The tarvan fell silent, looks of astonishment flashing in everyone's eyes leading Ron to conclude this was the first time they'd ever heard of the new game.
"I didn't know this before I agreed to play you. If that's the case, I no longer want to…" He was on the edge of forfeiting when he felt someone's hand press down on his shoulders.
His eyes flew upward and he squinted it in astonishment seeing it was Karl.
He'd known Karl for ten years, and in those ten years, he had a feeling this man was hiding something.
He smiled the most when drunk, but was always brooding when sober.
Why it was like that, he didn't know, but recalling Karl was in his right senses at the moment, he waited to hear what the big plan was.
"The game has already started. If you forfeit, the highborns will be entitled to my necklace." The words had barely left Karl's mouth when someone walked by with a mug of ale.
The smell shot straight to his brain and his pupils dilated.
A moment later, his body moved on its own accord with his hands shooting toward the mug before he could stop himself.
Before anyone could register what was going on, he emptied everything into his mouth in a few gulps.
At this, Ron's lit eyes immediately dimmed and he turned back to the men in front of him.
What was he thinking? Karl was a drunkard.
Whatever memory cells he had left were already damaged by the gallons of ale he'd drowned in his life.
While Karl froze after drinking the ale, realizing his body still had the whim of its original owner, Tibion thought he was simply worried about losing his necklace to the highborns and sat up to encourage Ron.
"We've already come this far. If you learned to stand one bone, you can learn to stand three at once."
The highborns smirked, and the younger of them proceeded to pick up the three knuckle bones in front of him.
At this, the dealer raised his head and quickly spoke up again, "Oh, I forgot to mention. You don't necessarily have to stand all three bones at once. At the end of the three rounds, whoever stands more bones will be the winner."
"Do your best, Ron. Karl and I are counting on you!" Tibion cheered on as he bent over beside Ron.
Sucking in a deep breath, Ron released slowly, taking his time to calm his raging nervous.
He repeated this action three times before he nudged his head at the dealer who immediately began the game.
The highborn went first—standing all three bones in the first round.
Seeing this, Ron's eyes trembled and his stable hands grew shaky as he tossed up the bones.
As a result, not one landed upright.
The highborn who wanted the necklace laughed.
"Tell you what. Let's not drag this out. I'll give you three gold coins, one for each of you. And in return, I'll take the necklace."
Ron clenched his jaw and swallowed.
That was a good offer.
But this involved his ego and something his friend held in high esteem. He'd be a fool to sell it out for three gold coins.
So he refused and turned to the dealer.
"Start the second round already."
Surprised, the dealer paused to advise him.
"I don't know what's going on, but that's a very good deal. This highborn could easily purchase something of better quality with one gold coin, but he's willing to give you three. Don't throw such an offer away to save something so worthless as your ego!"
Clenching his jaw, Ron growled through gritted teeth, "Start the second round."
"You foolish boy," the dealer huffed as he did as told and started the second round.
This time, the highborn placed his head on the table before lazily flipping up the bones.
Not surprisingly, two landed upright—leaving him with a gap of five points to Ron's zero.
Upon seeing this, cold sweat broke out on Ron's temple.
He landed two bones upright so casually?
Blinking hard, he looked away and picked up his bones.
No, he could make it.
This highborn wasn't taking him seriously, so even if he flipped this time and got all three bones standing upright, the man wouldn't expect him to get the next one and might throw it carelessly like this second round.
As long as they ended in a score, he could quickly choose another game he was good at.
Swirling the bones in his palm a little, he counted inwardly.
One, two…
Then he moved his hand to toss the bones, every eye in sight following his every movement.
They had just slipped out of his palm when…
"Oh, what is that?" The third highborn, who'd been silent the entire time, suddenly spoke up, looking off in a direction.
Up until now, Ron had been under the watchful eyes of everyone, with insane concentration on tossing the bones.
But with the highborn suddenly pointing something out, everyone's eyes darted toward it, and the sudden withdrawal of attention broke his concentration—leading to a weak toss into the air.
"Ah! One knuckle bone stood!" The highborn he was playing against immediately pointed out as Ron's bones landed, with just one standing.
They hadn't seen anything, so everyone's attention naturally snapped back to Ron hearing him.
Tibion's eyes lit up, his cheeks slowly stretching into a gleeful smile.
However, on the third round, the highborn suddenly paused and sucked in his teeth, tiredly.
"You're going to lose, so I don't see the need to continue this anymore."
The pods were against Ron, so everyone unanimously agreed.
Realizing nothing he'd say would make the highborn reconsider, Tibion gritted his teeth and pointed at the highborn who distracted everyone earlier.
"This is all his fault! If he hadn't spoken just now, Ron wouldn't have lost concentration!"
At this, the dealer shot out of his seat and grabbed him tightly by the collar. "Have you gone mad? Don't pin his incompetence on an innocent man!"
The gamblers began choking in in disdain.
"What a pathetic loser!"
"This master is already being kind letting you walk off with your dignity, how could you be so ungrateful?"
Shoving Tibion back, the dealer picked up the necklace on the table and hissed, "All of this must be to avoid taking responsibility. You lost, so the necklace is this master's. Cry about it in a corner, no one cares! Come back when you're competent enough."
Tibion was about to say something else when Ron stood up, his face dark and ashen.
He was big and strong, so the dealer grew alert thinking he was going to attack the highborns.
However, after a while, he bent all the way to the table, pleading, "Please keep the necklace safe. We'll be back to win it back in a few days."
The dealer was first dumbfounded before he gnashed his teeth and lashed out furiously, "Bastard, are you telling this highborn master what to do? I could have your tongue for such rudeness!"
But to his surprise, the highborn who wanted the necklace chuckled, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.
"Win it back in a few days? No. Why don't you win it back now?"
Ron raised his eyes to look at him, the surprise in them evident as he reminded, "We only have seven iron coins and one silver, they're not even worth one gold."
The highborn exhaled deeply and reached for the necklace, then glanced at them… and at the man who was drowning mug after mug of ale without a care in the world.
His necklace, supposedly of sentimental value, had just been lost to a stranger, yet he simply stood behind them, drinking like this had nothing to do with him.
He'd only asked for the necklace because it looked important.
But what use was having it if the owner reacted so calmly?
Inhaling, he lowered the necklace to the table again and pushed it toward the center.
"I'll let you play me with your necklace and ten gold coins on the line. In return, I want your friend's wrist when you lose."
Tibion and Ron's eyes simultaneously bulged at such a bold wager.
At this moment, Karl Morrows' body staggered to the side drunkenly, his trembling hands still raising the mug to his lips.
After another sip, he was finally sure of his experiment.
Staggering forward, he shoved Ron aside and took his position at the table.
Supporting his head with one arm, he flashed the highborn a wistful smile, "I'll play you."
He didn't know how it was possible, but his body was drunk while his mind was sane.
In that case, he couldn't just sit still and watch this pompous bastards torture Karl Morrows' friends.
Especially not when he spent years entertaining that bastard with a crown on his head.