This inn was exceptionally clean.
More than a dozen tables stood in neat rows in the inn's hall. The fireplace was positioned to the left, while a bar counter displayed every variety of fine wine laid sideways on its racks. Behind it was the kitchen.
A staircase connected the upper and lower floors. This inn was not a single-story building; it had a full four floors.
For now, it seemed this inn had many guests. The lower floor was filled with the fragrant scent of food and wine.
As Romon knew, the Pilgrimage Trading Guild had a history of no more than three hundred years. On the continent, it was a typical example of a force that had risen swiftly, and the fact that it had planted roots so deeply in every corner of the continent was truly worthy of praise.
Judging from this inn alone, the guild had already formed the rudiments of chain-store management. At the very least, in terms of division of labor and handling matters, it was absolutely beyond comparison with ordinary trading guilds.
Romon was drinking coffee in a beautifully furnished and comfortable private room while chatting with the plump owner. Before he had even finished a cup of tea, the waiter from earlier came running in with a beaming smile.
The moment he entered, he first bowed to his owner, then bowed to Romon. "Sir, the courtyard prepared for you has been tidied up. Please come with us and have a look."
"Mm, all right." Romon nodded.
He truly was somewhat tired by then. He desperately wanted to take a good bath and then sleep. Days of constant rushing about had left both body and mind crying out for rest.
"Lord Romon, this way." During their earlier chat, the owner had already learned Romon's