"Storm Territory? Never heard of it!"
"Yeah, what kind of name is Storm Territory? Could it be written wrong? Shouldn't it be Storm Duchy, or Storm City?"
Once that person pointed it out, quite a few people indeed turned their attention to the name Storm Territory.
Though several duchies shared the same odds as Storm Territory, no one had any impression of this name.
Some even suspected that the attendant had written it incorrectly.
"Esteemed guests, it isn't a mistake. Storm Territory is the registered name we received from the Dwarves!"
"By the way, I was also rather puzzled about what this Storm Territory was before, so I asked the Dwarves about it. Do you know what I found out?" The attendant deliberately left them hanging.
"What was it? Hurry up and tell us!"
"This Storm Territory isn't a duchy, nor is it even the domain of a great noble. Apparently, it belongs to merely a minor noble!"
"Uh, is that really true? He isn't even a great noble—would the Dwarves allow him to take part in the competition?" Everyone knew the threshold for entering the competition.
Although there were no other hard requirements, if one entered, one had to ensure that they could meet the Dwarves' purchasing demands should they win.
Meeting the drinking needs of tens of thousands of Dwarven soldiers was not something an ordinary minor noble could accomplish. After all, a Dwarf could easily drink a catty of strong liquor a day.
"Of course it's true. The Dwarf said that when the lord of Storm Territory registered, all he presented was a baron's crest."
"But don't look down on this baron. The Grape Wine that has risen like a sudden force in Furnace Fortress lately is produced by Storm Territory!"
"Oh? Grape Wine comes from Storm