When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 614 - 577 Pantsless Man

"Take a look, take a look!"

"Manuscript, illustrated manuscript of the 'Post Gospel,' selling at a low price."

"Say again how much it costs to shoe a horse? Are you sure you didn't add an extra zero?"

The bustling voices still rise in the dim golden glow of Huaqiu City, as a priest in a black robe hurries down the street carrying books.

The shops on both sides of the street have taken down their boards, starting to pour out waste water and chamber pots into the river or alleyways.

Drunken gamblers and drinkers rub their heads as they climb up from the street, stumbling their way home.

It's been more than two weeks since the Thousand River Valley War ended, yet the distant war has made no impact on the prosperous Falan Royal Capital, not even stirring a few ripples.

The biggest impact, perhaps, is the many gamblers jumping into the river.

They emptied out all their possessions, even pawned their wives and children to bet on Prince Kongdai's victory, thinking the Thousand River Valley War was just a replay of the Great Winter Rebellion.

Once the Church Holy Knights arrived, the rebellion would immediately become dust!

What's there to say? The whole family went all in short-selling, trusting the edict chain, trusting Prince Kongdai, and shot all the crossbow arrows!

But to their great surprise, the outcome was nearly Prince Kongdai's total defeat.

Who could have imagined that those farmers, those farmers who could barely stand, would overthrow nine edict chains and the renowned Leia general, Prince Kongdai?

Almost every morning, the corpse collectors downstream of the Empress River drag a few bodies from the turbulent river under the bridge, bodies with gambling tickets and farewell letters in their waistcoat pockets.

But the corpse collectors are pleased, as they charge for body retrieval.

The dawn light shines on their sparse hair as they happily collect dinars from the disdainful glances of nearby riverbank residents, then push a few bodies on a small cart towards the mass grave outside the city.

Crossing the new bridge built by the former King Chanos V, one can see two- and three-story buildings with white walls and blue tiles.

The corpse collectors look up, feeling that as the land prices in Huaqiu City continue to rise, buildings are built taller and taller.

Especially with students coming from all over the Empire to study, driving up the housing prices around Huaqiu New Bridge University.

Approaching the small square near the university, they keep their hat brims low, not daring to look at those favored students of New Bridge University.

If a conflict arises, the judge will only put them in shackles and display them in a cage, a truth concluded by these lowly corpse collectors.

So every time they pass by, they walk quickly to avoid any conflict with these students.

"Ah!"

A stone flew through the air, hitting a corpse collector's calf, causing him to curl up in pain.

The leading corpse collector looked up in anger, only to see a few robed, drunken students, each holding a pile of stones in their arms.

Though they were laughing, the malice in their eyes was undeniable.

The next moment, stones rained down, falling on the corpse collectors with a crackling sound.

"Run, run! You lowly scoundrels!"

"Look, look at them, I'm laughing so hard my stomach hurts."

"Hahaha, take my crossbow arrow!"

Bouncing along with their cart, a few corpse collectors covered their heads, dodging left and right, screaming as they finally made it past the small square, escaping the stone attack.

Rolling up their sleeves and pants, they looked at the bruises, muttering curses under their breath, still helplessly pushing the cart carrying the bodies forward.

The conflict between out-of-town students and local residents is an enduring topic in Huaqiu City, even leading to a group of students leaving to form the Upper River Island Royal University.

Purposefully progressing in dirty alleys, passing through passages piled with garbage, excrement, and sludge, the Old Bridge finally appears in sight.

Crossing the Old Bridge leads to the swamp area of South City, a place where ordinary well-off citizens would not venture.

This was once a wasteland of forest and swamp, also the camp of the farmer rebel army during the Great Winter Uprising.

Back then, though the Knights routed their army, they certainly couldn't let the noble Knights crawl into the fetid woods to hunt down the remnants, right?

The remaining thousands of farmers have neither homes to return to nor livelihoods; the only things they possess are the chain hammers and chainmail they looted during the war.

They immediately turned into bandits, starting to rob travelers and caravans entering Huaqiu City.

In fact, the King of France is fully capable of cleaning them up, but he takes the opportunity to deliberately not wipe them out, forcing merchants to pay for the construction of a new bridge on the west side.

Thus, the Old Bridge District, formerly intertwined with old forces and old nobles, began to wither little by little, while the newly constructed New Bridge area from scratch became the jewel in the King of France's hand, giving birth to a batch of submissive new nobles.

As for the area near the old bridge, it became a settlement for hooligans, bandits, laborers, beggars, and the Secret Faction.

Unlike in the city, here are grayish-yellow low cottages and shacks everywhere.

At the edges of church and mansion ruins, you can always see the roaming Liu Ying.

Residents with crooked mouths and crooked teeth wear straw hats, planting forbidden herbs with fences in their backyards, and sometimes even Secret Party Wizards raise piranhas in ponds.

At least five hundred alchemists and wizards live in the Old Bridge District; sometimes a black market event can gather two or three thousand people, but Demon Hunters always turn a blind eye.

But compared to the prosperity and peace of North City, the corpse collectors crossing the bridgehead of the Old Bridge were relieved.

South City is different from North City; as long as you abide by the rules in South City, you won't face any difficulties.

While in North City, harassing these lowly folks is the unspoken rule.

"Moroka, chief." The wheels rolled over the bridge boards, and the leading corpse collector took off his hat and bowed to the strong men by the bridge, "I've paid this month's bridge toll."

"I know you, go ahead." The bearded strong man was chatting with friends, waving his hand carelessly.

These strong men are mostly descendants of the uprising farmers; due to poverty, they mostly just wear a robe reaching to the calves, not wearing pants underneath, hence contemptuously called "Pantsless Men."

Pantsless Men are laborers when busy, bandits when idle.

They mainly engage in extorting travelers, collecting protection fees, and smuggling; because the cost of a crackdown far exceeds the benefit, sheriffs do not act unless things get too out of hand.

Having received a response, several corpse collectors pushed the cart forward, but after just two steps, the strong man named Moroka called them to stop again.

"Stop, I heard one of you is from Thousand River Valley? Who is it?"

Several corpse collectors exchanged glances and pushed an honest young man forward; the young man stumbled ahead, standing before the much larger strong man, looking like a well-behaved little rabbit.

"What's your name?"

"Kuvasz, my name is Kuvasz, chief Moroka." The young man held his hat against his chest, unsure of why this bigwig had called him.

"Very well, Kuvasz, I've remembered you. Do you have any relatives in Thousand River Valley?"

Though puzzled, Kuvasz responded nervously, bending his back: "Yes, I have an uncle, but he has several children at home, with nothing to eat, so I fled here."

"Have you heard of a name called Horn? Hmm? Horn Gallar, have you heard of him?"

Kuvasz was even more confused: "No, I do know some mountain folks with the surname Gallar, it's a common surname among them, I'm from Kasha County, not very familiar."

"Alright then." Moroka heavily patted Kuvasz's shoulder with his big hand, "Go back; someone will come for you tonight."

The young man hurried away anxiously, while Moroka spoke to his nearby brother: "In the evening, gather those Thousand River Valley refugees together, and you lead a team to the Thousand River Valley and see if that guy is telling the truth, if he is, buy a house or shop."

"You mean the Prime Minister will act against us?" The man with a goatee suddenly expressed surprise.

"The Old Bridge District is a good place, and the old nobles have moved away; now the population of Huaqiu City is increasing and land prices are getting higher. You think Lorenzo will ignore our territory?" Moroka touched the pocket on his chest, "Make plans early."

That long-bearded man frowned: "But can they withstand the Leia Kingdom's attack?"

"Better than staying at the Old Bridge, right? Anyway, let's make more backup plans, we're not necessarily going to Thousand River Valley; at least in the Thousand River Valley, we don't have to hide our identities; getting caught elsewhere would be disastrous."

Watching his brother's departing back, Moroka looked back at the low, stinky settlement, unable to suppress a sigh.

He pulled a folded paper from his pocket, gazing at the "Thousand River Valley Declaration" on the paper, and couldn't help but recite quietly: "...children of former nobles and peasants singing together... haha..."

Shaking his head, Moroka didn't know whether he should believe or not, as he put the paper back into his chest, he stared at the golden sun rising beyond the tall tower of the Summer Palace.

"A country founded by farmers..." It seemed like he recalled the late ramblings of his ancestors, and for the first time, hope and uncertainty appeared in the eyes of this black overlord: "Thousand River Valley..."