"Your Majesty!" The voice of Duke Rosse pulled Louis IX back from his contemplation.
"Your Majesty, your care for Princess Furoya is something the Duke of Bavaria knows perfectly well! If it were any other princess, I fear he might become suspicious, doubting Your Majesty's sincerity... This is the first point. Princess Furoya is naturally intelligent and has the Grand Archmage Yarrow as her backer; she should be more than capable of handling the Bavarian father and son with ease. This is the second point. If Heaven favors our dynasty, and the Duke of Bavaria does not rebel, then with Ophirock's character and talent, he would be a perfect match for Princess Furoya. This is the third point. If he ultimately still rebels, should Your Majesty be victorious, you can pardon the Princess. Should you be defeated... defeat... it could still preserve a trace of the Bourbon bloodline, potentially offering a chance for recovery in the future!" Duke Rosse urged forcefully.
Louis IX remained silent for a long time, then finally sighed deeply. "It depends on whether she is willing to agree... Ah, that child Furoya... I am tired today. My lords, you may retire and rest."
In Riel City, Duke Reinhardt of Bavaria and his son Ophirock sat in silence opposite each other throughout the night.
As the sky began to pale, the elder Reinhardt slowly stood up. "Thirty years of loyalty and righteousness cannot be destroyed overnight because of this divine sign. No matter what, even if His Majesty is unkind, I cannot be unjust! The words 'rebellion' shall not be mentioned from now on! I hope His Majesty will remember my lifelong loyalty and not move to harm me."
Ophirock also stood up silently. His once radiant face now appeared quite dim.
Father and son stood side by side before the tall floor-to-ceiling window.
The faint glow of dawn tinged the horizon. The city, which had reveled all night, was now in its deepest slumber, peaceful and serene.
The chill of the early morning was the best companion for sound sleep. For those unable to sleep, watching the frost-covered withered leaves outside being blown by the wind, even without touching that wind, the chill went straight to their hearts.
The dark red sun slowly climbed out from the clouds, pouring its redness gradually, dyeing the clouds in the sky, and also every plant and tree in Riel City. According to Lyon Alliance custom, if the first day of the New Year was clear, it meant the entire year would be one of favorable weather.
But at this moment, from north to south, countless people gazing at the same morning sun all caught a faint scent of blood in the New Year's first rays of sunlight.
Before dawn, Rogue quietly crawled out of the extravagantly opulent large bed at the "Spirits in the Dark Night". As he swiftly dressed, the woman mumbled a few times, turned over, and went back to sleep.
Rogue gently closed the door, loitered outside his brothers' doors for a moment, hearing either thunderous snores or the grinding of teeth and sleep-talking. He gave a wry smile and went out alone.
The fat man muttered a few words, cast a Haste spell on himself, and walked outward with light steps.
A guard was at the entrance, his eyes barely open. Rogue stealthily approached and blew on the back of his neck. The guard immediately turned his head, but found no one there. He grumbled discontentedly, turned up his collar, and resumed his patrol. As for Rogue, he had already passed through the main gate and swaggered off.
Rogue moved through the streets and alleys like a ghost or specter. Scenes rushed towards him like flat scrolls of paintings floating over. As they came close, they instantly passed around behind him, and a new painting drifted forward to meet him. This wasn't the first time Rogue had seen this world composed of planes, but that one time, he had lifted a corner of the curtain and glimpsed the scenery hidden behind all things!
When the curtain was pulled back a corner, Rogue was like a newborn infant; he saw a flower but didn't know it was a flower; he touched water but didn't know it was water. His eyes were dazzled by the bewildering sights, the overwhelming profusion of colors continually dazzling his eyes and his heart.
But once that door had been opened, it could never remain forever tightly shut.
Rogue's mood was neither joyful nor sad. His psychic power fully activated, he searched the surrounding world in waves. It was like the tide receding, revealing the fish, turtles, shrimp, and crabs that usually hid beneath the water.
A few petty thieves were sneaking about, their bodies laden with large and small bundles, undoubtedly proving the old saying that the early bird catches the worm.
Several groups of people were discussing something in secretive, chamber-like places. Rogue had no interest in their content; it was none of his business, so he let it be. Besides, detecting soul energy with psychic power only gave a vague outline of the surrounding environment and objects.
Rogue's plump figure slowly walked along the main street, but as he walked, he disappeared. The next moment, he popped out of nowhere in another place, continuing his leisurely stroll.
Rogue lifted his foot, letting a rapidly charging mouse pass underneath, then brought it down, stepping on a pursuing calico cat. Before the cat could protest, the owner of the foot had already vanished. The poor cat froze for a second before remembering the even more unfortunate mouse and valiantly giving chase again.
In a dark alley, Rogue idly kicked a stone, which hit the wall with a 'smack'. The fat man was quite satisfied with his footwork and left the alley.
That wall suddenly moved slightly. A huge eye opened, staring at Rogue's retreating back, slowly rotating.
As Rogue's figure gradually receded, the eye on the wall, feeling a bit sore from turning, blinked forcefully. The eyeball rotated back, only to be astonished to see the fat man squatting right in front of it, smiling.
The eye abruptly widened, its head-sized eyeball almost falling out of its socket. Then, the eye squeezed shut and quickly vanished from the wall's surface. Rogue muttered something, one hand already probing into the wall. The wall surface rippled, Rogue's hand seeming to dip into a water surface, except this surface was vertical.
Rogue felt around for a moment, then said softly, "Be good, hiding is useless. Haha, caught you, didn't I?" As he spoke, he pulled out a small, strange figure clad in a black robe, about three feet tall, bone-thin with tiny limbs, an unusually large head, and a pair of oversized eyes. The moment the little creature was pulled from the wall, it opened its mouth wide, intending to shout.
Its mouth opened, but no sound came out. The little creature's mouth was already filled with a poor mouse, only its tail sticking out slightly. The mouse was still struggling fiercely. The little creature's face was full of terror, tormented half to death by the mouse, until finally it threw its head back and swallowed the mouse. Just as it opened its mouth to catch its breath, seeing Rogue raise his hand, it吓得immediately closed its mouth.
A calico cat rushed over, circled the two a couple of times, meowed pitifully twice, and walked away dejectedly.
Rogue examined the little creature before him carefully. Sweat dripped in large drops from its face; the sweeter Rogue smiled, the more the little creature broke out in a cold sweat. Rogue caught a flash of purple in the little creature's eyes, smiled even more happily, and said, "What a clever little thing, what are you? Don't tell me you're human!"
Rogue's eyes also lit up, shining silver. That silver seemed like two thin threads, drilling into the little creature's eyes, finally capturing that patch of purple, and then forcibly dragged that patch of purple out.
"Truly unexpected, to actually encounter a demon," Rogue said, carefully examining those large purple eyes, muttering to himself: "Things are getting more and more interesting! Come on, baby, tell me, what have you been watching every day, hiding opposite the Duke's residence?" The little demon creature looked blank.
"Heh heh heh heh," Rogue laughed even more heartily, "Playing dumb too, truly remarkable. But if you're not truly stupid, you should know it's best to tell the truth in front of me. Oh, and don't tell me you don't speak the human language!"
The little demon creature's expression gradually turned resolute. Suddenly, its mouth opened enormously. Another plump mouse stuffed its scream back into its belly, its thin leg being kneaded into a ball in Rogue's hand. Rogue's hand gently touched its other leg. The little thing finally broke down, chattering incredibly fast.
Rogue listened attentively, growing more and more impatient, and finally sighed: "It seems you really are pitiful, knowing only this little bit."
The little demon creature looked terrified and chattered some more. Rogue laughed, "Threatening me now, heh. A Demon General is naturally formidable, no need for you to say? I'm not necessarily an enemy of the demon race! Perhaps the General and I could be friends in the future. But now is not the time to meet; I'm not strong enough yet, so I'd like to drink fine wine for a few more years and embrace a few more beauties. I wonder, what are the beauties of the demon race like?"
The little demon creature chattered desperately.
Rogue grinned, "You'll introduce me to the most beautiful princess of your race? Great! How did you know I like them small? Ah, what's wrong with me today, actually talking this much with you? We really are fated!"
The little demon creature nodded vigorously.
Rogue's smile slowly faded. "Time's getting late. Since we're so fated, I really must find you a good final resting place."
Rogue softly chanted an incantation. A dire wolf was summoned. Before the wolf could grasp the situation, Rogue pried open the giant wolf's mouth, stuffed the little demon creature inside, then kicked the dire wolf back to the Otherworld.
The fat man clapped his hands, looked towards the distant Duke's residence, and said faintly, "Ophirock, you'd better take care of yourself." With that, he left, humming a little tune.
The early bird catches the worm. But the early worm? Naturally, gets eaten by the bird.
Among so many early risers, who is the worm, and who is the bird?
During every New Year's festival, merchants are always the busiest. In this annual golden season, every pedestrian strolling the street is, in the eyes of merchants, a walking pile of gold coins.
The Hammer of the War God naturally wouldn't miss such a good opportunity. On the second day of the New Year, the brand new Hammer of the War God opened on Fifth Avenue. Master Mist Illusion, newly arrived at the Hammer, was extremely dissatisfied with the three-story building, especially its pseudo-classical thick walls, narrow tall windows, and deep brown shutters, which made him fly into a rage. But time didn't permit any changes to the architectural style. Master Mist Illusion had to spend two all-nighters remodeling the third-floor VIP room.
The three floors of the Hammer of the War God were decorated in three completely different styles. The first-floor hall was simply dazzling with splendor! The entire wall facing the main door was adorned with gilded palm leaf patterns. Stunningly gorgeous crystal chandeliers hung straight down from the high ceiling, their magical light illuminating the entire hall. Six or seven pieces of armor and weaponry were scattered around the hall, their own halos also adorning the room like a fairyland. Chairs and small tables were placed around the hall's perimeter. These chairs were square, exceptionally wide, made of mahogany from the southernmost islands, lacquered black, and incredibly heavy to the touch, almost as if made of iron. The seat cushions were pressed with brocade, embroidered with coconut trees – something not found in Riel City with its distinct four seasons. In this hall, every single item was visibly valuable, even the fruits and pastries were exquisitely beautiful.
The second floor was used to receive truly powerful, tasteful great nobles or the immensely wealthy, and was also the place to acquire adventurers' spoils. Apart from the area for purchasing adventurer items, the entire second floor had three rooms, displaying weapons, armor, and various magical accessories respectively, with at most two magical items displayed in each room. Here, they also accepted custom orders, tailoring magical equipment according to the customer's requirements. The style of the second floor was completely different from the first. It pursued true elegance, conforming to the etiquette and aesthetic standards of the highest noble society. Every small ornament here had some years to it and came with a story. The oil paintings on the walls were all originals by masters, interspersed with a couple of modern works by artists known for imitating classical styles. The second floor emphasized history, the precipitate of time. Just as a famous great thinker from a previous dynasty once said, the only flaw of modern art is that it is not yet ancient enough.
As for the third floor, it was for receiving princes, ministers, or renowned figures. Only one small room was open on the third floor, personally arranged by Master Mist Illusion. A small flowing stream circled the room, moistening the exotic flowers and plants on either side. The floor inside was covered with a thick carpet of green grass. A winding crushed gravel path led to the sole small table and a few chairs. These pieces of furniture were all hand-carved by Master Mist Illusion himself, stroke by stroke (or hewn with an axe) from original tree stumps, each one different. The wood used ranged from the most common old elm stumps to the world-rare eaglewood. On the small table sat a tea set, also personally fired by Master Mist Illusion, though done in haste, its quality failed to satisfy even himself. Currently, on the table in this room rested only a single ring.
The ring was formed by three square mithril strands twisting around each other, the angles of the twist seeming utterly natural, making one feel clearer and more refreshed the longer one looked. The six ends of the mithril strands were irregularly yet ingeniously inlaid with a crystal diamond emitting a faint blue light. This blue light would occasionally slip out, darting and winding like lightning among the mithril strands before returning to the crystal diamond. This ring perfectly combined the skills of Fess and Master Mist Illusion. In terms of taste, it was countless times more elegant than the Hammer's previous **extravagantly ornate** works.
This ring contained three not-too-high-level spells sealed within it. The wearer could first, at will, automatically gain the effects of the second-level spell "Ghost Visage," which not only reduced damage but also granted immunity to **low-level spells** like Magic Missile. This prevented mages from being disrupted by the enemy's rapid **low-level magic**. It also contained two fourth-level spells: "Greater Invisibility" and "Lesser Spell Penetration." The former allowed the mage to cast spells while invisible, while the latter allowed the mage to dispel up to three protective spells from an enemy mage. Although this ring didn't seal any high-level spells, it was extremely practical in magical duels. Moreover, sealing three **low-level spells** within the same magical ring required immensely complex alchemical skills. Even Fess had spent countless effort to finally research and succeed.
The new store's opening was naturally filled with joyous atmosphere. Rogue and the other young noble degenerates, dressed smartly, smiled and welcomed the coming and going guests in the main hall. Located in the most bustling district, the opulence of the Hammer's main hall was visible from the entrance from afar. Two smartly dressed middle-aged attendants at the door clearly had years of service in great noble households, their bearing exuding distinction. Several young, beautiful women in simple yet elegant attire guided lavishly dressed guests around the hall. These girls, originally according to Lance's idea, were supposed to wear tops cut low and bottoms cut high, heavily made up, and smiling before speaking. After being severely scolded by Franco, Master Mist Illusion, and all three etiquette masters, Lance had no choice but to indignantly abandon his idea.
A place like the Hammer of the War God was, at a glance, not somewhere ordinary commoners should frequent. Yet for those nobles and wealthy merchants who considered themselves somewhat substantial, the more opulent the place, the more grandly they felt they must enter. Before long, the entrance of the Hammer of the War God was already filled with **opulent** carriages of all sizes.
The customers admiring the items in the hall had varied moods. Many who entered **with great confidence** found **their boldness waning** somewhat diminished after seeing the furnishings. When the equally **luxurious** prices came from the cherry lips of the beauties beside them, their faces turned even paler. Several small magic arrays were arranged in the hall, sending **waves of** warm breezes that **completely dispelled** the cold. The chairs and tables on either side were all fine pieces; the tea and pastries were also delivered from the finest hotels for people to enjoy at will. But in such a **refined and opulent** place, who would have the nerve to just sit there eating and drinking without buying anything, unless they were truly publicly acknowledged as powerful? Wouldn't they become a laughingstock in noble circles afterward? Before long, many minor nobles and moderately wealthy merchants with pale faces had found excuses and hurried away. A few impoverished nobles still trying to tough it out felt utterly mortified under the disapproving and curious gazes of other customers.
One fat and one thin distinguished guest, under the admiring and envious eyes of everyone in the hall, followed by equally snooty attendants, strode proudly up to the second floor. Rogue and the others personally accompanied them upstairs, their metaphorical small knives already sharpened, ready for the slaughter.
The fat and thin VIPs descended the stairs **with unhurried grace**, amidst a flood of flattery from Rogue and his crew.
Behind the fat VIP, four servants carried a large wooden chest. The chest's style was **antiquated and simple**, the bronze fittings on the corners worn to a shine, the red **lacquer peeling and mottled** – it looked very old indeed. If the chest was like this, one could imagine the items inside.
As for the thin VIP, behind him a steward-like figure was struggling to carry a small, flat, long **glazed** box. This box was itself an antique, remarkably without a single crack, **crystalline and smooth as jade**. A circle of faint blue radiance, as if alive, constantly emanated from the box, like a burning pale blue flame.
The fat and thin men seemed acquainted. The fat one was named Stanicchi, large in stature and imposing in presence, one of the top grain merchants in the Duchy. The thin one was Marquis Abiatti, dressed nobly, with an impressive entourage. His family had a long history, astonishing ancestral wealth, with many members holding positions in key departments of the Duchy or the Alliance, wielding considerable influence.
Rogue followed closely behind Stanicchi, speaking in a low voice: "Milord, your bearing is truly extraordinary! Only with your physique and presence would wearing this treasure not seem **commonplace or vulgar**. To be honest, this item has been in our shop for some time. The guests who come either have poor taste and don't appreciate it, or those who understand and appreciate it simply don't have the money. Besides, the Hammer's products have always been reserved for those of truly **esteemed** status and artistic master's demeanor. Those poor scholars might have the eye, but their status falls far short. Considering Milord Stanicchi's status, how could you use the same things as some poor artists!"
Although this flattery was rather blatant, it hit Stanicchi's sweet spot. This big fat man had struggled in his youth, receiving little artistic **cultivation or refinement**. By the time he made his fortune, he was already past forty. Such wealthy merchants most loved to **cultivate an air of refined elegance (or affect cultural sophistication)** and adored status and bloodline. The young fat man, newly prosperous, **understood and played upon** the psychology of such parvenus like a fish in water. Although there were those genuine **philistines** who, after succeeding, remained true to themselves, keeping their rough speech and **true, unrefined nature**, such **unpretentious figures** were, after all, few.
The young fat man leaned in closer and said mysteriously, "Our shop also has a newly researched magic ring. This ring combines the clerical divine spell 'Restoration' with the arcane spell 'Bull's Strength'." The big fat man's interest was piqued. "A ring unifying divine and arcane magic? I've never heard of that. But the spells seem a bit low-level. What's it for?"
The young fat man said with a mysterious expression, "This ring is for conquest, but not of enemies – of women! This Restoration spell can slowly recover one's stamina... this... heh heh, its effect you naturally know. And this 'Bull's Strength'... well, need I say more? Milord is proficient in magic, activating this ring won't be a problem. Then, quietly, without anyone knowing, it won't be long before Milord can surely **make his mark among the ladies (or reign supreme in the realm of romance)**, right?"
The big fat man **caught on immediately**. Hearing this, he was both shocked and delighted, slapped the young fat man hard, nearly knocking him over. "Good! Good! Good! I knew your place had good stuff! Hahaha, excellent! Truly excellent!" These words were extremely loud, causing everyone in the hall to turn and look.
Seeing the situation turn sour, the big fat man thought this treasure must absolutely not be let known, lest someone else snatch it first. He immediately lowered his voice, dropped his airs, and began whispering in the young fat man's ear. The young fat man looked troubled, saying, "This item..." The big fat man immediately covered the young fat man's mouth, **looking around vigilantly**. The people in the first-floor hall appeared normal, **each seemingly engrossed in their own viewing**, but their ears were twitching desperately.
Meanwhile, Franco was accompanying Marquis Abiatti. Franco, with his handsome features and rare black hair flowing over his shoulders, was elegant and poised in his movements. The old and the young discussed true art, commenting on major schools and various masters throughout the ages. Franco had unique insights, delivering his flattery **in a subtle, continuous undercurrent** one after another seamlessly within the conversation. Marquis Abiatti felt **immensely pleased and refreshed**, wishing only that Franco had been born ten years earlier, so he could have had a true confidant sooner.
Seeing the two fat men acting so mysteriously, Marquis Abiatti immediately pulled Franco aside for a **low, confidential discussion**. Franco replied thus and so. The Marquis's expression remained normal, but the corner of his eye twitched a few times. Franco said quietly, "Crafting this ring is extremely difficult. Our shop has only one person who can make it, and it takes a month to produce just one. The materials are also **exceedingly rare and precious**; for some of them, our shop has only a tiny amount, barely enough for one ring, if that..." The Marquis cut him off immediately, "Don't worry about the materials. My family has passed down magical materials for generations; we have quite a few. Whatever you need, just name it. I won't even ask about the price. No matter what, I want that ring in twenty days!" Franco seemed **extremely hard-pressed and reluctant**, only promising to do his best.
Finally managing to see off the fat and thin VIPs, the crowd in the hall immediately surrounded them, pestering Rogue and the others with questions. Earlier, everyone had tried every means to inquire with the maids, but what could those young girls possibly reveal? Franco, unhurried, said slowly, "This item isn't convenient to disclose. Mainly, the materials are hard to come by, and the crafting is extremely difficult. However, if any of you have one tael of adamantine or one top-grade fire diamond, our shop would be willing to take a custom order for you, of course at a separate price." Upon hearing 'one tael of adamantine,' the crowd began **buzzing with discussion**. When they heard 'top-grade fire diamond,' they fell silent, looking at each other. Adamantine, found randomly accompanying various mineral deposits, was extremely scarce. Used in magical materials, its effects surpassed even mithril, making it essential for high-grade magical equipment. Its price was a hundred times its weight in gold. As for top-grade fire diamonds, they referred to brilliant red diamonds rich in fire magic power. Fire diamonds weren't used much in magical equipment, but high-grade fire diamonds, due to their flame-like red color, flickering intensity, and radiant halos at night, were considered **supreme-grade jewels**.
The noble degenerates and **shady merchants** employed all their skills to win over these distinguished guests. That the Hammer's grand opening could achieve such **success** wasn't accidental. Over the past year or so, the various precious materials the degenerates had acquired from adventurers were mostly used up in the displayed magical equipment. Ophirock's one hundred thousand gold coins had also been spent, leaving only a few thousand. With Franco's taste upfront, Master Mist Illusion's later, and piles upon piles of gold coins thrown in, the Hammer of the War God firmly established its status as a top-tier **noble-centric shop** right from the start.
Suddenly, there was a commotion at the entrance. Two attendants, bruised and battered, were thrown into the hall. Everyone in the hall quickly looked towards the door, only to see seven or eight flashily dressed **bruisers** walking in with a **swaggering** air, clearly **hoodlums** and **riff-raff**. These **men** entered, and the leader grinned, saying to the people in the hall, "We're from Boss Flying Dragon. We're here because we can't stand people cheating everyone with fake or shoddy goods. Though lacking in talent, we aim to **deliver heaven's justice**!"
Rogue and the others felt both amused and exasperated, while also feeling **inwardly wary**. These degenerates had faced life and death multiple times; each was now deep in schemes and ruthless. How could they regard these street **ruffians**? But the fact that the Hammer opened on Fifth Avenue meant anyone well-informed should know there was surely a powerful backer behind it. That these **thugs** dared to act so **brazenly** meant they must have some **powerful backing**. They just didn't know who this Boss Flying Dragon was.
Hearing the name 'Boss Flying Dragon,' the crowd in the hall quieted down considerably. However, everyone present had some status and wasn't afraid of getting into trouble, so no one left, instead adopting the posture of **spectators eager for a show**.
Now, some of the **bruisers** drew the displayed swords and waved them around wildly; others sat down and started devouring the pastries; still others began chasing the girls in the hall.
Kite, who had been sitting silently in the corner of the hall, stood up at this point and shouted, "Where did this trash come from, causing trouble here? Haven't your elders taught you any manners?" As he spoke, he stepped forward, reached out and grabbed one of the **bruisers**, and backhanded him with a slap. Battle Aura flashed, and the **man** flew out the door like a kite with its string cut, a few teeth and some **blood** scattering in the air.
The leader of the **bruisers** had some skill, managing to block one move before being slapped flying. Just as he was about to fly out the door, a large hand reached in, effortlessly caught the **man**, and casually set him down on the ground. A hoarse voice rang out: "These kids might lack discipline, but it's hardly necessary for you to trouble yourself to teach them, sir!"
Rogue and the others exchanged glances, left Kite alone to hold the fort in the hall, and went to the back to don their equipment.
Since the currents of the world were already stirring, turbulent and unstable, what was destined to come would come sooner or later. It was just arriving particularly early this year.