The Town of Shining Stone (1)

Marmaros, a town famous for its marble production, lies toward the southwestern part of Siglea.

In other words, it does not border the dangerous Great Man-Eating Swamp; within Siglea, at least, it is a town located relatively far from danger.

Of course, in a place where the threat of monsters was so close, they probably could not leisurely quarry stone, so that was only natural.

On my way to Siglea, I spoke with traveling merchants and others and gathered a fair amount of information about the famous sculptors in this country.

However, most of the sculptors whose names I learned along the way had been born into families with deep ties to the Church spanning generations—in other words, they were all specialists in carving statues of saints recognized by the gods or the Church.

Of course, I had no intention of calling that a bad thing, but their skill at expressing things within the forms prescribed by the Church was somewhat different from what I was looking for.

Besides, I could not imagine a sculptor with close ties to the Church teaching an outsider like me—someone who was not merely lacking in faith but had no respect whatsoever for the existence of the gods.

But that was precisely why I had come to the town of Marmaros, famous for its marble.

That was because the most unconventional of the famous sculptors whose names I had heard during my travels was Count Maios Marmaros, the lord of this town.

This time, I had come to Siglea to learn the techniques of sculpture—to pursue art, in other words—but at heart, this was a country of martial prowess.

It faced the dangerous Great Man-Eating Swamp, stopping and defeating the monsters that flowed from it.

To that end, it devoted itself to maintaining its military strength and also received support from other countries.

The professions generally held in high regard in this country were military ones, such as soldiers and knights who fought monsters on the front lines, while famous adventurers were also quite popular.

That did not mean other professions were looked down upon, of course, but the belief that those at the rear existed to support those fighting at the front was deeply rooted.

And this was not merely true within the country: since Siglea stood in the line of fire, fighting to hold back the monsters from the dangerous zone, the people of Dolbogarde in the rear naturally ought to provide it with generous support.

Apparently, that was how the people of Siglea thought.

Well, I could understand that perspective from Siglea’s point of view, since they really did face and hold back monsters, presumably at no small cost in lives, but as an outsider like me, I could not help feeling that their way of thinking was rather one-sided.

And if even ordinary people thought that way, then nobles, who had to present a strong front to the populace, were even more inclined in that direction.

Yet despite being one of Siglea’s nobles, Count Marmaros was famous as a sculptor.

He took no heed of being scorned as effete, loved art, and created works himself; he was unquestionably a free spirit and an eccentric.

Although he governed his domain himself, he merely sent a representative to fulfill his military obligations rather than going in person; what was more, he reportedly did not even wear a sword, considering it too rough and uncouth.

Instead, he collected precious works of art and created them with his own hands as well.

He was particularly renowned for his sculptures, which employed innovative techniques inspired by other artistic fields and bold ideas that ignored the styles prescribed by the Church.

Whether I would actually ask to become his apprentice was another matter, but naturally, hearing such stories piqued my interest.

Moreover, while the Church called marble a treasure bestowed by the Fertility Goddess and bought it up as something special, he could create works freely without worrying about the Church’s wishes precisely because he was the ruler of the place where it was produced.

In other words, if I wanted to work with marble, I could do no better than to establish a connection with Count Marmaros.

Ah... If I asked the earth spirits, finding a deposit of marble that humans had yet to discover and quarrying it would be easy enough, but once transporting it entered the equation, that would be more than a little troublesome.

I set foot in the town of Marmaros, famous for producing the shining stone known as marble.

The town of Marmaros made its living by processing and trading marble transported from the quarries.

Put simply, it was an extremely wealthy town.

When one heard of a town famous for marble, one might imagine many laborers living there to work at the quarries, but apparently they had built villages and lived closer to the quarries.

The town’s defining features were its neatly organized layout and well-maintained roads.

This was so wagons loaded with marble could enter the town smoothly from the quarries, and so the marble and finished goods after a transaction was complete could likewise be transported out smoothly by wagon.

The separation of wagon and pedestrian traffic, along with the sidewalks, was probably intended to reduce accidents in which people were run over by wagons carrying cargo.

The gates for entering and leaving the town were wide and spacious.

The inspections for entry and exit were not particularly strict; although the fact that an elf had visited attracted curious looks, no trouble arose.

The frequent wagon traffic made the dust a little bothersome, but the roads were properly cleaned, leaving me with the impression that it was a pleasant, open town.

The ruler probably paid meticulous attention to the town.

Above all, marble statues stood in conspicuous places throughout the town—not literally at every turn, but often enough to catch the eye.

For example, in a park where I happened to stop, an intricately carved marble giant wolf stood watch over passersby, blending beautifully with the surrounding plants and trees.

The marble’s hardness and chill expressed the giant wolf’s aloof pride... and yet I sensed a strange warmth in its stone-carved fur and gaze.

When I asked an old man resting on a bench in the park, he told me that it was, indeed, a work by Count Marmaros, the ruler of this town.

And the old man who told me this was so brimming with pride and warmth that, from that alone, I understood how dearly the residents loved their town’s ruler, even though he was scorned as effete in Siglea.