They had already drawn their bows; the arrow was on the string.
Retreating now would make them a laughingstock. Naturally, none of the assembled powerhouses wished to leave empty-handed.
Alex Thunderhall took a step forward, cupping his hands respectfully.
"So it turns out to be the Blood Marquis. It is an honor to meet you."
"We have no intention of becoming enemies with the Blood Tavern. However… isn't it inappropriate for Ethan to swallow all the treasures by himself?"
Asher blinked slowly.
"Inappropriate?"
His smile widened.
"What's inappropriate? Treasures belong to the strongest. Whoever grabs them deserves them."
His tone was light, even friendly—but no one dared mistake it for kindness.
Then, Asher turned to Ethan and nodded.
"Boy, I'm sorry for being late. I should've been here earlier, but I ran into a group of troublemakers and fought them for a bit. Wasted some time."
Ethan cupped his hands deeply.
"Senior, you speak too highly of me."
