Velin followed the crowd and applauded as well.
Then, a musical note fell before a gaunt-faced man on the second floor, drawing envious looks from the spectators.
"Let's go."
Velin patted Kyle on the shoulder.
Hearing this, Kyle rose, went to the counter to pay, then followed Velin out.
"My lord, there's a serious problem here."
"It seems these Shia people are gathering information." Velin shook his head to keep himself clear-minded and said quietly, "The singing has an effect that bewitches the mind. Aside from the two of us, everyone else has lowered their guard to some extent."
"That priest of the God of Melody must have come here with some purpose. I just don't know what information they're trying to uncover," Kyle replied with a nod.
"Report it when we return. There will naturally be people specially assigned to deal with it. We shouldn't concern ourselves with it and get dragged into some conspiracy."
"My lord is right."
These six months belonged to them. They could not waste them on such inexplicable matters. Specialized work should be left to specialized personnel.
Inside the commercial camp, there were people selling female slaves, armor, weapons, magic potions, and even themselves.
At the mouth of an alley, a large crowd had gathered to watch the excitement.
Relying on their burly physiques and Low-level Silver strength, the four attendants forced a path open for Velin and Kyle.
Once the onlookers sensed their strength, they dared not voice their anger. They tucked their tails between their legs and obediently made way.
As Velin stepped closer, he saw a Plainclothes Swordsman sitting cross-legged on the ground. Beside him stood a wooden board bearing the words: Selling my life, ten thousand Gold Coins.
"Kid, you're merely a Low-Silver Tier Warrior. What makes you think your