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墨書 Inktalez
The next morning, Sharg arrived at the Rental Apartment.
"I don't think knocking before entering is a hassle," Garen said, chewing on a can of beef, watching as the window on the second floor was pushed open from the outside, and a dark figure slipped in.
"Is that so? It's quite convenient," Sharg replied nonchalantly, picking up a piece of bread from the table and taking a bite.
"But it's dangerous," Garen said, pinching the bridge of his nose. This remark wasn't about the risk of falling from the second floor; rather, in that moment, Garen had almost drawn his sword...
Sharg seemed uninterested in joking. After swallowing the chunk of bread, he gulped down a large cup of water and let out a satisfied sigh.
"I went in the day before yesterday."
Went in?
Garen paused for a moment before realizing what Sharg meant, smiling as he asked, "She must have been very happy, right?"
Talina had waited many years to see Sharg again; it was easy to imagine how excited she would be. However, upon hearing this, Sharg's expression turned strange as he recalled that day when Talina hugged him like a child, bringing out toys and wanting to play games, even humming a childhood song... Sharg had felt utterly bewildered at that time.
But speaking of happiness, Talina had undoubtedly been joyful that day.
Though it was somewhat difficult to face those memories, thinking of Talina's smiling face brought a smile to Sharg's lips.
"She has already left. Edward will take her to the capital; the grand cathedral there is where Talina has always wanted to go. They can also seek treatment for her illness while they're at it," Sharg continued.
With the closing of Iron Fist Tavern, Edward had some free time on his hands. In addition to being closest to Talina in town, he had Aurei's wealth and his own savings accumulated over many years. It made sense for him to spend on this trip to the capital.
Most importantly, everyone knew that Talina's condition was dire. Even though the capital had excellent facilities, unless they could hire a Third Tier healing mage, no one could save her. Therefore, this trip could be seen as fulfilling one of Talina's wishes.
However, Garen detected a hint of something else in Sharg's tone.
"And what about you?" Garen asked.
"I'm leaving too," Sharg shrugged. "This little town holds no meaning for me. Talina is gone, and I have no reason to stay."
So, Sharg was here to say goodbye.
Garen remained silent for a long time. "Good luck."
There is no banquet that does not end. After spending a long time together, Garen had come to accept Sharg as a companion. Although he felt some reluctance, he knew he could not hold back Sharg's steps. It was better to wish him well on his future journey and look forward to their next meeting.
Sharg left.
Though there was some reluctance, Garen had long since grown accustomed to farewells. After finishing breakfast, he completed two sets of Muscle Training to continuously solidify his forcibly advanced level 11 Fighting Spirit. By the afternoon, he took out Berfant's blood essence and continued his research.
This drop of blood essence was indeed a treasure from Merlin's collection. Each observation brought Garen different sensations; sometimes it appeared as magnificent as a dormant volcano, other times as calm as a still pond, yet beneath the surface, there were hidden currents, as if boundless life was leaping within it at every moment.
For this drop of blood essence, Garen had even gone to search for information about the bloodline. Unfortunately, the available data was pitifully scarce. Even the recent Seventh Ancestor only contained fragmented notes, let alone the records from hundreds of years ago regarding Berfant and the Sixth Ancestor.
Garen wasn't particularly anxious to uncover anything specific; it was just that with the Watchtower nearing completion, he himself represented an extreme force. Every bit of strength he gained meant more stability for the Watchtower.
The process of observation also meant contemplation. In this drop of blood essence, Garen saw endless independent bloodlines manifesting in various forms—sometimes coalescing, sometimes dispersing—exhibiting countless shapes on a microscopic level while remaining unified on a macroscopic scale...
Half an hour passed, and Garen irritably ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath.
Bervant Blood was undoubtedly ever-changing, but it was precisely this "full of possibilities" nature that left Garen at a loss for where to begin; one could even say he had no clue at all.
"Wow!"
Pulling back the curtains, bright sunlight poured in. Garen took several deep breaths before calming down.
Following his gaze, he noticed a small figure crouched at the entrance of the hallway. It was Kailin! Garen had a vivid impression of the landlord's daughter. The little girl held a small shovel, and beside her was a delicate watering can, her tiny hands covered in dirt.
Was she planting flowers again?
Garen looked at the yellow petals in the small soil box and realized that this was not the same flower as before. Of course, a whole year had passed; it was unrealistic for that flower to still be alive now. Even with Garen's Fighting Spirit to help, it would only last another ten days or so.
The old flower had died, so new blooms must be planted.
Perhaps this could be seen as a continuation of life.
Yes, life...
Garen paused, suddenly feeling that pondering this question was akin to observing Bervant Blood. Whether it was flowers or the Progenitor of the Bloodline, weren't they all forms of life existing in the world?
No... not entirely... Garen felt that something important was still missing.
At that moment, Kailin finished spreading the soil and stood up, her youthful face lighting up with joy and excitement.
It was almost identical to the smile from last year...
Garen suddenly felt he understood something and quickly took out Bervant Blood to observe it.
After just three minutes of staring, an unprecedented wave of sleepiness washed over him like a tide...
The Yinclan Barony is located in the southern part of the Empire. In terms of scale, this land is unremarkable, easily forgotten among the many baronies. Its unique feature, however, is the variety of Fighting Arenas it hosts.
Baronies are mostly established to accommodate nobles. Baron Yinklang, in his youth, was a debauched aristocrat from the imperial capital who delighted in spending lavishly to purchase warrior slaves, throwing them into the Fighting Arenas to compete while betting against other nobles. This passion remained unchanged even after he became a Baron. Over the years, while the various constructions within his barony remained mediocre, the Fighting Arena became renowned throughout the south.
The reason is simple: large-scale Fighting Arenas require immense investment and face numerous risks of loss, while smaller arenas do not yield significant profits. Thus, only fighting enthusiasts like Yinklang would spend vast sums of gold to maintain them.
The Iron Battle Arena is the largest Fighting Arena under Yinclan Barony. It has received much attention and investment from the Baron over the years, boasting luxurious facilities and a substantial number of slaves that are among the finest in the entire southern region.
With a capacity of about three thousand spectators, its tiered seating rises like steps. When fans of combat rise to cheer, it creates a cascading wave of sound that is truly spectacular.
Today, the Iron Battle Arena is particularly lively, not only because of the final showdown between popular warriors Mankui and Leopard but also due to last year's champion, Rinia, presiding over the event.
Rinia is a monster personally trained by the Baron. With a level 12 Fighting Spirit and unparalleled combat skills, he stands at the top of his field. In last year's 746 duels, he achieved an astonishing record of complete victories!
Almost everyone present is an admirer of Rinia. When the black-haired man steps out, the audience erupts into cheers reminiscent of a volcanic eruption!
The two newly minted combat slaves are momentarily overshadowed by his brilliance, yet they do not feel angered; after all, Fighting Arenas have always revered strength. Rinia's power is unquestionable, and they willingly prostrate themselves at his feet.
"Dong!"
The battle bell rings out, and the crowd's shouts grow even more intense!
At that moment, two figures quietly enter the Fighting Arena as if strolling through a garden, eventually stopping between Mankui and Leopard.
They are two women?
"You two, come with me," a cold yet languid voice calls out.
The woman speaking wears a deep red cloak and stands tall, her long black hair flowing like ink in the wind. Behind her is another woman with her face covered in white gauze, respectfully bowing her head.
"I'm sorry, ma'am!" Rinia stepped forward. "This is not a place for you to be!"
Rinia's deep-set eyes scrutinized the woman in the Red Cloak. She was no older than twenty, with a delicate and stunning face that resembled a sculpture. Her lazy, indifferent gaze added an air of a cold beauty... But what stirred the heart the most was her devilish figure!
This was a young body! No, more accurately, it was a young and alluring body!
Rinia could vouch for it with last year's achievements; he had never seen such an enticing creature. He smiled meaningfully and said, "Of course, if you need anything... you can wait for me in the front row of the audience. I will..."
Before he could finish his sentence.
"Bang!"
A large hole exploded in the northern wall of the Fighting Arena!
Rinia was embedded at the center of the cracks, his head hanging low as blood dripped steadily.
The God of War,
was dead.
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