Weed once again returned to the square to obtain more workers.
“Pick pick! Cheap pindaetteog!”
“Armor for sale. A piece of work by Warlord Olsen! Who is Olsen? Just me. A Blacksmith that fully understands steel.”
“Looking for a person that knows where Rubelin is! Is there a guide to go with to catch the Blue Beetle? I’ll even compensate.”
The square was in turmoil with people trying to deal at the stalls, obtaining colleagues, asking questions regarding information on the terrain or things for quests.
Busily moving feet and face filled with energy. Comparing to the Central continent, there was a lack of goods; but the spirit of adventure and vitality of life was nothing short of.
The blue collar jobs were festive as well.
The Monsters in Morata’s vicinity never dries out.
Monster’s head that is covered with green fish-like scales.
Crocodile monster that walks on two legs.
As the day warms up and the coming rain, new Monsters will spawn.
“Kui. Kuii!”
“Pwapapwa!”
Emerging weapons and armors using Monsters’ materials made by the craftsmen sold like hot cakes.
“By making these, I gain money and skills proficiency too.”
“Here, this place is heaven.”
The artisans were ingenuity without any distraught.
***
Mishya bought a rod from them for Staff Techniques.
“Ah, feels really good.”
She twirled it to her heart content. There was no hiding her excitement.
Recalling the first time when she bought the latest rod and was in the mood for her first hunt!
She received praises from her colleagues as she overpowers the Monsters.
Rods were longer than swords, and were useful for defense. Along with sharing about 80% of Lancing Skills, of which were widely diverse with a huge range of weapons.
When she tried to leave the center square, Mishya met Weed.
“Eek!”
It was like a school girl screaming when meeting with a pervert!
“Morata Lord!”
Mishya’s words were able to pull the attention of the people who were absorbed in their own affairs.
“Sculptor Weed.”
“Morata’s Lord has returned.”
“Wait, he doesn’t have the Murderer mark. It’s gone. His name no longer shows.”
Momentarily, the crowd all noticed that the noticeably crimson mark has disappeared.
“Ya ya. Watch your words. You’re talking about the Lord of Morata here.”
“Morata’s Lord! Ack, you’re right, I forgot.”
“A wrong word toward a Noble or a guild Master spells death, you know.”
“Lower your voice. Be careful.”
Creator of the Pyramid and the Light Tower, the Lord of Morata Weed!
In Morata, whether they’re of the trading or of the hunt, people can’t help but be wary of Weed. If they somehow seemed to be opposing in the Lord’s eyes, he can mobilize the province's entire army just for the sake of punishment. Of course, these were the cases of those who weren’t residents of Morata.
Weed looked at the square filled with people.
Because of the developments in Morata, a lot of people coming to visit meant that the town was a nice place to live.
Weed wasn’t just its loving Lord, he was just as much a user and its resident.
‘My lovely tax piggies.’
Whether they were users or the residents, he saw them as money.
Due to it being the middle of the day, a dramatic influx of users could be seen.
These people concerning about their commerce made the market an uproar.
“The method of a good ruler is to only to reveal himself during the tough times. I’m the Lord of Morata, Weed, who have made all the governing decisions. I welcome all those who have gathered.”
The reaction of the users gathered in the square wasn’t all that welcoming.
“Che, what kind decisions have you make? Every decision was done by the grandpa Elder alone. You were just playing somewhere else and just returned.”
“Earlier you were ripping people off selling the stuff.”
“I thought you were selling at the listed price but it seems to be a stretch. 'Cause comparing to the friend who knows of the right price, it wasn’t even off by a few. So why didn’t you offer the information to those who didn’t know?”
The users were getting more agitated with the increase in murmuring.
In a short period of time, he became the subject of their distrust, their Lord!
Weed can understand the suffering of politicians during those 10 minutes.
'Here, I have to be a bit more vulgar and cunning. I thought it was going to be easy tricking them by feeding them a bit. Here as well, only those that want an honest living life loses out.'
He broke out a Yell in order to quell the increasing disturbance.
“Keu..ha.heu..heuu heump! Uhh, I have a Religious Quest in Morata. I need helpers to create a colossal statue for the Freya Church. Unlimited number of people, providing free room and board! Accepting those who would work for the whole duration.”
Gathering as much workers as he can was a good thing for Weed.
But he would only take those that could shoulder the responsibility.
For the people who were busying trading, manufacturing, hunting, it wasn’t for them. Because then, the production of the statue would just be leisure work!
In aspect, those who have never participated didn’t know how much compensation there were for the sculpture quest.
“Me! I’ll do it!”
Then from behind, there was a number of beginners!
Supposedly, they were tourists, but they were those from Rosenheim Kingdom who had a hand in making the Pyramid.
Or users who heard from these guy came running together.
“If you have Porridge then I’ll join!”
“What are you going to create this time?”
“Do you remember me? I’m Lemon!”
The cute girl seemed to still be in her mid teens.
Weed navigated within himself to remember and showed her his rotten smile.
“Ahh, of course I remember. You’re the Lemon nim that moved stones 39 times to build the Pyramid. I will offer my porridge as well as Gopaegi too.”
“Yes! That’s right!”