The Medicine Dregs, Not a Drop Left

Hippolyta looked around and, seeing that no one was around, pursed her cherry lips and couldn't help but whisper a reminder under the guise of tidying up the chessboard.

"Now that we've done what we needed to do, we might as well return to the City of Seven Hills as soon as possible, or go via Greece. After all, your injuries haven't fully healed yet, and you can only recuperate in peace if you leave the enemy country."

Samael picked up the knight from the chessboard that resembled Hassan and smiled nonchalantly.

"If Rome were truly safe, Romulus wouldn't have fallen; Greece is already heavily fortified and in a predicament. If another true god were to appear, I can't guarantee a safe retreat."

"But Persia..."

"The most dangerous place is also the safest place. As long as the few people who know the truth keep their mouths shut, no one will think that I am recuperating right under Cyrus's nose."

"Indeed, it is incredible that you managed to turn Persia's sharpest hidden blade with just a few words."

Hippolyta pondered for a moment and was deeply impressed by the wisdom of this Greek philosopher.

"Old friend, some people can be persuaded, but they only want to be persuaded..."

Samael fiddled with the chess pieces in the box with great interest, then glanced at the Amazon Queen with a meaningful look in his eyes.

"On the night Romulus fell, an assassin with zero experience and no prior experience in sniping infiltrated the Roman government hall to carry out the assassination."

"..."

"She didn't even have a clear understanding of the target's information. That night was my shift."

"..."

"Furthermore, due to the urgency of the war, the Assassins' Order, who usually accompanied the Persian army on campaigns, were instead huddled together in the Eagle's Nest basking in the sun."

"You mean!"

Hippolyta seemed to realize something, and her face lit up with sudden understanding.

"Some things are better left unsaid, even if you see through them..."

The ancient snake smiled lazily, then glanced at the little girl with short, light purple hair who was walking towards them, holding a pottery jar. She raised her hand in a warm greeting.

He did indeed come to keep the appointment, and as the invited person.

The old man's eyes were very sharp; it seemed that after that encounter in the City of Seven Hills, he probably had a new plan.

After the Evening Bell Temple's rebuttal, Samael conveniently solidified this answer, giving each of them a plausible reason.

Whether it's Rome's struggle for survival or the rise of the Arabs.

Their words were not only meant for each other, but also for the Romans and mountain people behind them.

However, before things settle down, it's best to keep Cain hidden.

At this moment, the Hassan of the Stillness, carrying a clay pot, timidly approached the stone table and poured the stewed local specialty drink, Jellab, for the two guests to taste. He was delighted by the praise in response.

On a whim, Samael reached out and patted the poisonous woman's head to show encouragement and affection.

There's a compensatory Calamity Jane about close contact; one enjoys the warm head pat while cautiously approaching.

Seeing that Samael did not show any sign of rejection, the little girl gradually grew bolder, wrapped her hands around the ancient snake's waist, gently embraced it, pressed her cheek against its chest, lowered her head, and nuzzled it with ecstasy.

Pairs of eyes, some mocking, some envious, and some resentful, were cast from every nook and cranny of the village, focusing on Samael.

No wonder the Assassins' Order are getting worse and worse; it turns out you're all busy slacking off and spying, not doing your jobs properly.

Sensing the source of those prying eyes, the ancient snake muttered to itself and patted Calamity Jane's shoulder repeatedly.

Little Hassan, nestled in his arms, yawned, rubbed his sleepy eyes, and reluctantly got up.

Samael looked down at the wet patch on his chest and the glistening drool on Calamity Jane's lips, and immediately rubbed his forehead, feeling both amused and exasperated.

You can even fall asleep like this? You're really something. Being Hassan is a waste of your talents. You should become a mascot instead.

"Wake up. If you're sleepy, go back to your room and sleep."

The little girl, still half asleep, was gently shaken awake. Noticing the mess she had left behind, her face flushed red, and she hurriedly picked up the pottery jar and ran away.

Samael watched the little carrier pigeon stumble three times, bump into the wall twice, and then stagger into his bedroom, his expression stiffening.

Now, he no longer knows whether what's happening is an unintentional act by Xu Weijing while he's Calamity Jane, or whether the little girl has developed an addiction to close contact and wants to make a legitimate nighttime raid.

"Your preference is somewhat unexpected; perhaps I should summon Penthesilea..."

Hippolyta glanced wistfully at the small, inexperienced figure that skillfully slipped into Samael's room, and her murmured words carried a hint of melancholy.

"Sorry, I'm not interested in an underdeveloped washboard, but someone like you should be careful about your personal safety."

Samael's face darkened, he rolled his eyes at her, and complained irritably.

As is well known, based on the facial features of this Amazon Queen, as long as a person gets enough nutrition, it is easy for fat to accumulate in the chest area.

The Rose Emperor of Rome, the Lion King of Britain, and the Saint of France all testify to this truth.

"So you're interested in this body. Although it's not your Day of Procreation yet, I can stay in your room tonight."

"Ahem, I appreciate the kind offer..."

"Are you not satisfied? If you have any other needs, once we return to the City of Seven Hills, I can order the warriors I brought to serve you together."

Hippolyta bit her cherry lips, her face full of eagerness, her eyes flashing with an unusual flame, a heat that almost cooked Samael.

Amazons never play games.

Five thousand fair-skinned, beautiful women with long legs lined up—that sight is truly enticing...

"Thank you, but I refuse!"

Samael imagined that vast and magnificent scene, his Adam's apple bobbing unconsciously, but then his expression turned solemn, and he gave a righteous and stern reply.

If those 5,000 wild horses of the Amazon were to start lurching along, even if he were a god with an iron body, within a few months, he would be barely able to walk without leaning against the wall; he might even be squeezed dry.

Not a single drop left!

Moreover, he hadn't forgotten that Queen Hippolyta truly intended to capture him and take him back to her tribe as breeding livestock.

Seeing that the plan was futile, the Amazon Queen withdrew her burning gaze with considerable regret, her expression turned serious, and she tactfully changed the subject.

"Your Highness, what should I do next?"

"Wait..."

The ancient snake stroked its chin, slowly uttered a single word, then looked up at the distant southwest horizon and gave a sinister smile.

"And by the way, send a letter to that Pharaoh and light a fire."

The first step isn't over yet; playing chess requires patience.

Hippolyta, recalling what she had seen recently, knew that the influence and tyranny of the Persians over the mountain people would be difficult to eradicate in a short time, and she couldn't help but worry about Samael's safety.

"But even if that old man is trustworthy, it's hard to guarantee that all Assassins share the same idea. The longer it drags on, the lower your safety will be..."

"Isn't there still you?"

The man standing in the mountain wind turned his head, smiled, and spoke.

Hippolyta was taken aback at first, then her brow relaxed and she nodded emphatically.

"Yes, I will risk my life to ensure your safety!"