Industrial revolution starting with the undead

"I don't like it anymore! I didn't mean to be with you!

"Oh, don't say that, Matilda..."

"You don't work at all, do you? I'm always home all the time, and I'm not the only one working after all!

"So, but..."

At the corner of the tavern, the voice of a couple having a crazy fight like that sounds.

A cheap tavern is a good thing that you can eat and drink a full belly without worrying about the price, but it also makes the environment worse proportionately. The screaming voice at the table next door, not so far away, will also be enough to silence the mouth of the welcoming guest.

Most importantly, this situation, in which his wife, unable to keep her mouth shut to her non-working husband, slammed three and a half lines, seems entertaining to the extent that the other guests observe it with a grin.

The shopkeeper running this tavern took a small sigh of sigh.

I wish you'd lost your voice a little bit more.

"Master, give me another malt (ale)"

"Yes, I understand"

I'm not interested in the end of such a boring fight - that's what I said, the guy sitting at the counter orders that from the store owner.

I am a traveler, to see from the appearance. That's what the shopkeeper decided from his rubbed cloak, his blurry clothes, his wide hat that would be to protect himself from the sun.

"It's barley wine (ale)"

"Oh."

A traveler sighs small and sighs liquor. The price is just cheap, not so good liquor. But if you try to be a traveler, they'll do anything if you get drunk. The drinks were fancy.

Instead, the beans are probably the only ones ordering as a pinch of booze because that's all the journey goes on and I'm in trouble.

"Customer, with a traveler?

"... I don't remember you naming me"

"No, from the look of it. It's a face I've never seen before, and it's something that people often come here for."

"Right. Well, you are. There's a lot going on, wandering the country."

To the traveller's answer, the shopkeeper nods.

There must be some circumstance not to say it in depth. It is a circumstance that prevents us from returning to the country, or some of them are being pursued as criminals in their homeland.

I don't ask what's going on there. However, the shopkeeper merely provides the traveler with a little peace of mind and alcohol, although it is in a noisy store.

"Look at something interesting on your trip the other day."

"Is something wrong?

"Oh. Two or three to the west. It's the countryside ahead... you know a place called Bath's Village?

"Maybe it's the countryside of the Earl of Fleetberg."

The shopkeeper answers, imagining that it would probably be.

West of the city that hosts this shop is the territory of the Earl of Fleetberg. I have heard that it is a territory full of deficits with no borders and no specialties, with poor transport if the harbour is far away. So long ago, in the war of aggression against Aarv, it was given to the Earl of Fleetberg at the time, who did not raise much military merit?

Although I've never heard the name of such a village.

"There, look at something strange."

"Weird stuff?

"Oh. A moving skeleton."

"... customer, are you very drunk?

The shopkeeper says so to the traveler, sighing.

It's impossible to think in common sense, such as the skeleton moving. Exactly, store owners aren't stupid enough to be serious about such a Yotai story.

haha, and the traveler laughed furiously at such a rude shopkeeper.

"Well, you'd say so. Even I would think it was a joke if I just asked."

"I guess. I can't believe the skeleton moves..."

"But it was actually working. That's not the same as the two of us. You were over ten. That's what the villagers told me to do, plow the fields. It's the middle of the day, and I wonder what kind of nightmare it is."

"A skeleton plows a field...?

"Oh."

I can't catch up with the traveler's words at the earliest.

The story that the skeleton was moving, let's give up a hundred steps and try to be good. I have heard such stories as suspicious stories on battlefield sites, etc.

But most stories about skeletons moving and attacking humans and wandering in groups are like that. I've never even heard of it, such as farming fields according to human instructions.

Hence.

It is because I have never heard of it that the words of such travellers add credibility.

"At first, I thought it was the home of the cult, too. But if you listen to me a lot, they don't."

"What do you mean?

"Hi, I hear your lord has changed. You think such a new lord gave the village a soldier of skeletons? Besides, it's a skeleton, so on top of not being tired, I can work all day on an insomnia break. Even in the countryside, where there are no young people, he said the harvest would increase as long as the skeleton was there"

"Ha ha. My lord..."

"If you think it's a lie, you should take a look. I was scared to be honest, but when I asked the village to stay overnight, it made me feel better."

Laughing, a traveler carries barley wine (ale) into his mouth.

It's a hard story to believe in Russia, but it doesn't seem to lie about how the travelers are doing. The moving skeleton is bizarre, but maybe there is such magic in the world.

And while we were listening to travelers that way, the couple who were fighting in the back seat also seemed to have a paragraph. In a bad direction.

"That's enough! Me, because I'll let my parents go home!

"Oh, no..."

"Don't ever talk to me again!

Bang, and I can't say anything to my wife who knocks on the table and leaves, my husband just dropping me off.

You also hear me leaking laughter when my surroundings dull. After a moment of silence, my husband also stood up and set aside the price, leaving the store as it was.

Did you finally end the sales jamming - yes, when you put your gaze back on the traveler?

"Excuse me. Can I talk to you in detail for a moment?

"Mm...... oh, what about you?

For some reason, I sit next to such a traveler, there was a woman.

Glowing golden hair, even in a dim tavern. He wears a glossy dress with a slightly open chest on a neat face that all ten would call beautiful if there were ten of them.

Nor did the traveler think he could speak from such a beautiful woman. Carry the wheat liquor (ale) into your mouth, as confused as it is at any rate.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, who

"I saw the moving skeleton... is that true?

"No, it's true..."

"In a rural area called Bath's Village, he said it was there. As far as I can tell, did you offer it to Lord of the Earl of Fleetberg?"

"That's what he said... what's wrong with that. Or are you..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You didn't name it."

A woman stands up and weaves her jacket.

On the back of that jacket...

"My name is Jennifer Langley, and I am the 'Episcopal' Priest."

"What... and priest, chief...?

"Yes. Apparently, in the territory of the Earl of Fleetberg, cults are spreading."

A diagram showing the largest religious faction on the continent, surrounded by a sacred cross.

Commonly known, the mark of 'Ecclesiastes' was inscribed.