The oppressive atmosphere in City Hall did not last long.
When Veylin calmly accepted the decree and politely asked when the Church's artisans would arrive, the gentle smile on Father Fabian's face froze for an instant.
He had anticipated Veylin's anger, resentment, even fierce resistance in public.
But he had never expected such calm.
"The Church's artisans will arrive alongside the Lord's gospel." Fabian bowed slightly, his bearing impeccable.
"Excellent."
Veylin nodded, then handed the scroll to Tristan behind him for safekeeping.
He turned to the people in the hall, whose expressions varied, and his voice carried clearly into every corner.
"The decree has been read. Glory belongs to everyone who helped build the Gray Marsh Fief!"
"Tonight, we will hold a celebration in City Hall Square. Everyone can redeem their merit points for double the food and ale!"
After a brief silence, cheers erupted even louder than before.
The news quickly spread throughout the city.
To the ordinary townspeople, the Church's stipulations were far too remote. Double the food and ale, however, meant tangible happiness.
Smiles returned to their faces, and they began excitedly discussing the evening's feast.
Watching Veylin's composed figure from behind, Tristan was deeply moved.
This young baron possessed a power that could easily sway people's hearts.
He always found the most direct way to defuse a crisis and unite people.
As night fell, more than a hundred enormous bonfires blazed throughout the city, painting half the sky red.
The long tables were laden with dishes beyond anything they could have imagined.
Instead of the usual roast meat and stews, there were oddly shaped foods with mouthwatering aromas.
One dish, called "swamp crocodile tendons in red oil," was cooked in oil from a spicy red herb. The crocodile tendons had been prepared until soft yet springy.