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Men who heavily exuded the smell of earth were gathered in a tavern, chattering away. They were residents of a village not far from the Arten outpost.
"Seems like the empire's troops aren't coming these days."
"Isn't it better if they don't come?"
"Hmm, I guess so. I heard that people have been dying building that strange bridge of theirs, huh?"
"Yeah, even the butcher's eldest son went to earn some money and died."
Occasionally, imperial soldiers would come down to the village to recruit workers, but the last time that happened was three months ago.
"Burp, that was a good meal. I got the bill today," a portly man said as he stood up and.
"Again? Did you find a treasure chest or something while you were plowing the field?"
"Haha, how nice would that be? Well, I’m happy as long as we all enjoyed a good meal."
The portly man just laughed off the comments and left the tavern to stagger back to his home.
"My goodness! Did you drown yourself in booze again?"
The man's wife who had been waiting at home frowned as he walked in.
"Did you feed our precious little pot of gold?"
The man chuckled as he sat in a chair, throwing his coat carelessly on the floor.
The wife sighed, picking up the coat from the floor and hanging it on the wall.
"Honey, it still feels like a dream. Never in my life did I think I'd hold so many gold coins...
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