Chapter 7: The Mysterious Visitor

In this world, wherever there are continental highways, one can always find a treehouse bar, even in the frozen lands of the icy world.

The Dragon Tooth Mountain Continental Highway has a fork in the road on the eastern side of the ice and snow forest. The north leads to the capital of the Hamir Kingdom, the east continues to the Northern Hamir Kingdom, and the west crosses the ice and snow forest to connect with the Frozen Fortress and the northern federal city of the Holy See, Vangon City. At the northern side of this fork, there stands a large and dense tree, seemingly a type of silver-leaved pine, about 5 meters in diameter. It would take at least ten people stretching their arms to encircle it completely. At a height of 10 meters above the ground, is the famous treehouse bar.

Below the bar is a square piece of blue stone; guests wishing to enter the bar only need to stand on this stone, which will activate an upward teleportation magic, transporting them directly to the door of the treehouse bar.

The treehouse bar, which serves as the office for the three major guilds—the Magic Guild, the Mercenary Guild, and the Thieves Guild—never lacks patrons. Like all other treehouse bars on the continent, it features several beautiful fairies fluttering their transparent blue wings, serving drinks and food to the guests.

"Guests arriving, guests arriving…" A well-behaved monkey-like beastman exclaimed at the entrance as he jumped high to take the snow-covered hat from the hand of a middle-aged man entering.

At first glance, this man appeared to be a noble. This was evident from his polite greeting to the monkey beastman. Only nobles would maintain decorum at all times, and only true nobles would sincerely thank beings from lower races, such as beastmen.

The noble slightly turned to the side and pulled out a boy about sixteen or seventeen years old from behind him.

As the noble and the boy walked toward the bar, more and more patrons stopped their chatter and turned their gazes toward the boy's back—he was carrying a dual-handed sword nearly as tall as he was. If it were made of iron, the sword's weight would likely be comparable to that of a two-handed axe or a knight's spear, indicating that the youth possessed considerable combat power. What was even more intriguing was that the sword was unsharpened.

The boy himself exuded a charming demeanor, much like the noble, or perhaps more akin to a young scholar. His flaxen hair naturally curled, falling halfway down his shoulders, while his skin was a healthy red-tinted white from years of sun exposure. Beneath his bushy brows were a pair of well-formed eyes, shining with a boyish shyness. A slight smile played at the corners of his mouth, and he was dressed in a pristine snow bear fur coat, skillfully navigating through the tables and chairs.

Most of the regulars in the bar were mercenaries. Perhaps out of curiosity about the oversized dual-handed sword, a hulking mountain barbarian stretched out his leg as the boy passed, trying to trip him.

The timing was impeccable; such tricks are common in bars, and most patrons had already envisioned the boy falling under the weight of the great sword.

However, just as the boy's leg was about to be tripped, he instinctively stepped lightly into the air, skillfully avoiding the trap. The crowd around him, ready to burst into laughter, was momentarily stunned by the boy's agile movements, including the barbarian who had initiated the prank, who froze with his large drinking cup held aloft. The boy himself seemed unaware of the little scheme.

"Hey, handsome! Come sit here," a woman in a bright red open-collared coat called out to Chi Hanfeng with a playful tone.

Noticing that a few seats were indeed vacant in front of her, Chi Hanfeng tugged at Amy and walked over to the woman.

"Hey there, little one. What are you looking at?" The woman proudly pushed her snowy white chest forward, her deep cleavage clearly visible.

Poor little Amy was completely stunned by the sight of so much exposed skin. It was Chi Hanfeng who came to his rescue: "Miss, don't get me wrong; my nephew is only 14. This is his first time out. In our little village, we don't have ladies as naturally beautiful as you, let alone anyone dressed as stylishly as you are. This is probably the first time he's seen such a lovely lady's bosom; I wonder what it feels like?"

"Oh, so it's a rookie!" The woman pinched Amy's cheek lightly. "Though you've grown up, you surely can't be as appealing as this gentleman here. Sir, would you like to have your fortune told? It's quite cheap—only 5 gold coins."

"When did things change? I haven't been out for five years, and suddenly there's inflation? I remember that a standard magical fortune telling was only 2 silver coins," Chi Hanfeng said, plopping down on the table in front of the woman. He made a gesture to the waiter that only someone knowledgeable would recognize while leering at the woman's chest.

"Oh, sir, how could you say that? You see, in this icy weather, it's not easy to earn money. How about I give you a free fortune telling? Hmm, if you don't let me tell your fortune, a calamity will befall you soon," she replied playfully.

"Oh, really? Is your fortune telling that accurate?" Chi Hanfeng asked, raising the drink the waiter had just delivered to his lips, rubbing his nose contemplatively.

"Hey, kid, how dare you flirt with my woman!" The mountain barbarian, who had clearly been in cahoots with the fortune-telling witch, angrily poked Amy's forehead. "You owe me for damages! You've looked at my woman's chest, so that'll be 10 gold coins for each glance. Otherwise, you'll never leave this place today." The bar, which had been bubbling with excitement, suddenly fell silent.

"Trash is just trash," Chi Hanfeng said, glaring at the barbarian. He coolly reached out with his icy hand and fondled the woman's ample bosom. "Not only have I looked a hundred times, but I've also touched. So what? It's quite warm, but a little saggy." It was hard to imagine that someone like Chi Hanfeng, who could get such a bargain, would let it go.

"Amy, in this world, the strong survive. Let's toss them outside; otherwise, we might not have a meal later." The unscrupulous middle-aged man, unfazed by the trouble he was causing, tossed the burden onto Amy and settled into a suitable position, stretching his snow-covered feet onto the table, ready to enjoy the pre-meal entertainment.

The barbarian seemed very satisfied not to have to deal with the middle-aged nobleman. He picked up his signature weapon—a long battle axe—and several accomplices quickly cleared a space behind him.

Amy scratched his head. Uncle Chi usually didn't make such jokes, so it seemed he would have to earn his keep today. He unsheathed the dual-handed sword from his back and took a step back.

The Treehouse Tavern was truly enormous; even with a dueling arena set up, it only took up a tenth of the entire space.

"You little brat, prepare to die!" the Berserker roared. His body swelled, seemingly doubling in size, and he lunged forward with lightning speed. His double-handed battle axe whistled through the air as it swung down from above.

Amy didn't hesitate. He brought up his longsword to meet the blow.

The axe rebounded, but the Berserker didn't pause. He swung again in a short arc toward Amy's shoulder. Amy adjusted his sword and intercepted the blow. The axe slid along the blade and slammed into the ground, then rebounded again, now aiming for Amy's midsection. With his sword unable to retract in time, Amy used the hilt to block the incoming strike.

"Not bad, kid. You can take my triple combo," the Berserker commented, looking surprised at the boy, barely over ten years old. "But now it's time for you to die. Phantom Attack!" he shouted, radiating a menacing aura as he moved swiftly in small steps. With each shift, a translucent shadow of himself lingered in his wake—one, two, three, four shadows...

"Be careful! He's a high-ranking Berserker, and his phantoms can attack!" Seeing this, Chi Hanfeng's stomach turned. Fighting such a rare high-ranking Berserker in a place like this was the last thing he wanted. In open combat, a standard Berserker could take on five longsword warriors at once. A high-ranking one with quad phantoms could handle twenty—an absolute nightmare in small-scale skirmishes. Reluctantly, he shouted a warning to Amy, "Phantoms can be shattered if you hit them!"

Facing a formidable opponent on his first real battle, Amy's mind focused on just two words: "All in." 

Amy swung his longsword in two rapid, airborne slashes, and before him appeared phantom copies of his own sword.

"A Sword Phantom?" The bar, as cold as the night outside, instantly burst into a frenzy. To see both a Berserker with phantom attacks and a Sword Phantom from a longsword warrior—especially a warrior who seemed barely a teenager—was legendary. Such a battle would surely be immortalized in ballads.

With the Berserker still in shock, Amy took a giant step forward, slipping through his own Sword Phantoms, and was instantly in front of the Berserker who had been three meters away. He swung his longsword three times—left, center, right—each time leaving a black phantom blade behind. The Berserker, fully aware of Amy's comparable strength, parried the rapid sword shadows with all his might. All around them, the Berserker's four phantoms closed in, their battle axes slashing from four angles toward Amy.

The crowd's shouts of "Phantom!" drew attention from the three corners of the tavern where the Mage's Guild, Thieves' Guild, and Mercenaries' Guild had their members stationed. More and more people poured out to witness the rare duel.

An elderly mage with a mane of white hair stepped out from the Mage's Guild. His blue robes were tattered, full of holes, but on his chest gleamed a symbol denoting his rank—a Grand Mage with boundless magical power. 

When he saw the combatants, his brows furrowed. He murmured to himself, "Could it be... him?" 

---

"What's the happiest thing in the world?"

"Mom says it's love!"

"No, it's having mountains of pearls, agates, gems, and gold, and sleeping on top of them every day."

"No, no! The happiest thing is eating fresh fish!"

"Get lost!" I belched a long stream of fire, and with a swipe of my tail, I threw the little ones—my grandkids or maybe great-grandkids—out of my cave. Ah, even at over 6,000 years old, I'm still just as hot-tempered. Every time I vent on those little ones, I feel a twinge of guilt afterward as I lie atop my mountain of gold and jewels.

So, what really is the happiest thing in the world?

I grabbed a trout—who knows which little one brought it as tribute—and took a big bite. White juices dripped from my mouth.

What is the happiest thing in the world?

Ah, I remember now: a long, long time ago, when I was just a tiny green dragon. I was so small that I didn't even know I was a dragon. I always thought I was a little dog. Hoho, my bumbling master Da Qing Shan thought so too. Every time he went hunting, he took me along. If he shot an animal that didn't die, he'd expect me to chase it down. I would run and run, but I'd trip and stumble, never able to catch up.

Then, one day, I got frustrated and let out a loud "Hoo-hah!" The poor animals froze solid, transformed into ice sculptures. Haha, I didn't know back then that it was my green dragon family's innate ice breath.

Every night, Da Qing Shan and I would fight over roasted meat. The happiest moments were after dinner, sitting by the warm campfire. I'd rest my head on his full belly and count the stars one by one. At night, we'd squeeze into a single bedroll. He loved wrapping his arms around my neck.

Those were the happiest days, until that wretched mage crossed our path.

I miss my friend so much. Da Qing Shan, do you know I'm thinking of you?

What's this? It feels cold. I heard dragons aren't supposed to cry...

—Excerpt from *The Chronicles of Taemuger, the Sacred Ancient Ice Dragon*