897
Half a month later, Saint Millon, Feysac.
The wind from the Sonia Sea failed to sweep away the chill here, instead bringing a strong scent of seawater to the port.
The deeper winter grew, the fewer ports remained usable, with only a handful of ice-free ports still operating. With shipping reduced, seafood that had once been commonplace had now become a delicacy for the middle class and nobility.
The sun had made a rare appearance today, and the city looked peaceful. Although the god who sheltered their vast empire had already died, the country's order seemed unaffected.
People either shut their doors and windows tightly and basked in the sun on their terraces, went shopping in the streets, or headed to the capital's Grand Cathedral together for worship. Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion, without even a single discordant incident.
In fine weather like this, shops selling liquor and food always opened especially early. White steam billowed from their vents, bringing a rich sense of vitality to the streets. From time to time, lower-district residents could be seen walking slowly along the roadside in tattered padded clothes.
There were few pedestrians, and the pond in the park had frozen over. Several young children played on the small pond, walking back and forth.
Near the park and square, where there was relatively more foot traffic, stood a rather large notice board covered with notices.
This notice board involuntarily drew the attention of those around it. Passersby would always stop and look up at it before continuing on their way, while residents kept coming out, glancing at the regulations on the board, then returning home.
A person wearing a hat, a scarf, and a dark overcoat common in Feysac walked unhurriedly out of an alley. His upper body was entirely protected