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The Copper Dragon's Storytelling Bar was the sort of tavern whose doors opened onto the street between Ponoan Market and Traveler's Bridge. It stayed open all night, catering to mercenaries, adventurers, prostitutes, and merchants peddling goods of questionable origin.

If one could tolerate the messy atmosphere and vulgar slang, it was actually a decent place to have fun. There was cheap ale, scantily clad waitresses, and food filling enough to satisfy an empty stomach. Even if you drank there all night, it would only cost a few copper coins—you could even whistle to your heart's content without worrying about the guards dragging you off to a dungeon for the night.

Yet as Freya approached this den of vice, she could not help feeling a little apprehensive. The country girl gripped her longsword tightly in both hands, her mind filled with the little tips Brando had given her.

Her small face flushed red as she lowered her head and cautiously made her way through the crowd. She was so frightened that even her ponytail drooped. Freya could not help imagining all sorts of things. What if someone suddenly molested her? Should she chop off his hand with one stroke? Or stab him with her sword?

She secretly glanced at the scantily dressed waitresses, and her ears immediately burned. How could they dress like that? They had no shame at all!

Holding her sword in both hands, Freya walked up to the counter. The plump tavern owner propped up his cheeks and looked her over from head to toe. "This isn't a place for you, little girl."

Freya's face instantly turned red. Only then did she realize Brando had tricked her. She gritted her teeth so hard that her grip on the sword creaked, but she was too embarrassed to lose her temper in front of strangers. Thinking of how she had acted earlier, Freya did not dare lift her head. "Um, I'm here to ask about someone..."

Leto watched as the girl's head nearly drooped onto the bar and could not help finding it amusing. "A tavern sells information, but little girl, we don't provide our services for free!"

"I know. I'll pay. Please, you have to tell me."

"Fine. Who are you looking for?"

"Hood, the textile merchant at Ponoan Market."

"That fellow? Are you one of his country relatives?"

Freya hurriedly shook her head. "No, someone merely asked me to deliver a letter to him."

Leto shook his head, but just then, a group of guards hurried past outside. He keenly sensed the nearly imperceptible tightening of the girl's body before him. He had run this tavern for ten years, and no one in the surrounding area could match his ability to read people. That tiny detail immediately told him something was unusual.

But dramatically enough, after passing by, the guards actually came back. Someone called from outside the door, "Leto, right, have you seen anyone suspicious?"

Leto lowered his head and saw the girl feigning calm before him, though her fingers had gone white from tension. He sighed and asked, "They're looking for you, aren't they?"

Freya jumped and instinctively pressed a hand to her sword hilt.

"Don't be nervous. It's just an occupational habit."

Freya froze. In that instant, her thoughts flashed like lightning, and inspiration struck. "I-I have money. Can you hide me?"

"One hundred Tor, do you have the money?" Leto smiled. His place was frequented by all sorts of people, and hiding a fugitive was commonplace. Besides, he rather liked this little girl.

One hundred Tor was one silver coin. Freya quickly nodded.

By the time several guards entered from outside, Leto had already hidden Freya inside a wooden barrel behind the counter. Not a single person in the tavern saw eye to eye with the military, so naturally no one would step forward to identify her. Besides, every trade had its own rules. A place where people from all walks of life mingled had its own laws as well.

This was what was known as a gray area. The city guards came to taverns for information, and so did illegal merchants and thieves. Both sides knew the other existed, yet they observed the rules and would not openly tear off each other's masks.

That was how the game was played.

But while Leto thought that way, the inexperienced Freya did not. The moment she hid inside the pitch-black barrel, she regretted it. She could not help telling herself, Freya, Freya, did you never consider that he might betray you? You can't do anything right. Are you still the captain of Buchi Militia's Third Squad?

She heard the tavern owner chatting idly with the guards outside, and the tension in her heart was beyond words. She feared that they would suddenly open the lid and drag her out. Though she had claimed it was nothing, she knew what would happen if she were caught.

But after a while, she heard someone knock outside. "They've left. Come out."

Only then did Freya open the barrel a crack and see that there really was no one outside. She could not help sighing in relief, only to find everyone in the tavern looking at her with amused half-smiles. Some even raised their cups to her.

"Well done! A little girl who dares defy those army bastards!"

"Come on, have a drink!"

Freya's face reddened again. She said to the tavern owner, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. That'll be one hundred and ten Tor in total," the plump owner said with a smile. He waved toward the inner room and called out a girl wearing a plain leather skirt, with dark skin and a long braid, then said to Freya, "This is my daughter. She'll take you to Hood's house. Oh, and little girl, a word of advice. Don't wander around alone this late at night. Where are your companions?"

Freya immediately thought of Brando. For a moment, she wanted to be angry, yet could not summon the temper for it. She thought Brando may well have intended for her to come out alone and gain some experience. Thinking of her performance earlier, she felt nothing but overwhelming shame.

She could not help tightening her grip on her sword.

"My name is Su." The girl looked at her and extended a hand. "I occasionally help my father look after this place, but I happen to be free now. Come with me."

"Thank you. My name is Freya."

"Someone is fishing in troubled waters, my lord."

Charles stared at the firelight rising from the tall buildings in the distance as he answered.

Brando frowned. He had not expected a third force to exist in the city, apart from the two sides. The fire at the Noble Council had not helped him at all; instead, it had caused him no small amount of trouble.

Still, their timing had been precise to the very second. After thinking it over, he concluded that the other party had to be involved in the affair—at the very least, they knew that Brando and the others had already escaped from prison.

He recalled the situation at the time. Perhaps it had been one of the nobles from that evening. But who? And what was their purpose? Brando shook his head, casting those jumbled thoughts from his mind. Though being used left him somewhat displeased, as an insignificant nobody, he had no right to be displeased.

"Hopefully it won't bring too much trouble," he said. "But it doesn't have to affect us. Since someone is helping us, so much the better. We only need to take care of our own business."

"But you still haven't answered what we're going to do, my lord," Charles asked from the side.

"Someone borrowed a sword from me. Naturally, I'm going to retrieve it."

The Oberon VII Brando knew was not a magnanimous man. He simply did not know how close that so-called attendant of His Majesty truly was.

"Who?"

"An earl."

Charles snorted. "I've never seen anyone more lawless than you, my lord. Do you really think the gallows are not tough enough for your neck?"

"We escaped from the dungeon only to be hanged anyway. Since that's the case, why would we care whether there is one noose around our necks or two?" Brando could not help laughing. To be honest, he was extremely nervous too, but he had discovered that his retainer was quite a humorous fellow.

"That is true. But what do you intend to do, my lord?"

"Going in from the front, the bigger the commotion, the better."

Xia'er could not help glancing at Brando. Though he spoke with ease, the lack of color in his face and his pale hands still revealed the tension in his heart. Even so, he calmly and steadily laid out his plan.

"What happens if you die?" Brando thought for a moment before asking.

"If a card dies on the battlefield, it naturally goes to the graveyard. Until you, my lord, find a way to pull me back out, I'll remain there," Xia'er replied.

"In that case, I'll have to be more careful."

As he spoke, Brando calculated the time in his head. Once he had roughly worked out how much time he could use, he raised his right hand for the gargoyle in midair to seize—

Xia'er raised his hand as well.

The two looked at each other and nodded. The gargoyle swiftly rose into the air, using the cover of night to fly toward the sky above a small forest on a hill within Ridenburg.

The wind howled around their ears, and Xia'er could not help asking, "My lord, are you sure an earl would be staying temporarily in a forest like this? Rather than in that castle behind you?"

He meant the castle on the small island in the middle of the river, at the confluence of the Yusong River and the Weishi River.

"What did you say? The wind's too loud—I can't hear you."

"I mean, my lord, did you fly in the wrong direction?"

"Me? Of course not. Did I say I was going to trouble that earl right away?"

"Then what are we going to do?"

"Lvup, of course! To do a good job, one must first sharpen one's tools. Understand?"

"Lvup? Is that some kind of Ancient Language?"

"Nonsense! Let me tell you: there are three constants in any game—skill, equipment, and Attributes." Brando shouted into the wind, "When you look across those three, there will always be one that can help you. If one day you grow into a great mage, you'll definitely have to thank me for telling you this secret."

"A game?"

"Life is like a game, and a game is like life. Understand?"

"I suppose I do. My lord, you truly are unfathomably profound—" Xia'er said insincerely. All he could think was that flying through the air at night was unexpectedly freezing; his hands and feet felt as though they were about to stiffen from the cold.

Brando, however, kept his eyes fixed on the forest, thinking that he had at most fifteen minutes left.

Inside Yusong Castle—

The middle-aged man sat on the sofa, examining it carefully for a long while before setting down the Leaf-shaped Sword in his hand. His expression remained unchanged, still as stern as ever before others, but the coldness in his Eyes grew increasingly apparent.

"What do you think?" the figure Behind her asked.

"This should be that sword. I don't know how that young man got his hands on it. But no matter what, he must disappear from this world. The two women at his side, however, are not bad. I rather fancy them."

"A few minor hobbies are harmless, but the key is not to delay the real business."

"If I didn't give them a few hints, how would those short-sighted fools ever think of acting under my name? But they'll be the ones doing the killing. Whether it's currying favor or flattering us, no one will ever suspect us. We only need to make everything appear reasonable. As for one's personal reputation, when have we ever cared about that?"

A cold smile appeared on the middle-aged man's thin Lips. "As you said, a few minor hobbies are harmless."

The other man smiled and turned his gaze back to the sword. "Have you discovered anything?"

The middle-aged man shook his head. "How could it be that easy?"