Chapter 771: The Count of Barlin’s Surprise

In the ever-evolving city of Cecil, new things were constantly emerging.

Any competent imperial governor or regional administrator would naturally take an interest in these innovations.

After a brief pause, Victoria turned to the Count of Barlin. “Perhaps we should go see it for ourselves.”

“You mean that new-style play?” The count was momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t expected the usually aloof and reportedly theater-disinterested Ice Duchess to suggest such a thing. But he quickly realized she was probably intrigued by the “magical engineering” behind the production. Nodding eagerly, he said, “Of course. It’s definitely worth seeing—magical engineering can be applied in so many ways. I’m curious how it ties into theater.”

“Find out where it’s being performed,” Victoria said flatly. “Let’s go.”

It didn’t take long to learn the location of the new theater. Following directions from passersby, Victoria and her entourage soon arrived near a large building in the southern district.

The building itself was surprisingly unremarkable. Unlike the grand theaters the count was used to—ornate venues reserved for nobles and wealthy citizens—this was a plain, boxy two-story structure. Aside from its size, there was nothing particularly elegant or lavish about it.

Yet around this modest building, a sizable crowd had already gathered.

A quick glance revealed mostly ordinary townsfolk.

Bundled in various winter clothes, the eager crowd had clearly been waiting for some time. Those on the outskirts craned their necks toward the theater entrance, while closer in, uniformed security personnel maintained order. People chatted and laughed loudly, and enterprising vendors pushed carts around the square, hawking snacks and drinks.

The lively scene startled the Count of Barlin. In his memory, theater entrances never drew such crowds. And the audience was always well-dressed, arriving in carriages with their stewards, gentlemen and ladies entering gracefully under the watchful eyes of attendants. There was no such raucous atmosphere here.

“So many people… all here for that new-style play?” The count’s eyes widened. “All commoners? Is Cecil really so prosperous that everyone can afford theater tickets?”

“My lord, I heard a ticket costs only a few copper coins—six Aels in the new currency,” a servant who had gone to inquire said with some disbelief. “And since this is the premiere, the price is halved…”

“Three Aels!” The count nearly popped his eyes out. “That’s practically giving it away!”

He then whipped his head toward the square, staring at the dense crowd in disbelief. “By the gods and our ancestors! No wonder so many have come. Even those uninterested in theater wouldn’t hesitate to spend a few coins out of curiosity. But with so many people flooding in, how can the actors perform? How can order be maintained?”

“It’s bound to get chaotic, my lord,” another noble from the capital shook his head. “And… look, it’s already quite disorderly here.”

As the noble finished speaking, the shouts of the vendors around the square pierced the count’s ears—loud, sharp calls that seemed to drill straight into his head:

“Fresh, crispy fried potatoes! The best fries in Cecil!”

“Try a fish roll! Comes with spicy sauce!”

“Queueing in winter? You need a bottle of anti-cold potion—the finest frost resistance elixir! Handcrafted by Old Sam, fifty-two degrees of savory flavor!”

“My head aches,” the count muttered, clutching his forehead. “This is nothing like what I imagined…”

“Anti-frost potions that are actually brewed?” an accompanying official asked curiously, glancing toward the square. “And sold out here?”

“Resistance potions are very cheap in the southern regions,” Victoria explained calmly, clearly familiar with the subject. “The diluents for frost resistance potions are even sold as health tonics. Locals and merchants traveling the north-south trade routes add spices or honey to these diluents as warming drinks for the journey.”

The count’s eyes grew wide. He almost blurted out, “This place is truly mad,” but caught himself, remembering this was the imperial capital. Instead, he forced a somewhat awkward expression and said, “So… Your Highness, you still want to see it?”

“Of course. I’m even more interested now,” Victoria said coolly, glancing at the count. “Also, let’s drop the formal titles here—it doesn’t fit the atmosphere.”

“Y-yes, Your… Ladyship,” the count stammered, then helplessly looked to his servant. “Well… let’s buy the tickets then.”

The servant went off to purchase tickets but returned quickly with unexpected news.

“Sold out?” The count was dumbfounded. “Not a single ticket left?”

“Yes, sir,” the servant said apologetically. “They sold out two hours ago.”

Cecil was a city where new things appeared almost daily. Its people were bold and eager to try novelties—especially now that a new-style play was available for just three Aels, open to all citizens. As the count himself had said, for ordinary people who had never set foot in a theater, even a few coins spent out of curiosity was worthwhile. Cecil’s residents were famously curious.

Three Aels—even if the play was dull, just seeing the theater’s chairs and ceiling was worth it. Many came with that mindset.

The count glanced at the duchess who had suggested coming here. He expected her to lose interest or even be annoyed at the wasted time—after all, her public image was anything but patient or gentle. But Victoria’s next words surprised him.

“Ask around nearby to see if anyone is willing to sell their tickets,” she said calmly, giving surprisingly detailed instructions with unusual patience. “Be polite. We can pay extra, but don’t force anyone.”

Her tone was flat, her expression as cold as ever. But anyone familiar with her would recognize this as a sign of genuine enthusiasm.

A servant nodded and prepared to follow orders.

At that moment, footsteps approaching directly toward them caught the attention of the count and Victoria’s party.

As high-level supernaturals, they easily sensed the unmistakable approach aimed at them.

The count looked up, following his intuition, and saw a man in a padded coat walking their way.

Victoria subtly signaled her attendants to stand down and looked at the approaching man, asking coolly, “Can I help you?”

The plain-looking man seemed momentarily intimidated by Victoria’s imposing aura and striking appearance. He looked nervous but quickly spoke up. “I saw you seemed troubled… is it about the tickets?”

The count nodded. “We wanted to buy tickets, but they’re sold out.”

“Ah, that figures,” the man smiled sincerely. “I happened to buy tickets in advance with some friends, but they can’t come today. I have a few extras. Want them? One Fynar each. I know it’s more than face value, but I waited in line forever too…”

The count opened his mouth to protest, but Victoria cut in, “We’ll take them.”

Then she turned to the count. “Barlin, pay up.”

“B-but…” The count stammered, but under those icy, crystalline eyes, he fished out his money like any commoner and bought several tickets printed with “Philm Entertainment Company” and “Three’s Company Theater.”

After the man left, the count whispered, “Victoria… Lady, you shouldn’t trust that man. He’s clearly scalping…”

“I know,” Victoria said calmly.

“Then…”

“Just… interesting,” she said casually, lifting her gaze toward the theater entrance not far off. “This place is definitely more interesting than the capital.”

“But that is disruptive. We can’t ignore it.”

“I saw some constables at the edge of the square. One of you should report it.”

Victoria’s tone lifted slightly, as if her mood had brightened.

After a while, the crowd began to stir.

Victoria’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Barlin, looks like it’s time to enter. Let’s witness this for ourselves.”

…

Guided by the flow of people and staff directions, the Count of Barlin finally stepped inside what he considered a rather odd “theater” and found seats for their party among rows of tiered chairs.

Out of gentlemanly duty and instinct as a subordinate, he tried to shield the Ice Duchess from the jostling crowd, even taking several bumps himself. But once seated, he realized it was impossible to maintain such “decency” and “protection.”

The seats were packed shoulder to shoulder, filled with people.

More people had come here than the count had ever seen in any theater in the capital. The seating was far denser.

All around him were countless commoners—or rather, imperial citizens—so close that the nobleman from the capital felt a faint sense of suffocation.

He was completely out of his element.

Yet Victoria showed no discomfort or annoyance. The protector of the northern mountains sat quietly, her gaze casually sweeping the crowd. Though expressionless, the count guessed she was genuinely interested and curious.

On the path of “adapting to the new order,” he was far behind this duchess.

“This kind of venue should have fire safety and crowd control measures planned in advance,” Victoria suddenly said. “Don’t you agree, Barlin?”

“Me? Ah, yes, of course,” the count stammered, barely processing the thought. “There are so many people and the seats are packed tightly. They definitely need to consider that… I wonder if they have any plans in place.”

Another noble from the royal capital glanced curiously at the stage. “There’s no actor, no scenery, no props… Could it be that they just haven’t set it up yet?”

Count Barin instinctively looked up at the stage upon hearing this, and sure enough, he noticed the same oddity.

At the far end of the fan-shaped seating area, where the stage should have been, there wasn’t a single performer in sight—nor any backdrop or props.

He squinted hard and finally made out a few magic network bases placed on the platform, along with some crystal devices arranged in a specific pattern.

Slowly, the Count pieced it together—and grew even more puzzled. So… this so-called new style of theater is actually just projections from magic network terminals?

…

Outside the “Three Travelers” theater, the once-crowded square had suddenly quieted down as most people had gone inside.

Those still lingering were a mix of vendors, curious passersby, and a handful of security personnel.

A man in a dark cotton coat hurried along the edge of the square, a pleased smile hidden beneath his low hat.

But just as he reached the entrance to a nearby alley and was about to turn in, several uniformed security officers suddenly appeared around him.

Startled, the man spun to run, but before he could take a step, one of the officers raised a hand and unleashed a small bolt of lightning that knocked him flat to the ground.

Several officers swarmed him, pinning the struggling man who was trying desperately to scream. The lead officer pulled out a pair of small shackles and scolded loudly, clearly annoyed:

“It’s you again! Always you!

“You were there when the magic train first started selling tickets, at the first football match ticket sales, and even when the first zoo opened!

“And now, with the Shadow Theater’s first ticket sale, you’re here again!

“For the rest of the month, you’ll be spending your time by the pipes at the security bureau!”

In ever-changing Cecil, new things were constantly emerging…

(Happy holidays~~)

(The End of this Chapter)