Author: Sasaki Ichiro	Original Source: Syosetu
Translator: Mab	English Source: Re:Library
Editor(s): Silva

Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

Roughly 400 years ago (though legend claims a history of 700 to 800 years, the clearly recorded timeline only dates back to this period), the city-state of Thera Maryth, then a remote outpost, had a city wall like any other, constructed to fend off threats like monsters and bandits.

However, Thera Maryth’s walls were somewhat unconventional. Beyond their practical purpose as stone or earthen barriers, they were built with a ritualistic intent—to isolate the sacred site, where a certain local deity was worshipped, from the secular world.

Centered around a temple dedicated to this deity, the city was encircled by whitewashed walls three mertes tall, forming a near-perfect 300-merte radius. Within the enclosure were inns, schools, a slaughterhouse, a weekly market for livestock and other goods, as well as orchards, vegetable gardens, and pastures suitable for self-sufficiency. Despite its distinct appearance and religious significance, the city itself was fairly ordinary in its layout and function.

As an aside, the worship of this local deity has been completely abolished in the present day.

About a century ago, Saintess Snow and the hero Arland, guided by her, uncovered that this local deity was, in fact, a demon god. They defeated it, breaking the unconscious mental enslavement of shrine maidens and priests (or so they claimed). The region subsequently shifted its faith to the saintly savior and established the current Saintess Church, a transformation that has since become a near-mythical narrative.

Following these events, the city walls underwent several rounds of renovation. These renovations focused on defense against monsters and common bandits, rather than preparing for war (since the city would already be doomed if the enemy reached this point).

As a religious city surrounded by natural fortifications such as numerous dungeons, its defenses were primarily designed against monsters rather than human invaders. The walls also served as barriers imbued with wards and as a dramatic backdrop to enhance the majesty of the grand cathedral towering above the city. Over time, the walls were modified more for ornamentation than practical use.

As the years passed, the once-minor local order evolved into a major religious organization with influence over neighboring northern countries. To accommodate its growing population of adherents and the city’s expanding scale, the city’s population began to spill beyond the original city walls.

The influx of people was also fueled by Thera Maryth’s relatively stable political system amidst the rising instability of surrounding nations. Houses sprouted outside the city gates, followed by shops catering to the new residents. Churches were built, guild trading posts established, and markets opened.

Over time, the outer city became the hub of commerce and exchange in Thera Maryth. Carriage stations, meeting halls, open-air stalls, and inns sprang up, transforming the area into a bustling new district. The inner city—the walled area—came to be known as the “Central Holy City,” designated as a special zone where members of the clergy and nobility resided. Meanwhile, the outer city, referred to as the “New City,” became home to common believers and middle- to lower-class residents, marking a clear divide in residential zones.

Notably, the New City was constructed without any walls, allowing free passage from all directions.

In the New City, near the lower district, there was a fairly well-known establishment called The Dwarven Apple Pavilion. It functioned as a combination of a restaurant, an inn, a modest blacksmith workshop, and a general goods store.

Shrouded in a mix of truth and rumor, it was said to have been founded by Holiday, the Dwarven Sage and one of the seven heroes from the widely known fairy tale The Crimson Snow White and the Seven Heroes, after his retirement from adventuring.

Given its background, the inn was a rare sight in the northern regions, where prejudice against non-human races still ran deep. Dwarves, hobbits, beastfolk, and other demi-human races frequented the establishment openly. As a result, the inn bore a resemblance to an adventurer’s guild, unbound by the origins, lineage, or race of its patrons.

While the inn was typically packed to the point of spilling outside during dinner hours, it was now just shy of lunchtime, so there were still some empty seats despite the steady crowd.

At one of the inn’s more secluded tables, a trio of individuals—clearly making an effort to avoid drawing attention but instead radiating an unmistakable air of uniqueness—sat eating and engaged in a hushed discussion.

♦♢♦♢

“Enjoyed yourself last night, did you?”

After recounting the origins of this country, Coppelia flashed an insinuating smirk at Cestlavie, who was fishing a pill out of his medicine pouch with a weary expression.

“…You all left in such a hurry, I ended up stuck with a bunch of drunk old men pestering me all night,” Cestlavie grumbled, swallowing his hangover medicine whole with a sour expression. He added, “It was a nightmare—being harassed with baseless suspicions and then getting pressured to spill my guts while plastered.”

“Oh, you must mean those adventurers from yesterday. I actually prepared, thinking some of them might drop by the church for healing after hearing word of mouth, but as of this morning, there haven’t been any visitors. Bit of a letdown, really.”

I said, giving a small shrug. Perhaps this city simply doesn’t have that many people worried about thinning hair.

“Nobody believes drunken ramblings about curing baldness,” Coppelia remarked coldly.

“…”

Whether because of the bitterness of the medicine or because her words hit too close to home, Cestlavie scowled and turned away.

Incidentally, Cestlavie was dressed in his usual practical black attire, while Coppelia, in her ever-present maid outfit, sat on her chair. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I felt the surrounding patrons shooting us odd looks, as if wondering, Why is a maid just lounging about, not working?

Just then, a boy of about seven or eight—perhaps a kitchen helper or maybe the innkeeper’s child—came over from the kitchen carrying a large platter of food.

“Uh, u-um… Here’s your order of Groß Nacktschnecke Pie with herb salad and water,” the boy stammered nervously, stealing glances in my direction as he set the food on the table.

“Thank you. You’re such a good boy, working so responsibly,” I said, reaching out instinctively to pat his head.

The boy’s face flushed bright red, and he stammered, “Y-y-yes, ma’am, Lady Clara!” before scurrying back to the kitchen with a spring in his step.

“…I have the feeling my identity’s been discovered somehow,” I mused, tilting my head. “But how? I’m in disguise…”

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