"So you're planning to turn the whole Britz area into one big drinking party?"
"Yes, my lord! The saltpeter farm is complete, but what we're short of most is piss and dung!"
"...That's so blunt I don't even know what to say."
The reason Markus had given us the warmest welcome of anyone upon our return was that he saw our soldiers as walking piles of manure. That was why the victory feast had been held in Britz, a short distance from Vintenheim.
When this area was named Britz after Markus's surname, the saltpeter entrepreneur had made no secret of his ambition. He would make Britz the most prosperous district in all of Vintenheim.
Like Beverly Hills to the rest of Los Angeles.
It's going to stink to high heaven, though.
Half the supplies gathered for the carnival season had been lavished on the soldiers who had protected Vintenheim. Fortunately, far from objecting, the people had insisted on releasing the rest of the supplies at once and holding the carnival early.
