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The drunkards were all leering at the stunning girl, practically drooling. One man had already stood up, swaying as he approached with a large tankard: "Hey, gorgeous..."
Smack! Before he could finish, the bull-like warrior had sent him sprawling. Laughter erupted through the tavern.
Duvet's eyes sparkled with interest. Hmm, a close-combat warrior like a bull, a long-range archer... and this girl clearly the leader in the center. Could this be one of those legendary small adventuring parties?
Since learning about this world, Duvet knew it harbored adventuring teams similar to mercenaries. Some were large, numbering in the hundreds, others small with just three or five members. Low-level magical beasts often appeared in the southern forests, attracting many such teams hoping to hunt them for profit. Local governments, short on manpower, also readily hired these teams for tasks like capturing high-value fugitives.
Essentially, the Empire had yet to see a large-scale Mercenary Guild form. This was because Imperial law forbade such large armed alliances, fearing they could threaten the Empire's authority. Duvet thought this was undoubtedly wise; controlling private armed forces was essential for national stability.
But... one of them is a magician? That's truly astonishing! After reading numerous books, Duvet knew magicians were incredibly rare in this world!
Becoming a magician required not only exceptional talent but also decades of dedicated effort! Only the combination of these could produce a magician!
According to Duvet's readings, the entire Empire had only a few hundred magicians. Even powerful nobles struggled to recruit one for their service! This scarcity made magicians extraordinarily valuable. Minor nobility could scarcely afford to support one! Even for royalty or high aristocracy, securing a magician was a point of immense pride!
Finding a magician within what looked like a makeshift adventuring crew like this was undeniably peculiar.
The three men and the woman settled at the most secluded table. The bull-warrior guzzled straight from a huge barrel of ale, the archer meticulously chewed a piece of roast meat, the magician sat with eyes closed, meditating, and the stunning girl looked visibly irritated by the surrounding male gazes.
Fortunately, the group clearly looked formidable, deterring further attempts at flirting or trouble. However, hushed whispers were inevitable.
Especially from Duvet's entourage.
These knights, hailing from a Count's household, held themselves in high esteem and looked down on such a ragtag adventuring crew. Fueled by ale and the bitterness of their exile, they were itching for an outlet.
While others dared not approach the girl's group, these Roland family knights felt no such restraint. Still mindful of their young master's presence, they refrained from direct advances, limiting themselves to loud commentary.
Duvet sipped his ale, listening to his men rave about the girl's legs. It felt oddly familiar, reminiscent of bar-hopping days with friends discussing women. But these guys, emboldened by drink, grew bolder and louder. Moreover... they didn't seem overly respectful towards him, their disgraced young master.
The stunning girl, however, proved to be a fiery pepper. She met each lecherous stare with a fierce glare of her own, though this only seemed to excite the men more.
Finally, a tipsy knight beside Duvet chuckled loudly, "Look at those legs! By the gods, I've never seen such beauties. A spicy chili like that, in the capital's pleasure houses, would cost at least a hundred gold..."
"A hundred? Have you even been to those places? Hah! The girls there start at three hundred gold!" another retorted mockingly.
Watching his disgruntled escort, an idea struck Duvet. He smiled and spoke up, "Is she really that pretty? She looks average to me. But those legs... they certainly have appeal."
"..."
The knights were stunned. This taciturn young master, rumored to be a simpleton, uttering such words? It was precisely because they thought him an oblivious fool that they dared speak so freely.
"What's the matter? Are you men or not?" Duvet laughed. "She's just a girl. You're all skilled knights. If you're so smitten, why just flap your lips here? Tell you what, I'll pay ten gold to whoever dares go chat her up."
The knights finally grinned. Though disgraced and speaking crudely, this young master suddenly seemed much more to their liking. A bold one immediately volunteered, "Young Master, consider that ten gold mine!"
He stood, slammed his tankard on the table, and shouted towards the corner, "Hey! Sweetheart! Fancy a drink?"
The stunning girl shot him a furious glare, starting to rise. Her companion tugged her sleeve, the magician whispering something while pointing at Duvet – likely noting his noble attire and advising caution.
The knight, seeing no response, scratched his head. Before he could speak further, Duvet suddenly stood, whistled sharply towards the corner, and flipped her the bird!
This time, it was his own escort knights who were utterly dumbfounded!
They were disciplined guards from a prestigious family. When had they ever seen a highborn noble make such a vulgar gesture? Especially the eldest son of Count Roland!
While the knights gaped at their young master, the stunning girl reacted swiftly. A large tankard hurtled towards Duvet.
A knight sitting before Duvet reacted fastest, leaping up to block it with his arm. The tankard was deflected, but ale splashed everywhere, soaking even Duvet's sleeve. Enraged, the knights surged forward, drawing swords and shouting, surrounding the corner group. The girl had already drawn her scimitar. After a few shouted insults, chaos erupted.
The tavern descended into pandemonium. The timid fled, while the bold watched from a distance.
The bull-warrior alone held off five or six family knights. Both sides, slightly drunk, initially held back. The adventurers especially seemed cautious; the magician shouted something – likely telling his companions not to kill. But when the bull-warrior, surrounded, took a punch square on the nose, blood gushed, his nose clearly broken. Restraint vanished! He swung his massive shield, smashing a knight who flew back screaming, crashing through the bar counter! However, confined by the small space, multiple knightly swords found their mark, opening several gashes on the warrior.
The archer fared worst. Skilled only at range, his longbow was useless here. Armed with a dagger, he struggled against one knight and was quickly kicked down.
The stunning girl parried a knight's longsword with her scimitar. Though agile, seeing her companions overwhelmed, she spotted Duvet – clearly the leader. An idea formed. She sidestepped a knight, darted forward, and lunged straight for Duvet.
But the family knights hadn't forgotten their duty. As the long-legged girl moved, a knight hurled a table, knocking her off balance. Another knight thrust his sword, piercing her leather armor. Yet, the armor flashed white, deflecting the blade. Unharmed, thanks to its enchantment.
The magician, watching from the rear, saw the girl struck. His face darkened. He stood, raised his hands, traced swift symbols in the air, and chanted a guttural incantation. A faint ring of light pulsed from his fingers.
The Roland knights felt an immense weight settle on them! Their movements slowed drastically, swords suddenly feeling several times heavier! This abrupt change cost them dearly. Slowed and clumsy, several knights were wounded.
Duvet, watching from afar, brightened. A Slow Spell! Real magic!
As the magician backed away, fingers darting, Duvet saw a fireball coalesce at his fingertips, shooting towards the knights! One knight, skilled, managed to slash it apart, but sparks flew everywhere. Other knights yelped as embers singed them, thrown into greater disarray.
The room was now ablaze with scattered flames. The magician seemed a human flamethrower. The Roland knights, once dominant, lost their edge. Twenty men struggled against just a few opponents.
Duvet sensed something wrong. Seven or eight Fireball Spells already! How powerful is a first-rank magician? This one fired them off rapidly, barely chanting! A mere hand flick summoned a fireball. Far beyond what a first-rank magician should be capable of.
Remembering his books – magicians excelled at range but were vulnerable up close – Duvet saw the magician unguarded. He grabbed a bottle and hurled it.
Magicians were weak in melee. The bottle forced the magician into a clumsy dodge. Smash! It shattered against the wall, shards cutting his face! Clutching his bleeding cheek, the magician yelped. Duvet was already on him, tackling him to the floor, hands gripping his throat!
Duvet's strategy was sound, but he forgot his own limitations. A thirteen-year-old boy simply lacked the strength. While magicians were weak in close combat, an adult could overpower a child. After a brief struggle, Duvet found himself pinned, arms twisted helplessly. He was about to yell when... Thud! The magician's eyes rolled back. He collapsed onto Duvet. Shoving the limp form aside, Duvet saw his faithful servant, Madde, standing there, pale-faced, clutching a broken table leg.
With the magician down, the Slow Spell gone, and the fireballs ceased, the Roland knights rallied. Charging back in, swords clanging and banging, they quickly regained dominance.
The bull-warrior, despite his strength, couldn't withstand the numbers. Soon, wounded in the leg by two swords, he fell. The archer was already unconscious. The stunning girl proved trickiest. Her skill was mediocre, but her magically enchanted leather armor granted unnatural agility. Her scimitar, clearly also enchanted, shattered two knightly longswords! Only when several knights finally focused on her did they manage to overpower her, pinning her roughly to the floor.
Duvet caught his breath. Apologetic knights helped him up and found him an undamaged chair. They felt ashamed; their young master had faced danger.
Duvet, however, was unconcerned. He understood the situation clearly: These adventurers are ordinary. Their martial skills are basic. The bull-warrior's only real strength is raw power. Crucially... none of them can even use basic combat aura! Utterly third-rate fighters.
This also starkly revealed how little favor Duvet held. The twenty knights assigned to him must be the Roland family's absolute dregs. Twenty against four, and it took this long?
Seems that father truly has given up on me, sending only these rejects as my escort, Duvet thought bitterly. Otherwise... hmph, would the Roland family, second only in the Imperial Military Command, lack true masters?
It made sense. Which skilled knight would willingly accompany this "waste" into exile? Only the untalented would be stuck with this assignment.
His knights stammered apologies. Duvet waved them off, instead examining the captured weapons. He glanced dismissively at the bull-warrior's shield before heading to the pinned fiery girl, intently studying her leather armor. After a long look, he exclaimed, "Just as I thought!"
After deep study of magical lore, Duvet's fascination with magic had grown. He recognized at least two enchantments on the armor: Agility Enhancement and Strength Enhancement! Dual enchantments made this armor incredibly valuable. It could fetch a high price even in the capital's finest weapon shops! Many skilled warriors would pay dearly for it. How did this girl, whose martial skill was almost "inferior," possess such a treasure?
He then picked up her scimitar. Studying the hilt, he noticed a gem that seemed like a mana-storage tool described in his books. "Hah, another magically enhanced weapon."
Even more valuable was the girl's silver bow! Silver, relatively soft, was poor for conventional weapons but was known as the best metal against magicians! Common knowledge held that metal inherently resisted many spells. High-level magicians often cast protective shields to compensate for their melee weakness.
This silver bow was clearly a rare "magic-piercing" weapon! Useless against ordinary foes, it was a potent tool for ambushing magicians.
Duvet couldn't help but scrutinize the long-legged girl again. Such a low-level fighter, yet carrying such high-grade magical weapons, including an extremely rare anti-magic bow!
Duvet's prolonged gaze lingered on the girl's figure, particularly her chest. This naturally caused misunderstandings – both for the captive girl and his own knights. After all, a teenage boy staring fixedly at a girl's cleavage invited certain assumptions.
"Take that girl's leather armor off," Duvet ordered casually, driven purely by academic interest in the magical items. He yearned for a quiet room to study them, cross-referencing his book knowledge to answer his many questions.
The knight tasked with the order hesitated, "This... Respected Young Master... you truly wish us to strip her... here?"
His words were evasive, his expression awkward. It was obvious from the girl's pronounced curves and the deep cleavage exposed by her armor that she wore little beneath it – likely just a thin undergarment.