Chapter 1551: Golds’ Letters (Part 2)
Hassen City
The City, known for its sheer amount of Black Metal, was as bustling as it was, even early in the morning—already full of life. At this time, it was barely after dawn.
The streets were busy with fighters, hunters, and mercenaries getting ready for the day. Some checked their weapons and armors, making sure everything was in place, while others just followed after strongmen, either to provide the long-range attacks or just to get carried.
Some only brought themselves out, while some prepared carts and large bags to maximize foraging and hunting trips outside.
Others headed straight to the Mercenary Halls. They’d study the wall filled with notices, bounties, and missions and the like. Anyway, the city was bustling.
Meanwhile, a certain swordsman in a guard uniform entered the Post office very early on. The Post Office of a City naturally could not compare to most towns. Hassen, known for their abundance and expertise in black metal, naturally showed this off in their main buildings, including the Post Office.
There were metallic inserts on the columns and the walls, and even the floors. There were metallic accents on the furniture as well.
This post office was also quite big with 3 storeys, indicating that it was a Level 3 Post Office. Level 3 Post Offices could send out small items to territories with similar qualifications, though the man didn’t need that much.
After all, the place the man was sending to only had a Level 1 Post Office.
Silva had dyed his hair a darker color. Although white-silver hair wasn’t too unusual, it wasn’t too common either. Spies were supposed to blend in as much as possible, and any features that could make them memorable must be removed.
The dye on his hair was especially formulated by Alterran pharmacists, designed to last months. He also had a few in his space, making sure there were no slip-ups. Basically, he had to hide what he could
hide, because his name wasn’t one of those things.The Post Office required using one’s real name, and they knew it was likely that Hassen administrators would check his name when he was applying for a guard position, so they didn’t bother to hide his name.
Silva entered the building, heading towards the Post Office Clerk. "Is there a letter for Silva?" he asked. Technically speaking, he wouldn’t know if the masters had already sent a letter. Perhaps they would only send today or the next few days.
However, he knew how much the master cared for his sister, so he was certain that there would be no delays at all.
Sure enough—
"Yes, a letter from a Tener from Alterra Town," the Clerk said, looking over at the mountains of letters he had there.
Technically speaking, he could stare at the board and wait for his name to appear, and then, if it was there, he’d just need to head over to the platform and enter his name, and the letter would appear there.
However, some territories preferred to tightly control the letters going in and out of their territory, so there was a clerk there who organized everything.
Usually, it was also a cover because these people tend to be the Lord’s representatives and took letters of interest to read. They’d need time to copy the contents, after all.
This didn’t happen too often, fortunately. Very few people would receive this type of attention because it was too much work.
While the Lord or assigned individuals could read the contents of the letters, only the recipient would be able to actually take it out of the building. If anyone tried to withhold letters, the person could just head to the platform and take them for himself.
In the same way, the recipients would be alerted if there were missing items or pages in the letter.
Silva looked at the envelope and knew that it had been opened. The Letter was probably flagged because Alterra hadn’t appeared in their records of incoming letters before. They probably read the one he sent, too.
"Thanks," he said, before finally leaving and heading back to the palace, just in time to get back before his shift.
He secured the job about a month ago. He arrived a few months prior, but the security around the palace was naturally very stringent.
Hassen was one of the Older Cities, and its ruling party developed into a pseudo-royalty of sorts, or at least it was already on its way there. At the very least, if the Lord wanted something, no one would dare question it.
He applied using the standard applications method with various levels of testing and questioning.
He also had to shift his residency to do so, though the Elders promised him his residency was reserved for him and he didn’t have to pay contribution points again to recover it. As for the monetary cost, part of which the system itself required, the Golds would sponsor his retrieval.
Because Silvawas already past level 40, the questioning was a bit sharper and longer. He simply claimed he was from Warrior City—a place he had been to in his youth—and that he wanted to climb up the ladder. Warrior City was known for its monsters, so this excuse went through.
He didn’t have to worry about them checking the legitimacy of his claims either. Even if, by some chance, someone had the resources and the time to do so, it was still unlikely that he’d be blocked from applying.
Warrior City was a huge city, and they didn’t really keep detailed records of past citizenships. Even if they didn’t find signs of him there, it wouldn’t be enough for qualification.
As for the final test, Silva was then thrown a few kilometers outside the City along with others. If they managed to get back to the City on their own with their four limbs, then they’d be accepted. Naturally, Silva, who was a very skilled individual, passed with flying colors.
The guards here had two shifts, 14 hours of work. He was assigned to the area between the main palace and the side palaces, one of which was Lady Zinnia’s and Young Master Marco.
The two, despite being part of the royal family, were pretty much constrained inside their own palaces.
Sometimes, they’d go out for the occasional walk, particularly when they knew there would be no other people going around. For instance, if there were parties and they were not invited, then they were free to roam this relatively poor side of the gardens to their heart’s content.
He stopped in his room for a bit to read the letter. On paper, the sender was a soldier named Dejel, but it was definitely the Patriarch’s handwriting.
/Thank you for telling us! I am happy to know you found such a good job. What an honor! Take care of your health, as well as the family’s. Send them my greetings. Tell them to hang on, no matter what kind of storm they will encounter, the sunny day will come. /
The Patriarch knew the Lord’s side might read the letter, so he became really vague.
He nodded to himself and headed to his station. Subtly, he paused over an area in the garden, moving an unassuming stone with his feet, at a specific angle.
This was a signal, and he hoped the young Master would be able to understand his message.