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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Four:
Creak.
The heavy wooden door was pushed open, and Freya, dressed in a White Robe, walked in.
Although the tavern was shabby, it was quite spacious; however, the dim lighting concealed much of her face in shadows.
The cheerful sound of violins mixed with the clinking of glasses and the loud chatter of people created a lively and noisy atmosphere throughout the tavern.
Freya frowned slightly and gently covered her mouth and nose with her hand, as the unpleasant smell of cheap Barley Beer and sweat made her feel somewhat uncomfortable.
Her arrival did not attract anyone's attention; only the attendant at the bar glanced at her briefly before rushing over.
The attendant was a ghost about thirteen or fourteen years old, dressed in a brown linen outfit. He discreetly scanned Freya's attire from head to toe and then immediately put on a courteous smile as he introduced himself.
"Excuse me, miss, what would you like to drink? We have excellent Wine and Barley Beer here that you definitely wouldn't want to miss."
Ignoring his demeanor, Freya replied coolly.
"No need, you can go now."
Her cold voice startled the young ghost for a moment; the words that had been on his lips seemed to be stuck as if controlled by something. He blinked at Freya's bright blue eyes, momentarily dazed, and then surprisingly did as she said and left.
The tavern was crowded and diverse; besides women making a living, there were also musicians playing violins.
Freya narrowed her eyes and scanned the room before her gaze settled on a specific spot in a corner.
A young man dressed in a black swordsman's outfit was sitting there.
His brown hair fell casually over his shoulders, and he had a handsome face. A finely crafted black greatsword leaned against the edge of the table, but what stood out the most were his light golden eyes, bright and piercing, giving off a subtle sense of sharp aggression.
At that moment, he was savoring an expensive wine in his hand, seemingly unaffected by the noisy environment around him.
Seeing this noble swordsman who looked like he had just come from a prestigious family, Freya raised an eyebrow.
If it weren't for the parchment clearly stating that this person was the one she was looking for, perhaps even she would have been deceived.
Because this was vastly different from the impression Hegel's Abyss Contract had left on her.
One was a sinister bald man, while the other was strikingly handsome.
It was hard to believe they belonged to the same person.
After thinking for a moment, Freya walked towards the bar.
The bartender, still somewhat dazed from earlier events, froze for a moment when he saw Freya approaching.
"Sister. You..."
"Tell me, who is that person?" Freya suddenly fixed her gaze on him and pulled out a silver coin, placing it on the bar.
"Uh..."
Upon seeing the silver coin, he blinked and his previously clear gaze turned somewhat bewildered again.
Following the direction of Freya's finger, the companion spoke in a low voice.
"That is Belster, the vice captain of the Blackwing Wind's Third Squad."
"Blackwing Wind?" Freya frowned slightly.
That was a mercenary organization in Raymond City, and their captain was originally a formidable individual on the verge of breaking through to Great Knight. However, after sustaining severe injuries during a mission, he lost that hope. As a result, they could only be considered second-rate in the local mercenary scene.
"Is he hiding his identity and lying low to recover?" she murmured to herself.
Mercenaries often engage in combat; even if some commonly used necromantic resources are unavailable, certain things from corpses can still be of help.
However, even if she could guess that he might not have fully recovered from his old injuries, Freya still did not want to act rashly.
The power of the Necromancy Department is not limited to controlling corpses; they are equally adept at curses and hunting.
After pondering for a moment, Freya took another look at the handsome swordsman in the distance before turning and leaving the tavern.
...
A bright silver moon hung in the sky, with not a single cloud in sight.
The bustling tavern gradually fell silent as time passed.
Although Raymond City was not a city with a curfew, some people left the tavern one after another for the sake of their daily lives.
The streetlights had long been taken down, but the moonlight still illuminated the entire street.
A young swordsman named Belster walked quietly on the way back to the Mercenary group.
A small amount of red wine made his vision slightly dizzy, and it seemed to alleviate the persistent pain in his abdomen.
The weight of the great sword on his back pressed down on him, and the sharp blade reflected a faint cold light under the silver moon.
However, even so, it still did not bring him any sense of security.
He lightly exhaled a breath of wine-scented air and shook his head to clear his mind.
Turning a corner, he noticed a shop that had not yet closed for the night, still glowing with dim yellow light in a nearby corner.
From there, he could vaguely hear the cheerful laughter of a girl inside.
He merely glanced over before retracting his gaze.
However, as he turned back, he suddenly realized that a figure known as Tall Shadow had appeared in front of him from the shadows without him noticing.
Most of that person stood in the shadows, with only their legs exposed to the moonlight, but he still felt a cold gaze and an indistinct scent of blood emanating from them.
A hint of killing intent made him slightly alert, and his right hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his great sword.
"Who are you?"
A deep voice echoed in the silent street.
However, the person hidden in the shadows remained silent.
Just as he was about to ask again, the person standing in the shadows suddenly moved.
With a soft sound, a faint gray shadow almost instantly appeared in front of him.
"Ding!"
A Black Dagger accurately pierced his Heart, but was blocked by something inside.
This sudden situation startled him, causing him to immediately retreat while drawing the giant sword from his back, staring intently at the attacker.
A drop of cold sweat slowly slid down his long hair.
With the first attack missing, the assailant fully revealed himself.
He was a tall, burly middle-aged man with short black hair and a serious face, dressed in plain brown Leather Armor, but his eyes were slightly squinted, looking at him with a mocking gaze.
Seeing the man's appearance, Belster was momentarily stunned, then showed an expression of disbelief.
"It's you! Lott! Why?"
The questioning tone elicited a hint of amusement from the middle-aged man, revealing his white teeth in a smile.
"Belster, why? How can someone like you, who lacks any sense of presence, sit in the position of vice-captain? You dare to ask me why?"
"You’re wrong; you couldn’t possibly have this kind of courage. Who is it? Is it Jela?" His emotions were clearly starting to spiral out of control.
"Ha ha, no need to guess," he grinned. "It's useless, just go ahead and die."
As soon as the words left his mouth, his figure blurred again, and he lunged forward like a shadow.
The black giant sword was raised to block the vital points, but it was still too slow; this time the dagger aimed directly for the eyes.
'Clang!'
A crisp sound of metal clashing rang out as he hurriedly extended his arm to shield his face.
The dagger struck his arm but surprisingly did not pierce through. Seeing this, the middle-aged man yanked the dagger back forcefully, easily tearing the fabric of the arm.
A glimmer of metal was exposed to the middle-aged man's sight, causing his eyes to brighten slightly.
"Ha ha, just as I thought, it's this thing. It seems that person was right; rather than letting it stay with you useless trash, it’s better off with me!"
As he spoke, he pulled out two more Black Daggers from behind and lunged at Belster.
'Clang clang clang.'
The crisp sounds echoed continuously in the street.
Belster's black giant sword was tossed aside as he crossed his arms over his head, desperately trying to block the attacks, leaving him almost too exhausted to speak.
This desperate appearance was almost incongruous with his handsome looks and piercing gaze.
However, the middle-aged man named Lott felt increasingly uneasy as the fight continued.
Although he was only a novice Knight, even some Intermediate Knights could be harmed if they were not careful with the use of daggers.
However, the ordinary Squire in front of him, known as White Face, was able to defend against all attacks solely with the item he possessed.
This made him, who had always been cautious, feel somewhat strange.
"Swish!"
A circle of white air suddenly erupted beneath his feet, and the dagger once again lunged at an awkward angle towards the gap between his arms.
Belster, who had been advancing, slightly turned his body to block it.
However, at that moment, the dagger in the other hand suddenly appeared in the opening behind his head.
"It's over!" (To be continued)
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