Chapter 141: 141 Article 140 "The Rough Secret Society"

In the mercenary city of Belle Fain, there is a high-class tavern that is only used by a few well-paid mercenaries. It was a place that was out of reach for the mercenaries who were dying on the battlefield and earning nothing but money to live on.

It was no longer a tavern, but a kind of salon. A salon that one could not enter without not only money, but also dignity and privileges granted by one's lord.

From the entrance, the atmosphere is different from that of an ordinary tavern.

It is not the sticky smell of cheap wine that tickles your nostrils, but the smell of perfume and ornamental flowers placed here and there. It was the smell of flowers that were not meant to be left out in the field, but were made only to be seen by people, by the nobility. I couldn't help but stare at the fact that such a thing was being brought into a tavern, no matter how expensive it was.

After all, for me, a bar is a place where I can force myself to let go of the pain of everyday life by listening to the clamor of ruffians and blurring my mind with cheap alcohol.

When something as elegant as an ornamental flower is brought into such a place, it is clear that this kind of high-class bar is completely different from what I consider a bar.

In such a high-class tavern that I would normally have no connection with, Bruder and I were there.

And across the table from me, I'm facing her. Vestaline the Steel Princess, guardian of Belle Fain. Surrounded by a number of mercenaries, presumably her protégés.

It's a big welcome, too big for me.

It's going to eat up a lot of money, he continued, sinking into a sofa he'd never sat on before. I can't even imagine what kind of material it's made of, it's so soft.

In a battle between two mercenaries, sword to sword, there is always a way to win.

That is, to outnumber the enemy, to gain the advantage of the land, and to prevent the enemy from making preparations. If you have at least these conditions, you can win the war even if you have gathered a lot of mediocre mercenaries. When I was a mercenary, I heard this story as a snack.

Now, all the conditions are in place. It's bad.

Of course, you never know with a hero like Heldt Stanley. I don't think I can come up with any easy way out of this situation, at least not in an ordinary way.

"There's something I need to ask you. Just answer honestly and straightforwardly and you'll be fine.

A slight darkness has formed in the tavern. The light level was adjusted to create an atmosphere that was very lewd. Perhaps this is a place to bring in the opposite s*x.

It was the perfect place for a secret meeting.

Vesterine's lips moved in a series of slight shadows. There was no consideration or reservation for Bruder and me, who had been brought into this place so suddenly. There was no consideration or reservation for Bruder and me, who were suddenly brought into this place.

It depends on what you say. I don't want to be asked about every drink I've ever had or every woman I've ever been with.

He said this to Bruder, who was sitting next to him, as if to restrain him. If you glance at him sideways, you can see that his breath is slightly ragged.

You can't help it, to a certain extent. Even though Bruder is not in perfect physical condition to begin with, this woman is constantly carrying around in her guts a bursting feeling for Vestaline. The expression on her face had a pallid, almost tragic tinge to it. His eyelids vibrated as if in convulsions, and his lips were stained with blood from his canine teeth.

But even so, Bruder held his ground. Look at the situation here, surrounded by so many mercenaries. He understands that he is now at an overwhelming disadvantage. He is using his reason to curb his emotions. But it's a faint and fragile thing that can be released with a single word.

If he gets into trouble here, well, he's not going to get away with it. The mercenaries did not avert their gaze from me and Bruder, but kept their hands on their swords, spears, and other weapons at their waists, as if they were ready for anything to happen at any time. As if in response to my light words, everyone's eyes wavered.

I don't want to know anything about it. Don't waste your time. All I want to know is one thing.

Vestalynne's lips closed for a moment. For a moment, Vestalines lips closed, as if she was afraid of what she was going to say. It was as if she was hesitating, wondering if it was really the right thing to say.

Even so, Vestalines said, trying to choose her words.

"Everything you two know about my father, Mordor-Gorn. Tell them everything you have seen and heard.

It was an order, or so he seemed to say. His piercing eyes wavered, but his expression remained one of stout arrogance.

She puts her finger to her lips and narrows her eyes. I would have liked to have a chewed tobacco at this moment, but I know that if I reach into my pocket at this moment, some kind of weapon will be thrust at my neck next.

Oh, this is so annoying. I never thought the Steel Princess would take such a forceful approach. I'm not sure what to make of this, but I'm sure it's a good idea.

I'm sorry.

--I'm not sure what to say.

I'm not sure what to make of it. I'm not sure what to make of it. I'm not sure what to make of it, but I think it's a good idea.

Whoever the visitor was, I honestly appreciated the fact that he could remove the distorted atmosphere.

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Even if the method is a little rough.

Excuse me.

It was the voice of a man who seemed to be of a certain age. The voice said this without waiting for our response.

--"Do, nn!

What our ears heard after the strangely polite knock was the sound of a door being forcibly breached.

My eyes widened in shock, and I stepped away, forcing Mattia to step back. This was no simple assailant. There is no way that such a person would reveal their presence to us by throwing a knock or a word. In fact, if you take that point alone, it seems to be a sign of respect for us.

Oh no, maybe I should have felt it at that point. There are not many people who would respect someone who sleeps in a cheap inn like this, in a corner of a prostitution district.

As soon as the wooden door was kicked down, several people entered the room as if they were rushing in. They seemed to be at least somewhat disciplined. Even though they are entering a small room, they are moving with great agility. They did not immediately attack us.

But that's not good, that's not good. It was a bad idea to take a step back. If the enemies were so numerous, it would be much better to take a position in front of the door and deal with them individually. In addition, there is only one saint who is not sure if she can help, one injured person, and only me left.

...... What's the matter? I'm not planning to hold a ball. I'm sorry to barge in on you.

I could feel a cold sweat breaking out in my chest. I hold myself in check, desperately trying to keep my teeth from chattering in fright. My breath was about to go wild with tension.

But if I just let the flow of these people take over, it would be the end of everything. I had to get at least one word out of them.

I glanced sideways at the window. This must have been a corner room on the second floor.

"I'm sorry we have to take this rough route. We're here at the behest of someone else to pick up the two of you.

The man who stepped forward and said that was an old man in armor. It was the same voice that had spoken through the door earlier. The tone of his voice was not sophisticated, but it sounded as if he cared about the other person.

I'm flattered by the invitation, but from whom? And there are three of us.

But there was an unmistakable will in his eyes. My throat started to salivate. That will is the determination to achieve your goal, no matter what. I've seen the light in those eyes before. It shines in the eyes of my master.

An old man, his throat rumbling.

"I'm sorry to be so rude. You can call me rude if you like. However, I am under strict orders to bring him to you, and I cannot leave.

The voice was firm, but not so firm that it could be easily jumped off. It's troublesome to exchange words with this kind of person, it's very painful. At the very least, it's not someone you can easily win over when you're at an overwhelming disadvantage.

He continued to speak. I thought I saw his eyes move, wide.

And you're not mistaken - I've been ordered to take you both with me.

His finger pointed at me, and then at Bruder, who was lying on the bed.

So that's it. It's like he's telling us his intentions. Then there's no point in asking him how he found us. After all, Bruder and I are already famous in this city.

As people who defied the Steel Princess, Vestaline.

In my heart, several emotions flutter. In the midst of my calculations, I felt the devil's fingers caressing my brain.

"Fine. Then I'll accept your invitation. But we've got a wounded man. If you're going to take him, call a carriage, will you?

He said lightly, keeping his eyes on Mattia. They didn't say they were taking Mattia. That means they won't take her hostage. I don't know if that's their intention or if they're under orders from their employers.

Mattia's eyelids twisted in disapproval at the words and the look. But then she looked thoughtful for a moment, and then let out a breath and said.

"Yes, it can't be helped. If it's inevitable, I'll accept it. I have my own business to attend to. But, Lugis, may I?

Apparently, he had read my intentions to some extent, judging from his words. That's great, that's great, that's great, that's great, that's great, that's great.

Mattia even smiled in spite of the situation. It was a pale, yet peaceful, smile.

"Don't do anything dangerous. I want you to come back to me. No matter where you are, no matter what, always.

As if to reassure her, Mattia repeated her words.

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