Chapter 797: Chapter 32: The Day of the Duel

July 1st, Capital City, East District.

After days of rain, it finally paused last night. The morning air still carried lingering moisture. Overnight, the rain that hadn’t dried froze on walls and roads, with the rising sun casting a golden glow over the ice from afar.

Bang! The wheel of the handcart dropped off the step, shattering a piece of ice. The orange-haired cart pusher stepped on the ice shards and almost slipped. He cursed softly twice and turned to shout, “Capro! What are you dawdling for?”

“Coming, big brother! I accidentally dropped one just now.”

Capro carried the last few jars, carefully placing them on the cart, the green hair on his head trembling in the cold wind, making him seem rather foolish. He nervously glanced at the cart full of goods—fake antiques made from scrap furniture collected from the dumpster—and whispered, “Hey, Tierlos, shouldn’t we just sell the dirty magazines again? If we get caught, it’s fraud charges and possibly jail time… Ow, don’t hit me.”

“You swine, you slug!” Tierlos smacked his subordinate’s forehead harshly, “How stupid must you be to think of selling Morton’s scandalous stories on the day patriotic feelings are highest? If the police don’t come, the tourists in the Inner City will smash your stall first! Today, we must sell dignified things, understand?”

“Oh oh oh.” Capro nodded repeatedly, exerting himself to push the cart from behind.

The two headed toward the narrow alley’s exit. The chilly air seeped into the hole on the side of the orange-haired man’s down jacket, causing him to shiver. It was a tear made while moving goods yesterday, and even patched, it wasn’t secure. So damn unlucky; once the money comes in these days, he must get a new one…

Or perhaps wait two more months for the season change discounts? He thought, but the money might not last that long. Life goes day by day; who knows what summer will bring. Better think of the present and buy first.

“Big brother, my boot has a hole…”

“Overcome it with your knightly spirit,” Tierlos mocked, “Or else hurry back to switch to flat shoes.”

“You’re mocking me again.”

Capro grumbled as he returned to their rundown house to change shoes. Tierlos patted the ice shards on the wall and leaned aside for a while. Outside the alley, an elderly man was cleaning up the remaining ice, and a group of burly men in theatrical costumes stepped over the ice chip, each wearing a comical mask.

“Hey, fellows!” He casually struck up a conversation, “Parade troupe?”

The leading man paused upon hearing, didn’t remove the mask, and replied slowly but cheerfully, “Morn-…! We-… rush for the morning parade, first day-… the biggest crowd.”

Tierlos chuckled, “A hired troupe worrying about audience size? Isn’t it all a flat fee?”

Every year around this time, streets were packed with various celebrations. Main roads were often crowded with official performance troops and knights’ ranks, while areas outside planning held various street performances, with theatrical shows being the most popular. Tierlos thought these people must be foreigners hired by a company or non-profit to liven things up. After all, local actors often wanted a break and not take gigs, while foreign troupes were happy to take the job, earning a handsome fee and getting to travel.

“Performing… always happier with more audience.” The burly man, speaking a rustic United accent, said a sentence in imperfect Country dialect, “Must… leave now… Holy King bless you, fellow.”

Tierlos couldn’t help but laugh, correcting him, “Holy King protect you. Good luck!”

“Ha… ha…”

The man from the troupe laughed heartily and strode away. Capro, having changed shoes, hurried over, panting as he pushed the cart.

“Big brother, I still don’t get it. Can we really sell these junky things…”

Tierlos quickly switched his tone, “This is why you’re dumb! Today is the once-a-year big commercial opportunity; even trash painted in national flag colors has dunces gladly buying them.”

“Why?”

“The gentlemen feel patriotic! They’re willing to spend!”

The handcart exited the alley, Tierlos wiped the sweat from his forehead, and looked up. As they spoke, the sun had fully risen, its warm light illuminating the winter-studded Capital City. At that moment, the East District’s bell chimed, announcing the dawn of a new day to the Capital’s citizens. Flags lined the streets, fluttering in the morning wind; wherever one looked, there were mighty lions holding stars on the deep blue flag, like an ocean rising from the streets.

From afar, cheers and applause echoed from the Inner City; soon, people would hit the streets to celebrate, and soon, a series of thrilling activities would commence, while the joyous and solemn atmosphere already permeated, bringing smiles to every Capital citizen’s face, filling their hearts with pride. Tierlos puffed his chest proudly, and a sense of honor subtly added a touch of pride to his voice: “Today’s the day of the royal duel, a nationwide celebration, everyone ecstatic!”

·

“Gentlemen, anyone seen my horse?” Gafri shouted hoarsely. A young knight beside him quickly answered, “Your horse caught a chill last night; the veterinarian is doing emergency checks. If it’s not ready on time, you might have to switch… to a motorcycle.”

Gafri almost popped his eyes out: “The captain rides his black horse, the Queen sits in the golden carriage, and then me, the deputy captain, follows on a motorcycle alongside the dignitaries? What will people think?”

“Well… I don’t know what people would think, but I reckon you’d be on the newspaper headline tomorrow.” Gongsun Ce used telekinesis to pass documents among the knights, casually chiming in, “‘Fierce Sun Newspaper’ front page, ‘Motorcycling Instead of Riding, Knight Gafri displays United flair,’ and the third-page girl of the day wears jockey leather.”