When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1094 Blood Pact Gun
The morning light fell on the gray-white canopy of the night market, and the pale-faced vampires yawned as they packed up their stalls and closed up shop.

As for the flesh and blood workshops that made skeletons and zombies, they all closed for the day.

Donning thick, sun-blocking hooded cloaks, these low-ranking vampires, reeking of blood, lowered their heads and headed towards their homes.

Meanwhile, the human shops and breakfast stalls in Black Tower Harbor were only just opening their doors, belatedly calling out to the vampires returning home.

"Blood tofu, top-quality blood tofu!"

"Pure human blood sausage, containing not a trace of pig's blood!"

“Three new human slaves have arrived. These aren’t the two-legged creatures sold by ogres; they can talk!”

As the golden rays fell to the ground, they resembled scattered gold rolling across the earth.

As the morning light shone through, some vampires stopped to buy a full meal, while others walked home without stopping.

But when they saw the humans hawking their wares, a hint of disdain and resentment always appeared in their eyes.

You dogs, it's you lowly races who have made a fortune.

But there was nothing that could be done about it. A century-long war with the character "屮" successfully demonstrated the value of united front tactics for humanity.

Even human merchants living in the royal court benefited from this, no longer being treated like pigs or dogs to be slaughtered.

The sunlight shone even brighter on the cloaks, and the vampires squinted as they walked past with disdain.

Vampires are children of the night; let the daytime be left to those lowly alien races.

After all, this is in the city; in rural areas, humans are nothing more than vampires' dogs!

Contrary to stereotypes, the Royal Court, despite being a major exporter of primary industries, is far more urbanized than the Empire.

In fact, the most populous and densely populated place within the royal court was the city.

The reason is also very simple.

If you shift your gaze to the countryside of the royal court, you will be surprised to find that the countryside of the royal court is literally a place where bones are exposed in the fields and hoes are being tilled, and you can't hear a rooster crowing for miles.

The rural areas of the royal court often consist of the following parts.

A vampire castle containing nearly a hundred human blood slaves, low-ranking vampire craftsmen, and servants.

The castle territory comprises a vast expanse of land, along with hordes of undead skeleton servants.

In such regions, both purchasing power and demand are extremely low.

Their only need is probably human blood slaves, who need to drink human blood to cast necromancy.

If you don't need to use necromancy, you can survive on cow's blood, sheep's blood, or pig's blood.

Such days were too boring and hopeless, and the low-ranking vampires had to endure the exploitation and abuse of the noble vampires.

As a result, a large number of low-level vampires would flee to the city, and even noble vampires from the countryside would abandon their homes and flee to the city.

In order to suppress the escape of these noble vampires, the royal court had no choice but to set up a supervisory body modeled after the empire's county magistrates.

The chief official of a province was called the governor-general in the royal court.

Superintendents often resided in rural fortresses, while governors-general typically lived in the governor-general's mansion in the provincial capital.

Taking the province of Calabica, where Danio and others are currently located, as an example, the governor's office is located in the official residence area on the west side of the port of Heta.

Those who visit the Governor's Mansion for the first time often remark that it is more like a palace than a residence.

It covers an area of ​​1.5 hectares, with a riverside facade of nearly 100 meters, a total of four floors, a height of 35 meters, and is entirely in the Gothic style.

Pearl-colored marble supports the vaulted ceiling, and the floor is covered with pure black jade.

The dome of the hall is covered with purple and dark green frescoes painted by renowned artists and painters of the empire.

The painting depicts the famous myth of the Immortal Lord, titled "The Lord Descends from Heaven, Wrathful and Ferocious."

For vampires, manpower and time are the least valuable things, so the entire royal court is a spectacle.

The inner city of the northern city of Wuguang is even more famous as the "Gun Palace City".

Because there were only towering palaces there, not low-lying houses.

The first floor of the Governor's Palace in Heta Harbor is an open office area, bustling with people and ghosts.

Despite it being close to the end of the workday, the entire floor remained noisy.

Sand nobles wearing turbans, centaur traders with hoof-covered horses, human merchants in robes, and vampire officials in silk gowns.

Sometimes, the sweat on his chin can even drip into the back of someone else's collar.

Everyone is shouting, everyone is busy with their own things, and no one has time to pay attention to anything else.

Just then, the original crowd parted like the sea, pushing to both sides, causing those squeezed against the wall to scream in pain.

"Don't go any further, you can't breathe."

"Squeeze your way in, can't you see your grandpa's inside?" Those familiar with the area knew a distinguished guest must be arriving, and they had to make way, so they looked around: "Who's here? Which supervisor has arrived?"

Beyond the shoulders of the crowd, one can see a human dressed in a high-class black suit striding towards them, surrounded by a group of vampire servants.

Wherever he went, vampire officials rose to greet him, and even some noble vampires nodded in homage.

"Who is that? Why does even the vampire lord have to bow?" a newly arrived merchant asked in a low voice.

"That's the Governor's trade commissioner, Hafari, who was said to have originally been a merchant from the Thousand Rivers Valley."

"Merchants from Thousand River Valley, members of the Holy Alliance?"

"Hey, hey, hey, don't let Commissioner Hafari hear this. He hates the Holy Alliance people the most." The old merchant explained in a low voice, "He's from the Old Thousand River Valley, a confidant of Duke Dane. Didn't Duke Dane die later?"

He was forced to remain in Black Tower Harbor, and led the Thousand Rivers Valley Merchant Guild to seek refuge with the Governor…

After hearing the explanation, the new merchant suddenly realized and muttered to himself, "So it was a traitor?"

Hafari suddenly stopped and turned sharply to look at him: "Traitor? Who's the traitor? Who are you calling a traitor? Who are you calling a traitor!"

How could he hear such a soft voice?
The merchant's face immediately turned deathly pale, and he couldn't speak.

As if by some invisible force field, all the merchants around him were pushed away in a circle, leaving him alone in the center.

The commissioner is petty; he's in big trouble now!
Khafari glanced coldly at the guard beside him.

The palace guards immediately understood, pushed aside the crowd, took a few steps forward, grabbed the merchant's arm, and dragged him out.

"Commissioner, that's not what I meant. I didn't say you were a traitor, I didn't say that..."

"If you call someone a traitor, who else can you call a traitor?" Hafari immediately retorted when he saw the merchant arguing back.

But as soon as he finished speaking, he realized something was wrong. His face darkened, and he gritted his teeth, saying, "Lock him in the arena's dungeon. I want to see him in the arena next time!"

A second glance revealed that all the merchants and minor officials had their heads bowed, while only a few noble vampires wore smiles on their lips.

Feeling his face getting hot, Hafari quickened his pace and stepped onto the gold-leafed stairs to go up to the second floor.

Once you get to the second floor, it's a much quieter place, not a place anyone can just come to.

They had been gathered by the flower bed on the second floor, where several chamber of commerce presidents were smoking pipes and chatting.

Upon seeing Commissioner Halafari arrive, they quickly extinguished their pipes and crowded around him.

With an arrogant chin raised, Khafari extended his hand, and the chamber of commerce presidents stepped forward one by one to kiss it.

Standing by the flowerbed, Khafari wiped his hands with a silk handkerchief and casually asked, "How are those Holy Alliance people doing?"

The president of the Windmill Land Chamber of Commerce immediately replied with a fawning smile: "It's all taken care of. He can't cause any trouble."

"What about the docks?"

"Their spice ships have been seized, but we haven't taken any action against them, after all, we have to give the Holy Alliance some face."

"Yes, Commissioner, we have our difficulties too..."

Although the Holy Alliance only lost some ships and cargo, Khafari was still satisfied.

These Holy Alliance people really don't respect his dignity. They know that Black Tower Port rejects the Holy Alliance's unspoken rules, yet they still insist on trading here.

If it weren't for the Holy Alliance, why would he have converted?
They would also have to become blood slaves, inferior to others, even if they were the governor's blood slaves.

He said back then that the Holy Alliance shouldn't expect to earn a single penny from him.

As a result, this group of Holy Alliance people not only refused to trade in Moonlight Bay or anywhere else, but actually insisted on coming to his hands!

Even if you want to trade, if you fly the flag of Dawn Island or Fran, Hafari will turn a blind eye and let it go, at most collecting more taxes.

As a result, they brazenly used the name of Saint Alliance to find agents and distributors.

Isn't this a slap in the face?

If he doesn't take action soon, his prestige will plummet to the ground, just like his hair.

Besides, this move would also please the Kingdom of Fran, killing two birds with one stone.

"Let's just leave them hanging like this. If they know what's good for them, they'll send someone to take them away. If they don't, well, hmph." Hafari sneered twice, and everyone immediately nodded to show they understood.

Having settled his personal matters, Khafari immediately extended his hand: "Let's put that aside for now. I'm asking you, have you obtained what I requested?"

“I got it. We’ve been waiting for you.” A president of the Franco Chamber of Commerce turned around and took out a rectangular black box.

Place it on the table, unlock it, and you'll find a strange object cushioned with red velvet.

Hafari reached for it, but couldn't move it: "These are the weapons of the northern rebels?"

"Yes, they call this the Blood Pact Gun."

(End of this chapter)