Bai En walked out of the street and into the golden rose. He stepped into the dream from reality. The janitor supported the big oak door for him. The kneeling waiter led him from the dirty street to a spacious restaurant.

The well-dressed people sit at a table filled with banquets and dine and talk under the light from the huge crystal chandelier. The great Marnus heroes watched the diners intently in the restaurant. Bane recognized Magnus, Hindenberg and the bold Wallenstein. The painting style is Vespasianus, he is the most famous painter in Heidelberg. On the far wall was a portrait of the Countess Emmanuel Emmanuel, a charming dark-haired beauty, wearing a not-so-decent ball dress.

Bai En hopes that the borrowed clothes will fit better. He was wearing the clothes that Falheim prepared for him. But during his wandering time, Bai En became thinner. The linen shirt felt loose and loose, and the velvet vest felt very loose. This pair of pants has been fastened to the last button with a belt.

But the boots are very comfortable, as are the hats. He tilted his hat to a casual angle to show off the peacock feathers on the belt. There is no doubt that this hat must be Falheim's own. His hand carelessly fiddled with the golden pendant hanging on a chain around his neck. The fragrance of Burtania smelt from inside. In addition to the smell of the sewer, it is also good to smell something else. The servant led him to a cubicle in the corner, and Falheim sat there. There was a leather book in front of him, and he was using a feather pen to check the entries in the book. When Bai En approached, he looked up and smiled. "Welcome to you, my brother. Take a bath and change clothes, you look much better."

Earlier, Bane examined himself in a huge silver mirror in Falheim's townhouse, and he was forced to agree. After taking a hot bath, applying sesame oil, and changing his clothes, he felt completely new. From the mirror, he saw the fashionable young man who used to be, although he had more wrinkles around his eyes and his mouth was tighter and narrower.

"This is a very charming place," he said. "If you want, you can eat here every night."

"What do you mean, Falheim?"

"Simply put, your position in the association gives you more choices." Falheim said lightly. "If you don't like going back to Fatalin Island, you can stay here and take care of things here."

Bai En looked around to see if anyone had overheard their conversation. "You know that I am still a wanted criminal in the Marnus Empire, because of some unlucky nobles along the way."

"You exaggerated your notoriety, brother. Well, at least the notoriety here. No one knows who you are. Heidelberg is not Bill Barry, you know." "You said it yourself, Grerogan is an easy one Identified characters. "

"We will not hire that dwarf. But we will give you your rights." Falheim said lightly. "As for whether you will hire the dwarf, no one in the association cares, as long as you don't make trouble."

It was there; Bai En's feeling was half hope and half fear. His companion can take him back. He can give up the restless life of this adventurer and go back to Fatalin Island and his tower. This means a life bound by books and associations, but it is safe. One day he will become strong and rich.

This is an attractive prospect. No more crawling around in the sewer. There are no more beatings by thugs. Never get sick again in remote and terrible places. There is no longer a muscle-burning long journey through the wild land. No longer fall into darkness. No longer fight against chaotic unknown pawns. No more adventures.

He no longer had to endure the gloom and whimsy of Guerrogan. He can forget his oath, follow the dwarf, and record his fate in the epic. The promise was made when he was drunk; certainly not count? He will be the master of his own destiny. However, something brought him back.

"I have to think about it," he said.

"Is there anything you can think of, man? You wouldn't really tell me that you prefer to be a scavenger rather than a mage, do you? Most people will kill for this opportunity."

"I said, I will consider it." Bai En added, "Also, I need money now."

"Is it still necessary?" Falheim asked.

"What's the difference?" Bai En didn't understand the relationship between borrowing and borrowing by virtue of their relationship.

"It has something to do with your despair." Falheim said lightly.

"Borrow, my apprentice Morris is back. You can let him return you when you return to Fatalin." Bai En said helplessly.

"Yes, how much?"

"Five hundred, no, one thousand gold coins." Bai En hesitated. He wasn't sure how much to pay the craftsman, but one thousand gold coins should be enough.

"So much?" Falheim hesitated. "I must know what you intend to use for this money."

"Repair my sacrificial knife," Bai En took out the residual handle of the sacrificial knife and pieces of cloth wrapped in a cloth from his arms and placed it on the table.

"Damn," Falheim's expression was no longer calm, "What would you do to make the sacrificial knife like this?"

"Many, many things." Bai En said with a sigh.

"I will give you 1,500 gold coins," Falheim said, frowning for a moment. "Are you sure there are craftsmen who can repair your sacrificial knife?"

Bai En nodded.

"Tell me what you have encountered," Falheim added.

"In fact, there are indeed many, and there are some things about evil gods and cults." Bai En looked around and confirmed that no one was nearby. "I met Albert Kruger."

"Who?"

"A student of the Spellcaster Academy, who is reticent and likes to stay in the library, has no talent for mages."

"Most of the caster academies are such people." Falheim said angrily.

"But he became a wizard and he ..." Pain paused, trying not to think about it carefully. "He turned the villager's child into a distortion."

"Through the magic stone?"

"Yes, there is some kind of spell." Bai En once again took out a few pieces of paper from his arms and handed them to Falheim. "This was obtained from another place. They mentioned a word," patriarch "."

"Damn, is this a metamorphosis?" Falheim quickly scanned the text on the paper. "And it was written in classical language, it seems that they improved the effect of this spell."

"I don't know, maybe. But it did make a mage and a werewolf swap bodies. I suggest you take it back to study."

"Spell succeeded?" Falheim exclaimed. "It's unimaginable."

"Yes, but I saw it with my own eyes." Bai En then took out a small book, which was densely recorded with text. "And this, the spells, formulas, and some theories I copied from several casters I encountered on the road. Oh, and some of my knowledge, mainly about several cults."

Falheim also quickly glanced through it, and then put the previous paper and small books in his bag.

"Damn, you found more during this time than the Fatalin Institute," Falheim shook his head. "To be honest, it may be more important."

"It's also much more dangerous. I can't remember how many times I almost died."

Falheim wanted to say something, but he still didn't say it, and then they continued to eat in disturbing silence. A few minutes later, the door of the large room opened, and a tall man was brought in by the servant. He was dressed in black and his monastic robe made him look disproportionate in this magnificent place. His face was thin, like an ascetic, and his black hair hung down on his forehead, forming a hair tip.

As he walked through the room, there was silence behind him. Bai En saw those rich eaters afraid of him. When he approached the table, Bai En recognized him in astonishment: this is undoubtedly the man he saw with the sinister mouse in the sewer. He felt dizzy. He thought the man was an evil wizard or cultist. He imagined that it was a cultist or a doom. He did not expect to see him in the places frequented by the richest and most respected citizens of Heidelberg.

"What's wrong, brother? You seem to have seen a ghost."

"That person-who is that person?"

Falheim sighed. "You won't want to know. He is not the kind of person you will ask him questions. It is the person he will ask you."

"Who is he, Falheim? Do I have to ask him in the past?" Bane saw Falheim's expression of worry and admiration on his face.

"I believe you will too, Brian." Falheim whispered. "Okay. That was the governor of Fritz von Hallstatt, the Countess Emmanuelle's secret police. It was the one who made me get nothing here during this time."

"Tell me about him."

"Some people think he is an enemy of corruption and depravity. He works hard, and no one doubts his sincerity. He sincerely hates distortions, so he has the support of the Temple of Ulrich. His home is guarded by their Templar Written. "

"I thought the Temple of Ulrich had little influence here, and the countess didn't like it."

"That was before von Hallstatt came to power ~ lightnovelpub.net ~ He soon changed from a trivial court official to the most powerful person in the city. Some people said he was through blackmail and extortion; some people It is said that his enemies have a habit of always dying under mysterious circumstances. His father is a little noble in a remote province, and his current status is high. Everyone says he is a cold and cunning old pig. "

"Isn't anyone going to deal with him?" Bai En wondered how such a person could face the threat of his enemies.

"Von Hallstatt is cruel, cruel, and dangerous, not just because of his influence. He has a deadly sword. He killed several people because they insulted the Countess's reputation."

"I thought her brother Leones had done enough without him." Bai En involuntarily sarcastically rumored that his brother had killed hundreds of people in order to protect the countess's reputation.

"Lyons is not always nearby, and there are rumors that the chief judge of this place is going to fight the countess for him. Obviously, he is very loyal to her."

"Maybe he is crazy. I heard that Lyons is the deadliest blade in the Marnus Empire, and Emmanuel is not worth the duel."

Falheim shrugged.

"I met him underground, and I was dealing with a ... Ratman." Brian said to Falheim. "Ratman?" Falheim thought for a while and continued. "Perhaps this is his source of intelligence." Falheim added, turning his gaze to the chief judge. "But for intelligence and such aberrant transactions, maybe he is really crazy."

"Maybe." Brian stared at von Hallstatt, not knowing the connection between the mouse and the head of the countess' secret police. With a glimmer of hope, I hope the man didn't recognize him.