Chapter Eight: Rose Lounge (1)

Since his three years of wandering abroad, the things he had seen and heard had greatly transformed his thinking. His past actions in Cyprus City now seemed so naive and absurd to his current self, especially as of late, when Komer found his mind frequently overwhelmed by a multitude of strange fantasies that he couldn't comprehend.

Many things he had never thought of before, many things he had never considered, all emerged unbidden in his mind. It was as if the memories and thoughts of another person had suddenly merged with his own, forming another being within him. Yet Komer felt it wasn't quite right; at least his thoughts were still his, proceeding according to his original patterns.

Perhaps everything was changing, including his thoughts. Such is life, they say; it is through countless small changes that larger ones eventually take shape. Quantitative changes lead to qualitative ones. Society progresses in this way. Suddenly, this adage sprang unbidden into Komer's mind.

When Komer, dragging two good-for-nothing brothers with him, ascended to the renowned Rose Forest Bar in Cyprus City and drank to excess without pause, news that the once-dreaded Three Wolves of Cyprus had returned spread like wildfire throughout the city.

At the same time, several sturdy knights rode their horses past the grand entrance of the Rose Forest Bar. The middle-aged knight, looking exhausted and haggard, was extremely tired. The continuous search had left the brothers utterly drained. The damned fellow they were after had seemingly sprouted wings and vanished within the city of Cyprus.

According to the ship's master, the fellow should have disembarked in Cyprus, but with the city being so vast and his own arrival two days late, how was he to find this stranger he had never met?

The target possessed a necromantic aura, but one had to be quite close to sense it. Furthermore, it was unknown if the individual would always carry objects imbued with that aura. Thus, searching aimlessly was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Nevertheless, the Archbishop had repeatedly stressed the utmost importance of finding that person's possession, without elaborating on what it was. This thought only added to the middle-aged knight's frustration.

"Sir, shall we rest upstairs for a bit?" asked the middle-aged knight following closely behind, his face covered with the dust of the road. His gaze swept over the giant signboard of the bar before he made his suggestion: "The brothers are very tired; let them relax a bit. After all, this matter won't be resolved in a day or two."

After a moment of contemplation and seeing the hopeful expressions on his brothers' faces, the middle-aged knight replied somberly, "Fine, let's all go in for a drink. But we can't delay for too long."

Nonchalantly lifting the skirt of a passing barmaid's ample behind and firmly pinching it, amidst her coquettishly annoyed expression, Komer tilted his head back and poured a glass of Martini Iced Wine into his mouth. The rich and fragrant liquor swirled down his throat and into his belly, the sensation of warmth slowly spreading outward from within, imbuing Komer with an immense sense of comfort and exhilaration.

It had been quite some time since he had been this relaxed and uninhibited. The feeling of reckless abandon was delightful, particularly in this half-drunk state, where everything seemed both far away and near at hand. It felt as though he could grasp it with a gesture, yet what he grasped might just be an illusion—worth savoring indeed.

Puber's face, usually pale, was now flushed with redness. A few beers had turned him into such a state; he was truly beyond saving. The accursed Ilot was still selecting the most expensive Royal Salute Whiskey and drinking to his heart's content. Did he really intend to drink the bar dry?

As his gaze casually swept over several guests passing by the entrance, illuminated by the alternating brightness of the night pearls in the bar, Komer sensed a familiar scent. Slightly puzzled, he sniffed again; these men looked like they were from out of town, with sturdy figures, yet he was sure he hadn't seen them before. Why then did they evoke a familiar feeling?

"Sir, let's go sit over there; it's quieter."

"Hm."

Though it was only a single syllable, it suddenly turned all of Komer's warmth into cold sweat. Puber, surprised, followed his boss's gaze to the back. He didn't comprehend why his usually unrestrained boss had suddenly become like this, shrinking substantially as if struck by some great fear, almost pulling back into the shadows next to the bar. Yet, his faint gaze remained fixed on a remote corner.

Over there, a few individuals had just taken their seats; their features unclear, but they did not seem like the local elite of Cyprus's upper echelon. What could possibly provoke such an intense reaction from the boss?

Coarse and uncouth, Ilot didn't notice anything amiss and continued to guzzle his drinks, one after the other, making crude and vulgar jokes with the barmaids. There was not a trace of nobility about him.

"Boss, what's wrong?" Puber picked up his glass and, using it to cover his mouth, whispered.

Drawing in a deep breath, Komer struggled to stabilize his emotions. He hadn't expected these guys to actually come to Cyprus City. Was it a coincidence, or did they come here on purpose? Could it be related to his actions that day?

After regaining a bit of composure, his heart couldn't help but start pounding furiously again. At this moment, he absolutely couldn't lose his cool. If the other party were to spot any flaws, he feared that he and his two companions might not be able to leave.

Fortunately, the other party hadn't seen his face or heard his voice before. As long as he kept his composure, he should be able to slip away. The other party's spiritual sense was too keen; he didn't dare stay any longer, it was too risky. But leaving right away could arouse suspicion. Without time to think further, he downed the rest of his drink and then casually tipped the bottle onto himself. Tilting his head, he gave Puber a look and staggered to his feet.

Puber, having received Komer's signal, might not have known what was happening, but he knew his boss was always alert and astute; his actions must have a purpose. He slapped Ilot, who was still engrossed in his drink, "Let's go, the boss is drunk."

At the same time, with a sly wink, Ilot, though startled and about to speak, swallowed his words when he caught Puber's meaningful glance. He casually threw a Gold Shield onto the bar, feigned a drunkard's cheer, and steadied the slumped Komer, staggering toward the door.

As the gaze of the three men across landed on them, the middle-aged knight's unusually keen spiritual sense immediately felt something was amiss. Though the trio bore no scent of the Necromantic Aura, something in his intuition was off. Rising slowly, he was about to walk towards the door,

"Sir, what is it?" Seeing the middle-aged knight get up, the other attendants were taken aback.

"It's nothing, perhaps just my imagination," he said. "I just have this feeling that those three guys up ahead seem suspicious, as if they're related to our target."

The middle-aged knight himself thought his suspicion was a bit far-fetched. Those guys were clearly the dissolute sons of nobles from within Cyprus City; how could they be related to the target of his pursuit? But this wasn't reason enough to stop observing them. He wasn't the type to easily give up.

"Sir, let me check," said the robust knight as he moved swiftly in front of the middle-aged knight and headed towards the door with firm steps.

The instant the middle-aged knight stood up, Komer knew that tonight's incident wouldn't end well. The opposing spiritual sense was so sensitive that, despite his disguise and concealment, he hadn't entirely escaped their perception.

However, seeing that it was the robust knight walking towards him, Komer's heart eased slightly. It seemed the other party hadn't yet accurately pinpointed the issue with him; otherwise, they would have swarmed him and taken him into custody. This was his only chance.

Taking a covert deep breath, his expression unchanged and still looking thoroughly inebriated, he leaned heavily on Puber's slender body, causing them both to sway.

He dared not reveal his true strength just yet, but was worried that the other party might already be suspicious. Without some precaution, if they were to attack, he feared he might not have a chance to fight back. This truly was a difficult decision.

However, Komer abandoned the idea of preparing for confrontation in the blink of an eye. The impressive strength of the opposition meant that no matter how much he prepared, they might still leave him lying dead in the street. He might as well relax and take a gamble.

With a subtle hand gesture with his left hand, he signaled the still oblivious horse-faced youth to be ready. Upon seeing his boss's covert signal, the horse-faced youth immediately became alert. This was a unique sign among the three close friends, to be used when facing danger. The horse-faced youth's vigilant eyes quickly fell on a figure who was following them from behind.