Chapter 42: The Hanging Man of Maribor
Despite Triss's near-tangible resentment, Arthur's 'low-efficiency healing potion' sold out in the blink of an eye.
After all, the world is filled with people suffering from injuries, not just swordsmen and mercenaries who live by the blade—lumberjacks can be bitten by wolves, and cooks can cut their fingers.
These injuries usually aren't worth a fifteen-Crown bottle of healing potion, but they still hurt and interrupt work.
For these people, the 'low-efficiency healing potion'—which required a whole night to recover, but cost only one Crown and could be used ten times—was the perfect solution!
In fact, the sales were so good that even though Arthur repeatedly claimed, "I'm sold out," the short-sleeved citizens continued to ask when the next batch would be available.
Had a patrol of guards not ridden by, there's no telling how long they would have been surrounded.
"A criminal is being executed at Maribor Prince's Square! All loiterers must go watch the execution immediately!"
The guards cracked their whips loudly, and the crowd instantly scattered like a flock of sheep, surging toward Prince's Square.
In a moment, besides the shopkeepers operating their businesses, only a few people in lavish robes remained strolling leisurely along the wide, straight main street.
"Why don't they have to go watch the execution?" Arthur asked, pointing at the richly dressed individuals, completely oblivious to the fact that he himself was still standing there.
"Heh, they're not loiterers, so of course they don't have to bother with such semi-mandatory activities," Kolgrim explained with a sneer: "The rulers of this world divide the city's inhabitants into nobles, good citizens, and loiterers."
"Those who are neither nobles nor have fixed property are categorized as loiterers."
"Some places are more tolerant and willing to give them work and a chance to stay; but for cities with high competition, they are clearly seen as unstable elements that need to be disciplined from time to time."
As he spoke, the patrol guard rode past them. Because of Triss's splendid attire, he not only didn't drive Arthur and the others away but greeted them with a beaming smile:
"Welcome to Maribor! If you are interested in the history of the city, there are statues of heroes from the Dagger War onwards in Prince's Square."
"I have duties to attend to, so I won't interrupt your enjoyment. Please take your time sightseeing." The patrol guard squeezed his horse's flank, and trotted off toward the next block.
Arthur had no interest in watching an execution or the statues of heroes in the square. But Prince's Square was on the way to the nearest city gate, so they inevitably encountered the execution scene.
"Everyone, please be sure to educate your children well, and keep them away from beer. I, myself, failed to resist the temptation of this devil's product…" On the execution platform, a middle-aged man of medium build, dressed in relatively decent clothes, was listing his crimes to the audience below.
For a person whose face was smeared with snot and tears, his articulation was unusually clear.
But Arthur couldn't quite hear what crime he had committed, because a dwarf next to him was erupting a string of unspeakable obscenities:
"[Dwarf Obscenity] Damn charlatan! Up to his same old tricks!"
Judging by the dwarf's words, was this hanging fake? Arthur involuntarily stopped.
Seeing that he had attracted an audience, the dwarf became even more excited:
"Young lad, you also think there's something fishy, right?"
"Last month, when my brothers and I came to the city for goods, this same bloke was hanged once. That time he was dressed in laborer's clothes, but the speech he gave wasn't much different from now."
"If you don't believe me, listen: he should be begging us not to discriminate against his wife and children now…"
Simultaneously, the middle-aged man began his final address:
"Ladies and gentlemen, my only thought now is of my wife and son still in the city. I cannot imagine how they will live their lives without me."
"I earnestly beg all good citizens not to let my crime incite malice toward them, and I sincerely wish that this world will no longer suffer from this harmful thing called beer…"
The Dwarf smugly raised his branch-thick eyebrows at Arthur. The meaning was clear: See, told you so.
A wave of suppressed weeping erupted from the crowd. The cold-blooded executioner placed the black hood over the middle-aged man's head, then pulled the lever.
The man dropped half a foot, hanging motionless in the air.
"[Dwarf Obscenity] Fake, all fake. That small drop isn't enough to snap a neck. And look at his legs! There are no death throes at all!" The Dwarf yelled as loudly as he could, but his voice was like a single wavelet against the roar of the entire plaza.
The second criminal was powerfully built, wearing only ragged cloth, his exposed skin covered in bruises. He swept a contemptuous gaze over the crowd before speaking:
"The judge sentenced me to be hanged because I killed a soldier who drew his sword and charged at me. If I had been the one killed, the soldier would be standing under this gallows now, and I would be free."
After delivering this piece of rigorous logic, he gave an almost arrogant nod to the executioner, signaling him to proceed with the execution.
The result of this execution was nothing short of horrific. After the trapdoor opened, the rope snapped taut then sprang back up, leaving nothing but a bloody loop.
"Hey, can't you people hire someone more professional? There are ladies and children here!"
Several faint-hearted citizens fainted on the spot, while the Dwarf, eager to stir up trouble, frantically waved his cane.
This sudden turn of events clearly flustered the officials on the stage. They chased the previous executioner off the platform and ran over to another executioner wielding a giant axe, demanding that he complete the subsequent execution.
"No, gentlemen. I cannot agree." The executioner with the great axe said with a grim face: "I am an executioner responsible for beheading, and only nobles are entitled to die by the blade."
An official took out a silver coin, attempting to bribe the executioner, but it was entirely unsuccessful.
With no other choice, the official called the executioner who had just been driven off the platform back up.
The third criminal was a Dwarf. He had intended to imitate the previous convict and deliver a bit of black humor in his final moments.
However, the executioner, having been chased off and called back, was clearly flustered. He didn't wait for the Dwarf to finish his first sentence before hurriedly pulling the lever.
The half-foot of slack was nowhere near enough to snap the Dwarf's thick neck. The poor fellow dangled in the air, his short legs kicking up what looked like a storm, before finally suffocating to death after a long while.
A larger roar of boos erupted from the crowd, and the Dwarf beside Arthur was practically shouting his lungs out. But regardless, only one criminal remained on the platform.
The repeatedly errant first executioner fled the scaffold, and the giant-axe-wielding executioner walked onto the stage with slow, deliberate steps.
The officiating officer unrolled a long parchment and began to loudly enumerate the final criminal's charges:
"The last prisoner, Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount of Lettenhove, also known as Dandelion…"
Weren't they talking about the last prisoner? Why are there so many people? Arthur was about to reply to the Dwarf with a joke from his past life when he suddenly realized the area around him was eerily silent.
The Dwarf's lips were tightly sealed, his knuckles white around his cane. In the crowd, quiet sobs could be heard from several directions.
Triss stared intently at the stage, murmuring:
"Dandelion, Dandelion, what trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"
.........
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