Upon reaching the tavern's front hall, Angel spotted Dox and Abruie at a glance.
Abruie sat blankly at a table in the corner like some pitiful little thing, while Dox was at the opposite end. They were seated so far apart entirely because Abruie feared Dox would slap Crown Parrot to death.
The tavern's front hall was exceedingly lively at the moment.
After downing a few drinks, Dox felt the alcohol going to his head and decided he was back in fighting form. He took the initiative to pick a verbal fight with Crown Parrot.
Dox had even been smugly thinking that, without Angel there to protect it this time, Crown Parrot would lose its nerve and perhaps be cowed into submission.
But Dox was completely wrong. Crown Parrot had a fiery temper—poke it, and it exploded.
Of course, Crown Parrot was not truly reckless. It had carefully assessed the situation and concluded that Dox definitely would not dare attack it here. Even if he did, for Angel's sake, he would not truly take its life.
Since it would not die, what was there to fear?
At first, because Dox had come prepared and had drafted a whole speech for the verbal battle in his mind, the exchange still went back and forth. But a verbal battle could not be won with a prepared script alone. It was like combat: whatever move the opponent made, even if you did not take it head-on, you still had to answer it.
No matter what move Dox had prepared, Crown Parrot could take it, and it could even follow that line of thought and continue spewing venom.
Dox held on for a few minutes, but he was already beginning to falter.
Yet Crown Parrot was still rattling on endlessly. You rarely heard it