkers were angry: "Get out! Get out!"

   Spoons, forks, wine glasses, rotten fruit, hard bread with tooth marks... once again flying under the roof of the tavern.

   "Wait a minute." The lute player yelled while holding his head and dodging, "I will tell the story of 'Reynard the Fox and the Lioness'."

   Upon hearing the lioness, the tavern quickly fell silent. The drinkers understood and stopped making noise.

   "Let him talk!" someone said.

   "Let's talk!" The crowd made a messy voice: "Let's talk."

  The middle-aged man at the door curiously asked the middle-aged man beside him: "Dad, what is the story of Reynard Fox?"

  The middle-aged man with a face as hard as granite had an unnatural expression. He said awkwardly, "It's a little too early for you."

   "Oh, brother Matiya." Another fat middle-aged man said with a smile: "It's getting late, and it's time to let Raul know what he should know."

   After finishing speaking, the middle-aged man looked at the middle-aged man and joked, "Don't you want to know the story of Reynard Fox? Let's find a seat and listen to it, okay?"

  At the same time, the pianist cleared his throat, moved the lute, and told "the story that Reynard the fox and the lioness had to tell" with an exaggerated expression.

  The blond man turned his head and covered his face, pretending not to know the pianist.

  Girard laughed.

   Just as Girard was about to pour another glass of wine for the young man, a flattering voice sounded beside him.

  Gillard raised his head and found that the three-person group of two old and one young who had just stood at the door had come to his table.

   "Man, the other places are full." The fat middle-aged man asked with a smile, "Can we sit at the same table as you?"

   [Today [The Story of Reynard Fox], as a well-known children's book, has been published all over the world]

   [However, in the Middle Ages, the original version [The Story of Reynard Fox] has a lot of 18+ plots, including but not limited to adultery///rape, rape///violence, N//T//R, etc.]

   [Today's Reynard, to the original Reynard. Just like today's Grimm's fairy tales, the original versions of dark fairy tales told by people in the Middle Ages and Renaissance period by the fireside and in the tavern]

   [When the audience heard the lioness, they immediately understood. It's because the lioness has been the embodiment of sexuality since antiquity. The ancient Romans believed that the lioness was lewd and the male lion was chaste, and the leopard was the illegitimate child born after the lioness cuckolded the male lion]

   [So the cheetah leopard is the lion leo+pard]

   [The female wolf is also the incarnation of desire. In ancient Rome, the female wolf lupa was a synonym for a prostitute//female, and lupanar is naturally a prostitute//house]

   [So everyone can know why some people dare to call Winters "Blood Wolf", but no one dares to call Winters "She-Wolf" in front of Winters and Anna]

   [At the very beginning, the name [she wolf] appeared with a slight derogatory meaning, because at that time, people outside the army, although they obeyed Winters, did not really respect Winters]

   [However, as the plot progresses, [she wolf] is gradually replaced by [wolf queen] and [madame]]

   [The plot of the last two chapters has been pushed slowly, I'm sorry, I will try to write more substantial chapters in the next few chapters]

[thank you all]

  (end of this chapter)