Chapter 432 Chapter433-The Tavern
Observing the city guards splitting into three squads heading in different directions, Antalya, considering Sorovo's likely strategy, quickly deduced his intent.
"That's a precautionary measure," Antalya said slowly, "It seems our temporary ally isn't as foolish as Howard described."
"Did I paint him that badly?" Howard seized the opportunity to interject, "You can't just slander people, boss. Am I the type to hold grudges?"
"Right, right, you're just petty," Ali joked, a rarity for her.
"Enough, let's get serious. We're on the battlefield now. Red Eye might have sentinels around; we need to stay alert!"
Antalya interrupted Howard and Ali, "Put on your masks; I don't want the Black Briar family from Breeze City coming to my tavern demanding people!"
As the squad designated for the assault took their positions, the work of dispersing the surrounding civilians began under the organization of the city guard's third squad.
Dispersing civilians was a necessary measure; if civilians were present during a battle, any achievements would be diminished.
Moreover, without civilian interference, it was easier to engage freely in combat, slightly increasing the chances of success.
The city guard's first squad, led by Sorovo himself, formed the innermost layer of the encirclement.
The second and third squads created a looser surrounding ring, with Howard, Ali, and Antalya interspersed among them, ready to act on opportunity.
Under this seemingly calm yet secretly deadly atmosphere, nightfall slowly descended!
...
Lorinda, Oak Street, Blossom Pub.
Blossom Pub isn't the only tavern in Lorinda, nor is it the sole tavern on Oak Street.
The street's name originates from the towering oak tree at its head.
No one knows when the oak started its watch over the area, much like how people are unaware of how Blossom Pub has managed to survive.
Oak Street is one of Lorinda's oldest roads, and Blossom Pub is its most enigmatic tavern.
No matter the comparison, Blossom Pub always seems unremarkable, its clientele not significantly larger or smaller than that of other taverns in Lorinda.
In reality, Blossom Pub isn't mysterious.
The location of a safe house is among the highest secrets of a thieves group, rivaled only by the specifics of Red Eye's whereabouts and personal information.
The construction of each safe house requires a substantial investment of funds, time, and manpower, but once established, they offer a wealth of intelligence and can provide cover for complex operations, making them well worth the expense.
Blossom Pub is one such establishment, operating unassumingly in Lorinda for four years without arousing any suspicion.
The owner is a northerner named Carlotte, a towering figure with shoulders almost twice the width of an average person, and muscles as solid as a calf's.
His height, exceeding two meters, has been the guarantee of Blossom Pub's peaceful operation over the last four years.
Whether dealing with unruly patrons or the local riffraff and bullies, a single glance from Carlotte is enough to instill a sense of unease.
People attribute this to Carlotte's intimidating stature, but that's not the whole truth.
It's the scent of blood that Carlotte carries with him.
Carlotte was once the most fearsome vanguard in the Red Eye Thieves Group, always leading the charge in battle.
Although running a tavern for several years provided a comfortable life far removed from bloodshed, Carlotte found it hard to forget the thrill of cracking skulls with his warhammer.
He was a complete sadist, delighting in killing, which was precisely why he joined the Red Eye Thieves Group.
Only as a bandit could he kill without any scruples!
Ting-a-ling— The half-door of the tavern was pushed open, and a figure entered, bringing with it the cool evening breeze.
Carlotte paused his activity to glance at the newcomer.
It was a middle-aged man he didn't recognize, dressed in decent enough clothes that suggested he was a somewhat prosperous farmer, the kind of clean cloth attire they would wear.
New faces in Blossom Pub weren't unusual; some were members of the thieves group, others came to trade goods, and a few sought trouble or solutions to their problems.
Blossom Pub also served a role akin to a jack-of-all-trades establishment.
The middle-aged man quietly found a seat and ordered a mug of coarse barley beer.
Carlotte gestured to his subordinate to serve the drink, then stood behind the counter, casually wiping a glass.
The tavern seemed quieter than usual today.
It was past dinner time, a period when the tavern's business usually began to pick up, but today, only a few patrons were present.
Had something happened? Carlotte pondered.
He saw the middle-aged man suddenly stand up, fiercely shove a table cluttered with mugs aside, and stagger towards him.
Another drunkard with poor tolerance for alcohol?
Carlotte frowned slightly and shot a look towards the bartender.
This level of disturbance didn't require his intervention; the hired hands below would handle it.
These enforcers were not affiliated with the thieves group and were unaware of the tavern's connection to it.
They were simply hired by Carlotte to maintain order, ensuring the tavern was looked after even in his absence.
Catching Carlotte's signal, the bartender understood immediately.
Setting aside the glass he was polishing, he stepped out from behind the counter.
A call from him had several young men, who had been chatting in a corner, rise halfway and quickly step forward to block the middle-aged man's path.
They didn't lay hands on him, simply stood in his way.
Physical confrontation might bring complications, but this method was trouble-free.
Carlotte wasn't just brawn; if he were, he wouldn't have always been the first to charge into battle and still live to enjoy life as vividly as he did now.
"Move aside!"
The middle-aged man shoved one of the young men, his breath heavy with the stench of alcohol, making the young man's face wrinkle in disgust.
One shouldn't expect too much sophistication from hired muscle.
Such a disrespectful gesture from the middle-aged man was enough to send him into a rage.
If it weren't for the boss's presence, which made him hold back, he might have already started a fight.
"You're drunk!"
The young man grabbed the middle-aged man's shoulders and hooked his foot behind his knee, intending to restrain his movements.
For someone utterly inebriated, such a simple hold was extremely effective, often sufficient to take them down in one move.
That was the young man's plan: to take down the middle-aged man with a single move, then drag him to the courtyard behind the tavern to sober up, releasing him only after settling his tab.
However, this time, the young man's calculations went awry—
his leg, aimed to trip the middle-aged man at the knee, felt as though it had struck stone!
His foot throbbed with pain, yet the middle-aged man seemed unaffected, as if nothing had happened.
He had hit a wall!
This thought flashed through the young man's mind.
Attempting to disengage and create distance, he then saw the middle-aged man's face rapidly enlarging in his field of vision!
With eyes clear and movements agile, the middle-aged man showed no signs of drunkenness.
With no chance to resist, as the young man tried to dodge, the middle-aged man extended his right hand, grasping his face firmly!
Immense strength transmitted from the middle-aged man's fingers, firmly controlling the young man's face.
Flexing his arm, the middle-aged man, standing his ground, pulled the young man back to him, whispering into his ear, "Tell me, where is this place?"
"Blossom! Blossom Pub! I'm just a hired hand, someone else pays me to work, that's all! I never meant to offend you, Magus Sir!"
The young man's muffled voice emerged from beneath the middle-aged man's palm.
The title 'magus' was merely his guess; being handled as easily as if he were a mere chick, such physical strength was not something an ordinary person possessed.
The young man's first thought was of magi, that mysterious group of individuals.
Before you engage, you never truly know what abilities a magus in front of you might possess.
This is a consensus in the New World.
The middle-aged man didn't speak, merely casting a glance at the young man's companions who were petrified by his swift actions.
"Where is this place?" He demanded again.
The seemingly sturdy enforcer number two took a step back, his eyebrows twitching nervously.
"B...Blossom! Blossom Pub!"
Having lifted someone else's enforcer as effortlessly as picking up a chicken, yet still questioning his whereabouts, what was this man's deal?
He saw the middle-aged man nod, then casually toss enforcer number one aside.
In reality, the middle-aged man wasn't much taller than enforcer number one, but with such an effortless grasp and lift, the young man was easily hoisted up.
It was precisely this that underscored the terrifying strength in the middle-aged man's arms.
Aside from those odd hybrids from the Nid race, known for their peculiar abilities, within humanity, such fearsome strength could only belong to the mysterious beings known as magi.
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