On the 18th of the Starfall calendar, the winter season once again descended on the northern part of the Stoke Kingdom.

The cold winter wind swept through this cold and bitter land, but it did not stop the lively and joyful atmosphere, because there was less than half a month before the glorious festival day.

Every citizen living in the kingdom of Stoke, whether poor or rich, lowly or noble, is preparing for the arrival of the new year's glorious festival, which is the best farewell to the outgoing year, and also prays that the god of light will shelter them for a good harvest in the coming year.

The town of Irwindal, once a transit farming town, has gradually become a thriving trading town in the past two years, attracting countless traders and wandering mercenaries to and from the area.

"Hey, Congreeve, this... The town of Irwindale has changed too much! In front of the towering and majestic city wall, a mercenary wearing chain mail stared blankly at the crowded and bustling city gate in front of him, and said dumbfounded.

"I remember, just two years ago..... Yes, when I left here two years ago, there were only a handful of leather herb merchants here, and now ........"

"Hahaha, Horace, that's your bad luck." The mercenary man, known as Congreve, turned his head and said with a smile, his calloused right hand slamming into Horace's shoulder.

"Remember the Pioneer Knight who had just arrived in the town of Irwindal? The rumors are not reliable, it is a very simple guy. ”

"Now the town of Irwindale can grow to such a scale, it is all due to the iron-blooded policy of the pioneer knight, no, it should be said that it is Lord Baron Modrian!" Congreve couldn't help but swallow as he looked at the line of black knights standing in front of the city gate, and the scarlet memories of the past came back to his mind.

"More than a year ago, a vein of refined iron ore was discovered in the Lenwall Mountains, but it attracted the attention of many northern nobles, guess what the final outcome is?"

The emaciated Horace rubbed his aching shoulders, looked up at the indifferent and iron-blooded city guards standing in the battlements, shook his head helplessly, and was forced to cooperate with Congreve's 'show'.

"What's the end!?"

"Hey, of course the ending is that Lord Baron Modrian won, and it is rumored that the battle that took place outside the town of Irwindale directly killed nearly 5,000 people, and it also included many extraordinary knights and nobles of the kingdom." Congreeve slowed his pace and whispered close to Horace, his tone mixed with unspeakable fear.

"Well, I know, the end must have been that Baron Modrian's victory....... Wait, you're saying there was a skirmish, and 5,000 people died.... That's impossible.... This is the .......... in the Kingdom of Stoke" Horace's originally casual expression, when he heard his partner's words, he couldn't help but question loudly, he knew that the kingdom's laws and regulations were orderly and strict.

Congreeve saw the people around him staring at this place with lively eyes, his face changed suddenly, and he directly covered Horace's mouth and said in a low voice.

"Damn it, Horace, what are you doing, who made you speak so loudly.... Get out of here, I don't want to be targeted by the Noxian Imperial cavalry. ”

With the sound of hurried footsteps, the two mercenaries quickened their pace and disappeared into the crowded rénliú.

......................

The bustling and noisy town of Irwindale is dotted with neat and clean cyan streets, where you can see hordes of armed and wandering mercenaries, and traders who are constantly looking for business opportunities.

Not only human merchants, but also merchants of other races from countries near the Kingdom of Stoke also trade in this new and prosperous town, adding a touch of prosperity.

"Huhu~ Huhu, don't be so afraid, Congreve, you said it was a rumor, does that Baron Modrian still care?" Horace stood in an alley, gasping for breath and saying that until now, he still did not believe Congreve's previous words, and the laws of the kingdom were deep in his soul.

"Rumors? Hey, you mongrel assassin, if you hadn't saved Lao Tzu's life, I would have abandoned you at the gates of the city and let those cold-blooded guys take you away. Congreve wiped the sweat from his forehead and said with a hideous face.

"If it was really a rumor, I would be so scared! And if you think about it, why didn't any northern nobles dare to covet such a trading town like a gold mine? And the iron ore that is shipped out every day! ”

"Because Baron Modrian's prestige is a shock to those hypocritical nobles who bully the weak and fear the hard, the battle in the town of Irwindale more than a year ago directly broke their backbones and completely shattered their confidence."

"However, this is the territory of the kingdom, how can there be a small-scale war, or a war within itself!"

Horace was still puzzled, the memory of two years ago was completely inconsistent with the present, the pioneer knight Modrian, he had also heard of, it seemed to be the second son of the Scarlet Viscount, a very mediocre aristocratic young master.

"And, Congreve, why do you know so well?"

"Phew!" Congreve spat out a mouthful of thick phlegm, shrugged his shoulders slightly, and kept his tone as normal as possible.

"Don't you feel the current undercurrent in the Stoke Kingdom? You are a well-informed assassin. He looked at his partner who was suddenly bowing his head and was silent, his tone trembled slightly, and he continued.

"As for why I know, hehe, because I was once hired by some dead nobleman to fight in what was called hell."

"Lady Luck favored me, and I survived by luck, and now I am a veteran mercenary active in the town of Irwindale!"

An atmosphere of silence hung between the two mercenaries, both of whom were silent, and the cold law of the jungle made them feel powerless.

Smack!

The heavy palm slapped against Horace's shoulder again, and Congreve's stiff face pulled a smile, as if he didn't care about the memories of the past, but the humble fear remained in the depths of his pupils.

"Well, that's not something we lowly mercenaries can consider."

"Let's go, I'll show you around the present-day town of Irwindale, and maybe we'll get a free ale."

Raising his head slightly, Horace looked at Congreve's tall figure, and his silent face smiled again, he was still concerned about the situation in the Stoke Kingdom, and now he was just a wandering mercenary.

There is wine today and drunk today, tomorrow is sad tomorrow, and he wants to enjoy today's leisure time.

He then followed in Congreve's footsteps on a tour of the town of Irwindal, which had been transformed from a vein of refined iron.

Compared to the large cities that Horace had visited, and the more bustling trading cities, there was a sense of order that could not be explained clearly.

Yes, a sense of order!

All the people in the town of Irwindale, including the unruly and fierce mercenaries, and the cunning and greedy merchants, are following a certain order, and they dare not step beyond the thunder pool in the slightest.

"It's an order forged with blood, and you know, when refined iron ore is traded here, there are dozens of bloody battles every day, and death is completely flooded inside and outside the town."

"But it all came to an end with the intervention of Baron Modrian, and the black cavalry under his command slaughtered countless greedy people who did not follow the rules and order."

"Even the great knights in the high are no exception, and I have seen the heads of those great men interspersed with red-bottomed axe banners on the walls."

Congreve stopped in front of a deep, silent alley, his face slightly excited.

"Here we are, Horace, this is the most special part of the town of Irwindale, and it's the ........," Congreve explained, turning to his partner behind him.

"It's also our mercenary's favorite tavern!"