That morning, the caravan arrived at the village of Fold with a jingling bell.

The gorgeously dressed caravan leader found Simon and asked him to agree to the caravan stay in the village for a few days.

Simon agreed, but he proposed that in the village, all transactions must be made and recorded in front of Father James, and then one-tenth of the transaction amount will be paid as transaction tax.

In this way, a small market was built on the small square in the center of Folder Village, with various hawking sounds one after another.

"Come and see, everyone, I have rare treasures from all over the world, altar candles from the Franks, wine made from grapes long in the rose bushes, rare condiments and dyes, magical relics, miracle ointments and magical elixirs with significant efficacy!"

A guy with a big beard, wearing a simple brown pilgrimage suit, a rabbit claw pendant hanging around his neck, and a large and small bags of bags wrapped around his waist was selling it in front of his carriage with his own carriage, watching the fun around him.

In addition to this pilgrim who sells holy objects of unknown origin, there are also pharmacists selling various potions, butchers selling various meat dry goods and animal fats, wine merchants selling strong wine and beer, grocers selling various production tools, etc.

However, it is obvious that these foolish villagers who are very enthusiastic about religion are more surrounded by the pilgrim.

"Praise Christ, this respected sir, can you tell me in detail about the holy things you sell?" The wealthy free farmer Pierre pinched the small silver cross on his chest and kissed it, asking the pilgrim who was swaying.

"Of course, look at this," said the pilgrim turned his back and carefully picked up a piece of filthy rag in the carriage. "This is the fragment of clothing left by St. Thomas when he attended the King's daughter's wedding banquet in Sendaruk City!"

"Hmm?" Liberty Governor Pierre bent down with interest, put his face in front of the pilgrim's palm, and watched the saint's rags at close range.

This is a piece of rag that is stuck to the mud and emits a rotten smell, with traces of insects on it. I believe it has been polished for many years.

"When I was traveling in Sendaruk, I helped a family of noble officials to drive away the evil curse that lingered them with rare crystals produced under the Kiefhoyze Mountains. As a thank you, their family gave me this holy object passed down from generation to generation."

The pilgrim spoke passionately in a tone that was as nice as a bard, making people feel comfortable.

"If I have it, what kind of blessing will it bring to me?" Liemon Pierre's eyes shone brightly when he heard it, and he asked the pilgrim urgently.

"Well, St. Thomas is one of Jesus' thirteen disciples. He touched the crucified wound on Jesus' body on the day of Resurrection. So, when you die and get buried, put this piece of clothing left by St. Thomas into the grave pit, and you can also be reborn like Jesus!"

Liberty Pierre stared at the piece of rags blankly, rubbed his eyes, as if he saw the rags emitting a faint yellow holy light.

"Friend, two Transnier silver coins, you can own it!"

"What, it's so expensive!" Other serfs and free farmers who were interested in purchasing retreated one after another.

They don't have that much money. Of course, if the pilgrims only sell ten copper coins, they will definitely be beaten to death for this sacred rag.

"I bought it," Pierre, a freeborn, looked sore, which emptied the savings he had saved from three years of hard work. "Wait for me, I'll go back and get the money!"

After Pierre said that, he was impatient to drill out the crowd, while other villagers asked the pilgrims to introduce some cheaper goods, and the scene was even lively.

"Wait, Pierre."

When Pierre squeezed out the crowd, he heard someone calling his name.

"Ri'an, my master!" Pierre turned around and saw that it was Simon.

"The pilgrim said nothing, how do you know if he is lying to you? I believe that you definitely don't want to spend two Transnier silver coins to buy an ordinary piece of rag that he used to eloquence, right?"

"Oh no, my master!" Pierre thought about it and found that Simon's words made sense.

He had not seen the pilgrim with his own eyes prove whether the holy objects he was selling had magical effects in his mouth. If it was a scam, he would have lost all his money.

"It's very simple, just verify it like this..."

……………………

Liberty Governor Pierre returned to the carriage and found that Father James was also coming, and several villagers had already worn amulets or held a gorgeously colored feather in their hands.

When everyone's eyes turned to Pierre, they were surprised to find that Pierre did not bring a purse, but a logging axe that he used to chop firewood in his home.

"Oh, my friend, you're finally back! But I don't seem to smell the silver coins. Are you going to use this ragged axe as two silver coins to exchange for my holy relics?"

When the pilgrim saw that Pierre did not bring the silver coins as promised, his face instantly became cold, his tone was not as gentle as before, and he also felt a little disdain and mocking.

"Hahahahahahaha!"

"Hahaha, Pierre, are you in a broken head?"

The villagers around were amused and laughed. Everyone knew that Pierre's axe was worth at most five copper coins.

"Sir, since your holy object has such magical effects and can bring people back to life, then I would like to ask you to verify it yourself. If this holy object really has magical effects as you said, I will pay you two Transnier silver coins." Pierre smiled and weighed the axe in his hand.

"What do you want to do?" The pilgrim opened his eyes wide in shock and fear, and took a step back with some vigilance.

"I will cut your head with an axe now, and then ask the gravedigger to help you dig a grave pit and bury it with this piece of cloth. If you are resurrected, I will pay you two Transnier silver coins. In this way, for you, you have got the silver coins and experienced the resurrection yourself, which is very cost-effective!"

Pierre's words made the pilgrim shudder, and he was so scared that he was a little unscrupulous in his speech.

"First, don't do it first. Actually, I don't know if the noble official family has used this holy object before..."

"You damn liar, you dare to sell it out? Believe it or not, I will let you meet God now?" Pierre asked the hesitant pilgrim angrily.

"cut!"

"Pooh!"

Father James and the villagers were drinking the pilgrimage to the pilgrimage.

At this moment, Simon, behind the crowd, smiled, shook his head, and moved to the next stall.

From later generations, he knew that what so-called curses, amulets, and resurrections were called, and even if the flowers were spoken, they could not be changed.

However, the pilgrim's eloquence was indeed very powerful. He could fool the foolish villagers in a few words.

Simon just promised that if Pierre's holy object was really effective, he would pay the two Transnier silver coins, so Pierre picked up the axe and directly revealed the pilgrim's true pilgrim's true feelings.

No longer thinking about these things, Simon came to another carriage.

There are many ceramic bottles on this carriage. Each bottle has a different symbol. The mouth of the bottle is tightly sealed by cork, making people wonder what is inside.

Behind the carriage was an old man with white temples as white as snowflakes and wrinkles on his face. He wore a bright blue felt hat and a green tunic robe, and he looked like a potion merchant.

"Hello, this respected lord, do you need anything?" The pharmacy merchant bowed slightly and bowed to Simon, and said modestly.

"You are a pharmacist, right?" Simon felt very novel.

After Simon traveled over, he rarely saw the pharmacist.

In addition to the town of Cologne, there are special potion shops in Wiesbaden and Dresden. He has only seen similar herbs in the wilderness forests on his journey, or an alchemist who also takes care of pharmaceuticals in the town.

"That's right, lord, unlike those ignorant alchemists and herbal witchcraft women in the wild forest, I am professional." When talking about his old profession, the old pharmacist's tone was a little excited and replied proudly.

"Professional?" Simon scratched his head with interest and looked at the rosy pharmacist with confusion.

"Yes, the prescriptions I have mastered have been carefully studied and passed down from generation to generation in the family. I can understand the herbal works written in Latin, and can also accurately grasp the dosage of each raw material for the preparation based on my years of experience."

"So that's it. Very good. Come and introduce your potion to me," Simon nodded and picked up a bottle of potion with white paint from the carriage with an eye painted in white paint. "What kind of potion is this?"

"Owl potion," said the pharmacy merchant, took the potion from Simon's hand, opened the cork bottle, and handed it back to Simon's hand. "This is made of a large amount of millet grass powder, tiny amounts of belladonna slices and cave mushrooms, which can make the drinker see as clearly as an owl in the dark."

Simon put his nose to the mouth of the bottle and sniffed it. A spicy, fishy and irritating smell made him sneeze.

"This prescription was brought back by my grandfather from the Lombardy region. It is said that in order to make the pupils bigger and more beautiful, the ladies there would drip the juice of belladona into their eyes. Although this caused irreversible damage to their eyesight and even blindness, people there also discovered that trace amounts of belladona toxin can enhance people's night vision."

"After our family has been constantly improving over the years, the owl potion I have prepared now can prevent the drinker from being harmed and can gain night vision enhancement all night. How about Sir, do you want to buy some for your soldiers?"
Chapter completed!