Back at the warehouse, Salt and the others were sitting listlessly in the guest room of the warehouse.
"Sart, things are not going well, are they?"
"Yes, sir, there are no shops in the city willing to take over our southern goods."
I already knew about this situation just now. Lucese's guild wants to strangle us. They have formed an alliance to boycott our southern goods."
Sart's mood suddenly fell to the bottom after hearing Art's words.
"Sir, even the situation in Lucese is so bad, I'm afraid Besancon..." Salter no longer has hope for Besancon.
"Sir, shall we ask Bishop Olof to come forward personally to help us tide over the difficulties?" Ron instinctively thought of asking the bishop to come forward to coordinate.
Art looked around at the people in the room and said: "The Bishop is the last antidote. We should not disturb the Bishop unless it is absolutely necessary."
"Besides, it is definitely not the best strategy for merchants to use power to suppress them. I have asked the steward of our store to make an appointment with the head of the guild. We will wait until we see people and understand the situation. As long as the conditions we offer are generous enough, I will I believe that they will not always be our enemies."
At simply stopped thinking about it, raised his head and told Salter: "Sart, you don't have to run around in the afternoon. You go to the city to find a lively tavern in the afternoon, and then prepare a table of sumptuous food and wine. I want to entertain Sir William."
"Sir, now that the caravan is in dire straits, are you still holding a banquet?"
“There is a reason why I invited Sir William to a banquet. Just do it.” Art replied without any doubt.
Sart thought that Sir William was Bishop Olof's personal religious bodyguard, and instantly understood Art's intention.
...
That evening, Art led Saltron, Felix and a group of others to hold a private banquet for Sir William at the most luxurious and lively tavern in the city of Lucesien. Ater and the others accompanied Sir William and laughed until late at night before sending William back to the church.
Back to the warehouse, the waning moon has set in the sky.
At sent a bowl of broth to suppress the alcohol, and listened to Kenem's report on contacting the guild leader.
“Sir, I can’t say it during the dinner. The head of the guild refused to meet you at first. He insisted that you were here to disrupt the Northland and Southland goods market. Later, I hinted at your relationship with Bishop Olof, and he reluctantly agreed to meet you. However, he couldn’t make it because he was busy with work recently. I have no time, so I didn’t agree on a specific meeting time. "
"If he can't spare time to see us, then we will take the initiative to find him. Do you know if there is a place where this leader frequents? Maybe we can wait for him." Art asked.
"In addition to going out for business, he spends most of his time in the guild hall, but I'm afraid it would be inappropriate for us to rush to the guild hall..."
"Besides the guild hall, is there any place he frequents in private?"
Kenem thought about it for a while and replied: "He seems to like underground fighting very much, and from time to time he will go to an underground fighting arena outside the city to watch the fighting." br/> 就在屋中几人商议如何会见行会首脑的时候，屋外不起眼的角落里一个黑影刚刚消失在转角处......
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抵达卢塞斯恩的第三天傍晚，亚特带着萨尔特、罗恩、菲利克斯及其肯奈姆几人来到了城外西南的一处废墟之中。
This ruins was a large colosseum from the imperial city-state era thousands of years ago. After thousands of years of dilapidation, only large fragments of walls remain here. However, although some of the buildings on the ground have collapsed and been destroyed, the underground part of the Colosseum has survived, so it became a place where the rich and free citizens sought bloody excitement.
Coming to the underground entrance of the Colosseum, two strong men who looked like guards stood here holding axes. An old man with a goatee sat behind a broken wooden table. Anyone who entered the underground arena must first pay an admission tax of one pfenni.
Ron walked to the entrance, took out a few copper coins and threw them on the broken table.
The old man with the goatee picked up the copper coins and put them into a wooden box. He glanced at the Art and the others who were wearing armor and holding swords behind Ron, and lazily ordered: "This is the place of Lord Delray (a noble in the city). You can't cause trouble after entering."
As soon as he stepped into the underground arena, the mud on the ground was covered with feces and vomit, and he was greeted by bursts of bloody and rotten smells. Boiling and noisy came from the dark underground arena, and the burning flames on the corner pillars danced amidst the loud shouts and cheers. Dozens or hundreds of crazy citizens and gladiatorial enthusiasts crowded around the arena. On the open space on the patio stone slab in the middle of the arena, two "gladiators" were fighting.
These so-called "gladiators" were mostly young slaves and prisoners of war who were trafficked. They were used by their slave owners to provide people with their lives for stimulation. Of course, there are also many free mercenaries and rangers who make a living by making money with weapons.
I saw a "Gladiator" being knocked down to the ground and blood was spurting out from his mouth. The screams of the crowd watching the battle became even more fierce. The side that gained the advantage was shocked by the screams and shouts of the crowd. It took a few steps back and rushed towards the guy lying on the ground. Then he stood up and bent his elbow to hit the guy on the ground with blood. His elbow broke the throat of the guy on the ground. The poor guy on the ground twitched and struggled for a while before becoming motionless...
“Haha, our warrior Joel won. Congratulations to the gentlemen who placed bets for Joel, you have made a lot of money again.” A short, fat, ugly man with buck teeth and a pockmarked face jumped into the open space of the courtyard and raised the right hand of the "gladiator" who had just killed someone.
There was a burst of cheers from the crowd, and several arena guards came up and dragged away the bloody corpses on the ground.
"Everyone, the next person to appear is the warrior Jafar from the distant holy land of Homs. The page hammer in his hand has smashed six heads. Today, the warrior Jafar will single out three strong men, and the bet will be three to one..." The short, fat, ugly man walked back and forth in the field to hawk.
At this time, a tall, muscular guy with a thick beard and black hair walked slowly from a dark corner to the middle of the arena with his bare upper body and a hammer in his hand.
Walking to the open arena, this guy glanced at everyone with his sunken eyes, pulled a cross from his neck with his left hand and raised it high.
Following Jafar were three big men holding hammers and axes.
"Jafar! Jafar!!" The short, fat, ugly man raised his arms and shouted to stir up the atmosphere.
"Jafar!!"
"Ja'far!!!"
There were cheers from the crowd. It was obvious that this "gladiator" named Ja'far had a high reputation.
"Guys who want to make money, what are you waiting for!! Hurry up and place your bets." The short, fat and ugly man took advantage of the excitement of the crowd and quickly asked everyone to place their bets.
The crowd watching the battle all bet on Jafar, the warrior with "excellent record"...
Matt's eyes moved away from the gladiator and looked around the independent boxes on the second floor of the arena, hoping to see the guild leader in the seats reserved for the powerful to watch the battle.
Art turned his eyes to Kenem, and Kenem shook his head, "Sir, maybe he will arrive after a while."
"Okay, let's wait for a while."
"You have to wait anyway, do you want to place a bet on that guy? Ron, you place a bet on that guy for me." He took out his wallet and took out six small silver coins and handed them to Ron.
Ron and Felix, who loved the excitement the most, also took out a few silver coins and squeezed into the crowd to place a bet on the warrior Jafar.
"Sart, don't you two try your luck? I think that guy is very strong."
Salt and Kenem looked at each other and smiled: "Sir, we are not interested in this kind of bloody gladiatorial battle."
"Okay, just go to the door and keep an eye on the leader, and call me when he arrives later."
The fighting in the arena had already begun. After Art finished speaking, Ron and others squeezed into the crowd.
The fights in the arena are bloody but truly exciting.
Most of those who can survive through the profession of gladiatorial combat are strong and powerful people. They are either defeated and captured warriors or mercenaries who rely on swords for food. Compared with these gladiators, the group fights between rogues are like wild dogs biting each other. That's why the fight between them can attract these bloody thrill-seeking people to scream and take out their coins.
"Sir, I think we will definitely win this three times the bet. That guy must be from the army. You can see that almost every move he makes is fatal."
At looked at Jafar who was fighting with three opponents in the field. After a few rounds, he had successfully knocked down a strong man holding a broadaxe.
Just when everyone was cheering and thinking that the victory was determined, an accident happened.
The hammer in Jafar's hand that was hitting his opponent suddenly broke. Before he could react, another opponent had already picked up the hammer and smashed it into his head.
Hunting sideways to dodge, the opponent's heavy hammer smashed into the air, and then took a few steps back to put a few steps away from the opponent.
"Weapons, tampered with." Jafar shouted in broken Burgundian to the steward outside the venue who was presiding over the gladiator.
Jafar knew that someone must have tampered with his page hammer, otherwise this weapon that had been with him in battles for many years would not be broken so easily.
"Weapon - there is a problem - change it!" Jafar looked at the steward outside the venue and shouted again.
The two strong men opposite Jafar glanced at the gladiator steward with a questioning look, because according to convention, gladiators have the right to ask for replacement of weapons when their weapons are accidentally damaged.
This is a normal weapon damage, the battle continues! ▼
The two strong men acquiesced, smiled at each other, and dragged their axes and heavy hammers towards the unarmed Jafar.
Jafar had something bad in his mind, and he circled around with his two opponents and retreated step by step to the corner where Ater and the others were standing.
"Unfair!" Felix yelled.
"Yes, that's not fair!!" Ron echoed Felix.
"Unfair! Unfair! Unfair!" There were protests from the crowd.
The gladiator steward ignored the protests from the crowd. It seemed that he had taken the bets of the spectators.
Matt did not follow the crowd's booing. He sideways unhooked the warhammer from Ron's waist and threw it directly to Jafar's side.
Jafar turned his head and glanced at Art behind him, leaned over and picked up the war hammer on the ground, sneered and rushed towards the two opponents...