Chapter 107: Untitled

Thump! A dull sound rang out.

Miss William’s body swayed. She was thrown off balance and staggered to one side. The fine carpet was twisted and torn by her steps, kicking up a large section. Even so, she was forced back thirteen or fourteen steps before she could stop… Constantine’s eyebrow twitched. Given the opponent’s sturdy build, it was not surprising that the mercenary lady was at a disadvantage, but the situation still took him by surprise.

Although she was a woman and not a warrior skilled in close-quarters combat, this lady’s weapon was a great bow with a draw weight exceeding eighty pounds. Anyone capable of using such a weapon naturally possessed considerable strength and excellent balance. However, the man before them had merely shifted his shoulder slightly and bumped into William, relying only on the strength of his shoulder and back. It seemed the difference in raw strength was secondary; the opponent clearly also possessed quite impressive technique.

Constantine did not fully understand the meaning of this change, but the expressions of the Cleric and the thief who had been standing near the shop entrance shifted. The Cleric immediately stepped forward with a natural motion, subtly positioning himself in front of Constantine. The Blood Elf lady who had been standing to the side also shifted her feet slightly, withdrawing her hands into her robes!

Miss William, however, lunged forward with a swift step, throwing a punch aimed at the soft spot on the opponent’s side. Her long, slender hand formed a somewhat delicate-looking fist, but the movement was swift and vicious—as a professional mercenary, this lady clearly had rich combat experience. Even without a weapon in hand, she still had ways to fight.

However, although she had the advantage of striking first, her opponent was clearly stronger. The expressionless servant retreated half a step in that split second, pulling back his chest and stomach. The gust from the punch merely brushed past the edge of his clothes, and the fierce strike only managed to flutter a corner of his garment! But the lady did not let up; she pressed on. Her punches followed no formal pattern, yet every strike targeted the opponent’s throat, chest, and eyes! There were no flashy movements; all attacks stayed within two feet of her body. One fist retracted as the next shot out. This method made both their movements astonishingly fast. For a moment, their arms and legs even left faint afterimages!

“K-k-k-kill him! Kill that guy! Make a hat from his kidney, a real kidney hat! Then pull out his balls! Eating them gives you courage!” The Kobold Job somehow squeezed in through the doorway. The little rascal jumped up and down excitedly, waving his thin arms wildly, shouting as if eager to stir up trouble. However, a slap to the back of his head soon silenced him.

“That guy is strong… Captain William might not win.” After reprimanding the ignorant Kobold, the Cleric whispered a warning. “The opponent… that guy might be a Fist Fighter.”

Constantine furrowed his brow. In truth, he wasn’t overly concerned whether the person before him was a master or a menial. Nobles of the Western Continent, especially the powerful ones, were accustomed to keeping several high-level Household Knights by their side. This not only ensured their safety but also served as a symbol of status and position, much like Walter by the Griffin Duke’s side.

However, Constantine wasn’t entirely clear on the proportion of such masters across the continent… In fact, apart from great families like the Connallyvis Family, few could produce several decent figures. Therefore, the capabilities of a person’s retinue often determined the strength they could muster.

Lady William was inwardly lamenting her predicament.

Although she appeared to have the upper hand, in reality, it was only because her opponent did not have a decisive mind. He simply hoped she would retreat from a tough fight—injuring someone could cause trouble and stiffen the situation.

Of course, this didn’t mean he was vastly superior to William… If William had her longsword or great bow in hand, in a forest, on grasslands, or even in a street, as long as there was a distance of over seventy yards, even if she couldn’t win, she at least wouldn’t lose. However, the Fist Fighter profession was said to have been founded by martial artists from the Eastern Continent, though its teachings weren’t widespread. The most mysterious aspect, the so-called ability to utilize Qi, had been lost, but they still retained extremely strong close-quarters combat techniques and speed… A swordsman standing against one in melee naturally gained little advantage!

But the female mercenary did not want to back down and show weakness. She actually had a small scheme in mind—she now served under Constantine, and the young man had promised them a price far higher than that for ordinary mercenaries. Yet, there were usually few opportunities to prove herself. Now was undoubtedly a chance she couldn’t easily let slip by… Moreover, after witnessing Constantine effortlessly sell that ring for several thousand gold coins, her previous doubts about this employer’s financial strength had completely vanished.

“Please stop! Please stop! For Marquis Riel’s sake…”

The unfortunate shopkeeper’s face had turned a bluish-green. He shrieked like a girl cornered by four burly men in an alley. However, his shrill voice wasn’t very effective. Though several men immediately rushed out from the inner room, upon seeing the young master, their forward charge became somewhat hesitant. Fortunately, the fight between the two was confined to the narrow central area and hadn’t caused any damage to the shop’s displays.

However, the additional people clearly made the servant feel somewhat tense, and his movements suddenly became more forceful!

With just a movement of raising his elbow, he deflected both of the female mercenary’s hands. Constantine’s breath hitched… The opponent’s other hand had already pulled back. If he guessed correctly, in the next instant, that hand would slash past William’s eyes. Then this rather attractive female mercenary would likely become one-eyed… The structure of the eye was fragile, and the effective treatment window for external injuries was short. Once past the optimal time, even Divine Magic could restore it, but eyesight would be greatly affected!

The servant-dressed Fist Fighter remained expressionless, swinging his right hand fiercely… But at that moment, some invisible thing in the air caught his arm! In an instant, a strange numbness spread from the muscles on the outer side of his arm! The force he could no longer restrain was thus dissipated. Then another force surged again. His hand was lifted by that invisible grasp, effortlessly deflected from its target!

“A little sparring between warriors is fine, but getting injured over it would be foolish…” Constantine lowered his hand and suddenly smiled.

“Ha! Thinking of begging for mercy only now…”

“Apologies… sir, it seems our invitation was rather abrupt…”

The young master let out a sharp laugh, but before it even reached its peak, it suddenly stopped—he widened his eyes, staring at the expressionless servant because the latter had suddenly retreated two steps. He bowed in a grave salute, then turned to face his own master and spoke. “Young Master Grant, let us return… Master might return quite early today.”

The servant’s voice was calm and deep, yet carried considerable pressure. Constantine couldn’t see his face, but Young Master Grant’s expression seemed to reveal some information—the young master stared blankly at his subordinate, his face cold as ice. Flushing and pallor alternated on his features. Yet, for some reason, he ultimately did not rebuke this clearly defiant act: “Rob… you… hmm, since it was a misunderstanding, let’s just forget it!” After his expression cycled through several changes, he finally made a downward slashing motion with his hand. He turned and left like the wind. Only in the nearly deafening impact sound of the oak door panel could one easily discern the young master’s dissatisfaction with his subordinate.

“Esteemed guest, you… ah, you’ve landed both my humble shop and yourself in big trouble…” As the impact sound faded away, the Pawnshop owner finally snapped out of his daze. His gaze swept over the people in the shop, finally settling on Constantine with a helpless bitter smile.

In response to this normal reaction, Constantine merely smiled slightly and offered no comment. But at that moment, the thief Jack suddenly spoke: “Captain… that man said earlier he was from the Clover Merchant Guild… Do you think that Clover is… that Clover?”

“The Purple Clover Merchant Guild… if I’m not mistaken, it’s that one…” A pensive expression appeared on the female mercenary’s face. Then she shook her head and leaned close to Constantine’s ear, explaining to the somewhat confused young master.

“The Clover Merchant Guild isn’t Hayton’s largest merchant guild. In fact, in terms of scale, it probably wouldn’t rank among the top ten. But in a sense, its reputation is indeed quite distinguished… It is precisely the merchant guild of Hayton’s Dark King, Prince Stings. Over half of the stolen goods and items of dubious origin in Hayton City are transformed here into ‘clean and dazzling’ ordinary goods. Once that Four-Leaf Clover label is attached… even if everyone knows it might have originally been something drenched in blood, hardly anyone would raise objections.”

“Stings… Prince? A foreigner?” Constantine raised an eyebrow, showing appropriate surprise.

…The reason this name was surprising was because Constantine had never heard of it—the title of Prince was among the most honored in the nobility, representing true royal bloodline status. Even on this plane dotted with large and small nations, there weren’t many. In his previous education, Constantine had already memorized the names, family crests, and other characteristics of such figures—it was a noble’s foundation—but he couldn’t recall this name among them.

“This Prince Stings is not a prince of Phoenix, or any country on the Western Continent—his origins aren’t noble either. This ‘Prince’ is essentially just a nickname, yet this nickname isn’t some casual, joking title…” The mercenary captain sighed softly, giving a reason that puzzled the youth even more.

…

“Rob! Haven’t you always boasted that your fists have no match in all of Hayton? How come you couldn’t even gain the upper hand against a mere Household Knight? And, you actually… you actually!” Several hundred yards away, within an ornately decorated carriage, a certain young master growled in dissatisfaction. His face was flushed, and his hands waved exaggeratedly, as if he wanted to beat the other to vent his anger, yet his hands always stopped a few inches short, waving in the air.

“Master… that warrior isn’t anything extraordinary. Even if a real conflict arose, I have ten layers of confidence I could kill him… It’s just, that young man…” Faced with his master’s thunderous scolding, the servant’s expression still seemed utterly indifferent. Hesitating for a moment, he slowly said, “I’m afraid I may not be his match…”

“Rob… you’re not joking with me, are you? That brat, you say you’re not his match? How old is he? Even if you’re trying to make excuses…” The young master originally wanted to sneer a few words, but then remembered the character of this subordinate given by his father: “You… you’re serious?”

“He didn’t even leave his original spot just now, yet he interfered with my movement… If we fought seriously, I’m afraid he could kill me within a few breaths.” The Fist Fighter responded in a low voice. “He is a Spellcaster, and a highly skilled one at that. I’ve seen people who can cast spells without making a sound, but… his age is far too young.”

“A Spellcaster? You’re not joking? That brat? Couldn’t it be some trick with a scroll or a magic item?” The young master’s voice also held a trace of astonishment. Noble status made ordinary people envious; they wielded great power and influence, the true power holders in their lands. Yet even a Prince or a Grand Duke wouldn’t want to rashly make an enemy of a Mage. Those who commanded strange powers mostly had equally strange tempers; sometimes a single sentence could make someone live in fear for a lifetime.

“And, it seems you didn’t notice the emblem on that person…” The servant added another shocking piece of information… “That was a Griffin… the emblem of the Connallyvis Family. Offending them is basically playing with your own life. Fortunately, it was just a minor clash between subordinates, and the other party showed no intention of pursuing it. Otherwise, even you, young master, wouldn’t be able to escape unscathed…”

“Griffin… Connarivis… Are they that formidable?”

This name clearly took the young man completely by surprise. He kept his mouth agape, silent for a long moment, before uttering a disjointed phrase. “But… but… you’re saying we just let it go?”

“We can only let it go…” The servant’s dull face showed no change, though he sighed inwardly. He understood his young master’s character well. Decades of pampering had already twisted the other’s psyche; his own dissuasion likely wouldn’t have much effect. But, that was his duty: “If we make such an enemy for the family, your position would be in grave danger. Moreover, this time you were the one who provoked first; the other party wasn’t at fault…”

As the saying goes, the world often isn’t what you think.

“It’s alright, Rob, you don’t need to worry… hehehe…” The young lord named Grant stood frozen for a long moment, then suddenly let out a cold laugh… He reached up and pulled out a thin chain from his neck, grasping a blue crystal attached to it.

In that instant, the previously dull crystal emitted a burst of intense Silver Light!

…

“For the sake of safety, it would be best if you left here quickly… Young Master Constantine, we will handle the matter of that ring for you…” Standing at the entrance of this jewelry shop, the three mercenaries spoke in unison, causing Constantine to frown slightly, though inwardly he found it somewhat amusing.

He didn’t quite understand why the three had suddenly become so tense… Were they afraid the other party’s backing was rock-solid and would immediately bring a crowd to pulverize him? At any rate, that seemed like something from a third-rate novel… But the earnest expressions on the three carried a certain pressure, so he could only raise his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright… I’ll go back… But you guys… Huh?”

Perhaps unfortunately, the youth had forgotten that life sometimes was like a third-rate novel. Or perhaps he was less fortunate than a third-rate novel.

His voice cut off for a split second… because his gaze was suddenly caught by something in the distance…

It was a figure enveloped in a white robe. Amid the bustling crowd, it actually wasn’t very conspicuous, yet Constantine’s eyes locked onto it immediately!—It was just a distant face-to-face, without even seeing the other’s eyes, but an unexplainable chill ran through Constantine’s heart, as if standing dozens of feet away wasn’t a Human, but some terrifying magical beast. He had experienced a similar feeling the last time he brushed past this mysterious figure, but now the sensation was unprecedentedly intense!

Then Constantine’s pupils contracted sharply… In the brief moment he was stunned, the figure shrouded in the white robe was already only a few dozen feet away from him! Then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, that distance shrank by another ten feet!

The air in the square seemed to have frozen. Fear like raging tidal waves nailed everyone firmly to the ground. This pressure even completely dispelled any thought of escape from people’s minds. The intense, Soul-deep fear left most minds blank. Both Nobles and Commoners were frozen in that instant; they had completely lost control of their bodies, incapable of any action.

At the center of this pressure, Constantine felt like he was about to faint. His mouth was wide open, but he could barely draw in any air. He felt as if everything inside his body was being crushed and squeezed, like an insignificant ant trying to move a thousand-pound boulder pressing down on it!