Chapter 63: General Assembly
Well, it’s still early summer.
The real heat is yet to come.
Now that the big job is over and I have some free time, I thought I’d go have some fun…
But before that, I decided to show my face at a meeting of the “Emerald Covenant,” the guild I belong to.
It’s almost summer.
There are many illnesses to deal with, such as melancholy, food poisoning, heatstroke, and roundworms.
For that, I’ll need to provide some medicinal ingredients and bring a few souvenirs.
After all, I’m an outsider, forced in by the strong authority of Count Missgancia, the Lord, and no one knows where I came from.
I need to be considerate of existing interests and the people rooted in this town…
Yes.
That’s why I came, but…
“…Did you have to come at a time like this?”
“Huh? Who the hell are you…? Ah, you’re the Lord’s favorite. What’s up? What do you want?”
“Ho, this is him? Quite the handsome man, isn’t he?”
“Ugh, is this guy a Changeling? A monster!”
“Long time no see, Andrews-san.”
…It seems today is the day of the “General Assembly,” where representatives from all the guilds in town gather.
The “Emerald Covenant”…
This is where I belong.
They produce and manage plant-derived foods, drinks, and medicines, such as medicinal herbs, vegetables, and grains.
Their patron saint is the Great Apostle Luvilaias.
The one in charge is Granny Mary, an old Apothecary.
The remaining old men are representatives from other guilds.
I don’t know much about them, but I know their roles.
The “Crimson Brigade” handles meat, fur, and animal livers.
I often sell them the beasts I’ve hunted, so they remember my face.
Especially since I kill them cleanly and bring them washed. Apparently, my approval rating is high.
The “Black Brigade” handles everything from metal products to woodwork.
I don’t have much to do with them. I manage that stuff on my own…
The “Azure Brigade” handles seafood and waterway management.
Apparently, they hate me here. Changelings are considered unlucky, or so they say? That’s a matter of religion and faith, so I can’t say anything…
I guess it’s because they have a lot of water-related disasters, so they try to avoid unlucky beings?
Even on Earth, some fishermen and hunters still say that bringing a woman to the sea or mountains will anger the gods! It seems that in professions where lives are at stake, they take omens seriously.
The “White Brigade” handles fabrics and ornaments.
I buy a lot of cloth, so they think I’m a big spender. I’m probably the only one besides the nobles and some wealthy merchants who buy foreign carpets sold at the grand market. It makes sense.
So, that’s why I happened to run into the meeting…
“Ah… Should I come back later?”
“Huh? Why? You’re a member of the guild, aren’t you? You have a duty to attend the meeting!”
Ah, what was it?
That’s right, Maurice, the leather craftsman.
Maurice-ossan is a middle-aged man with a buzz cut and a beard, a beefy guy who looks like he came out of a gay comic. A bear type? Is that what they call it?
He’s the owner of a leather workshop, and his monster leather coats can also be used as armor, so they’re widely sold to Strider, soldiers, and even commoners?
This old man is serious about his work, so he seems to be offended by my casual attitude.
“No, sorry. I have an unavoidable errand.”
“Hmph, more important than the meeting? Besides, I heard you don’t even show your face at the regular Emerald Covenant meetings?”
“That’s right. I have unavoidable work, but basically, everyone doesn’t look happy when I, an outsider, am around, right?”
“You idiot! That’s all the more reason to show your face!”
That’s certainly true, but…
“I’m a Long-Lived Race… I’m skilled, and if I were to seriously work as a member of the guild, other craftsmen would be in trouble.”
I replied.
“Who do you think you are?”
“I don’t mean to offend you, but this is an undeniable fact… Even in aristocratic society, it’s forbidden for Long-Lived Races to hold public authority, you know? Living long means gaining that much power and knowledge… If you stay in an organization for a hundred years, mortals won’t be able to surpass the Long-Lived Race.”
I try to answer Maurice, who is angry, with a sincere attitude.
It’s not good for Long-Lived Races to hold secular power. This is said in every country.
They probably haven’t thought about such things in an organization the size of a guild, but… it’s common sense.
“Tch, it’s irritating, but I agree with him. In short, if he stays here, my son, and his son after him, will never be able to look up to us, right? I don’t want that!”
The “Azure Brigade”… I don’t know his name, but a bald old man who looks like a fisherman said, slamming the table.
It seems he’s not all brawn and no brains.
That’s right, as this old man says, if I stay here, I’ll continue to be a senior to all the craftsmen who join the guild from now on.
This is not good.
In the world of craftsmen, skill is important, of course, but seniority also matters…
“I agree. As a Dwarf, I feel the same way. It’s not good for long-lived races to stay in human organizations. I’ve decided to pass the torch to the next generation in thirty years.”
A middle-aged Dwarf from the “Black Brigade” said.
Dwarves live about three times longer than humans. It seems he understood what I wanted to say.
Having been persuaded by the two, Maurice, who is the leader of the “Crimson Brigade,” had no choice but to remain silent.
“By the way, the errand was to go to the Royal Capital with the Lord. Of course, as a citizen of this town, I can’t disobey the Lord’s orders.”
When I added that as a final push, Maurice waved his hand…
“Ah, I get it, I get it! My bad!”
He said, as if spitting it out.
Well… about that too.
Count Missgancia is originally from a wealthy merchant family, so it’s a bit different, but normally, nobles and merchants are separate…
Nobles only collect taxes and don’t impose antitrust laws or sanitation standards on merchants.
Not imposing laws means that, conversely, they don’t protect merchants by punishing those who break the law.
Rules protect those who abide by them. You might not feel it in a peaceful and stagnant country like Japan.
It’s the same as the Sengoku Era.
Lords and Sengoku warlords borrow money and collect taxes from merchants, but they don’t force them to do anything. They have the military power to order them, though.
And merchants decide everything themselves, from what to sell to what to buy, and they do it at their own risk. They don’t have regulations like “don’t sell this, don’t do that” like in modern Earth, and they don’t get much protection from the government.
That’s why the guilds here seem to have a kind of independent spirit, thinking, “So what if it’s the Lord! The Lord would be in trouble if we didn’t work!” They think of me, who was forcibly pushed into the guild by the Lord’s authority, as a nuisance.
Of course, if they really rebelled, they’d be killed instantly for treason, but that’s another matter. That’s how confident they are in their skills.
Anyway, I’m an existence forced in by the power of “authority,” which is separate from my skills as a merchant. My approval rating is low.
I want to be on good enough terms to at least have a conversation, even if we can’t be “friends”…
Ah, that’s right.
I should have them eat the souvenirs I brought.