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Pult Harbor, Einhaas Fief.
As the finest deepwater harbor in Einhaas Fief, it was every bit as prosperous as West Berlin's Dordot Harbor, and its population was even larger. Its production of high-quality leather, in particular, had brought the harbor a thriving vitality.
For that very reason, hundreds of ranches lay outside Pult Harbor.
They supplied not only hides and furs, but also meat. Their beef, in particular, was popular throughout South County.
There was even a saying: "The greatest variety of food is in South Los, but the best beef is always in Pult."
At that moment, Old Maha of Maha Farm was leading his son, Young Maha, and a dozen or so farmhands toward a secluded spot outside Pult Harbor, driving donkey carts loaded with beef, alcohol, vegetables, and fruit.
"Father, has that esteemed gentleman really arrived?"
Young Maha leaned close to his father and asked quietly.
Old Maha did not answer immediately. First, he glanced back at the farmhands, making sure none of them could hear, before giving a slight nod.
"He has.
This time, I'll formally introduce you to him.
Remember-
Not a word to anyone."
Old Maha pointed at the farmhands behind them as he cautioned his son.
Although they were all longtime farmhands, some things could only be told to those closest to him. In fact, if he had not needed his son to take over, Old Maha would never have told him about his connection to the Red Knights. After all, providing information and fencing stolen goods were hardly honorable pursuits.
But without doing those things, how could a country boy like him have built up such a large property?
"Wonderful!
I finally get to meet him!
The Red Knights, the Red Knights!"
Young Maha cheered under his breath, repeating the name