Chapter 99

September 6th, the city of Holier.

The bard had been looking rather busy lately.

In the eyes of Hook, the owner of the Pig's Head Tavern, a man who made a living by telling stories was indeed quite hardworking—rising early in the morning, eating a quick breakfast, and leaving, then returning in the evening to tell a few stories in the tavern to earn some copper coins. These past few days, he hadn't even returned to the tavern...

He came and went freely, unrestrained, and sometimes Hook even envied such a carefree life. However, whenever such thoughts arose, he would look down at his bulging belly and realize he no longer had the spirit to wander the world like that.

"Guess I'm getting old..."

Hook muttered a few random thoughts, then looked up at the sky outside, noticing it was already noon. Just as he was thinking about what to cook, he noticed a group of adventurers who had recently moved in upstairs coming down.

Seeing them, Hook remembered the pretty girl in the linen robe—hey... that woman's figure was really hot, and every time he thought about it, he felt a fire in his lower abdomen. But remembering her identity, he quickly suppressed his rising desires.

Two days ago, the beautiful girl named "Akasha" had come to find this group of adventurers, and it seemed she held a high position. When the two groups met, the giant over two meters tall showed a hint of reverence towards her...

Hook had long mastered the skill of "reading people," so he knew he could only fantasize. The few adventurers sat at the wooden table and ordered some food with a stiff accent. The big man sat on the chair as if he were squatting. Hook naturally didn't dare to be negligent, quickly went to the kitchen to prepare the food, and brought them a few mugs of unwatered ale, intending to subtly "show goodwill" and build a relationship with them.

However, he didn't expect to trip over a protruding floorboard, causing the ale to spill from the mug...

The liquid, though not much, splashed onto the front of the bald giant's short tunic.

The atmosphere froze for a moment, and Hook immediately noticed that the few people in front of him were staring at him, as if they were about to pounce and kill him. But after a couple of seconds, they seemed to realize he had no ill intentions, and the tense atmosphere gradually dissipated.

The big man didn't say much, took the mug of ale, smiled, and casually took off his outer robe, indicating that Hook should have a waiter wash it. Then he turned back to chat with his companions.

Hook was drenched in cold sweat from that moment, but having seen all kinds of people over the years, he knew they weren't going to make things difficult for him. He quickly smiled and walked away, inwardly cursing himself for his clumsiness. However, when he bent down to pick up the robe, he noticed a strange tattoo on the big man's chest...

It seemed... to be a viper coiled around a cross.

No one in Holier knew the significance of this symbol, and Hook was no exception. He glanced at it and turned back to the bar, not taking the pattern seriously. When the group of adventurers finished their meal and left the tavern, they even said goodbye to him—probably to show that they hadn't taken the incident to heart.

"Heh, they're pretty reasonable..."

Hook shook his head. After so many years, he knew that adventurers often had peculiar temperaments, and it was common for them to flip tables and start fights over a single word. These guys looked tough, but their personalities were actually quite good, which was somewhat surprising.

But these were just side stories, and they passed. Around afternoon, Rody came back, humming a tune that Hook hadn't heard before. His carefree demeanor made Hook genuinely envious—

"Hey! Rody, where have you been these past few days? You look so relaxed and happy!"

"Here, I bought some paper. I've been thinking of some melodies lately and want to write them down."

Rody's smile was bright as he waved the parchment in his hand. "You guys always say I don't sing, but that's because I used to sing too much and found storytelling more interesting—when I do sing, it has to be something new, or who would come to listen?"

"True, you're full of tricks, a bard like you is already quite something—how did you describe it again?" Hook puckered his lips, trying to mimic the new word Rody had taught him: "Cool... cool boi!"

"It's 'cool,' not 'cool boi.' See, my goal is to be the best bard, the coolest of the cool."

Rody rattled off these words, took a mug of ale from Hook, and gulped it down.

"Whatever, I believe in you!" Hook laughed heartily, thinking that although this kid had no grand ambitions, he could tell stories so well that he wouldn't have to worry about food and clothing in the future. "If you have some spare money, buy some decent clothes, and maybe some noble ladies will want to meet you in secret—when a noble lady pays you to tell her a story, don't forget to give me a cut!"

Rody chuckled, burped, and said shyly, "Just don't let the noble lords find out and cut me down. If someone comes after me, I'll come to you first."

Hook noticed that Rody seemed to be in a particularly good mood today and asked him why. Rody said he had finally found a breakthrough and was preparing to write a "shocking" piece... After a few more jokes, Rody went upstairs happily, and Hook continued to polish his glasses downstairs.

Back in his room, Rody confirmed that nothing had been touched and knew his disguise had fooled everyone. He placed the new stack of parchment on the table and took out the "Soul Extraction Potion" antidote, placing it beside the parchment. His gaze fixed on it, his thoughts raced, and he sat there for a long time.

To put it simply, after coincidentally resolving the "emergency" with Sally, Rody began to smoothly implement his original plan—sneaking into the Duke's mansion and giving Duke Angmar the antidote.

After returning empty-handed from the Moria estate, he had already given the Duke the antidote a second time. According to the method of administration he remembered, as long as he could give the Duke the last bottle today, the old man, who was supposed to die in history, would recover from his near-death state.

Then what?

Rody wasn't saving him to be a good Samaritan. In the player's mindset, the concept of "equivalent exchange" always comes first—I give as much as I get. What Rody wanted was to earn enough from the old Duke.

It might sound like his approach wasn't very "noble," but in the real situation, in this era of constant danger, "nobility" often equates to "naivety."

The orcs had only killed a promising shaman, and those ambitious fellows would eventually target the Kingdom of Caren. The undead weren't any better; Rody knew that although they always had a "noble and aloof" attitude, they were directly responsible for a major disaster that would affect the kingdom in a few years!

With such great enemies still around, he had no time to pretend to be "noble."

However, the current problem was still troubling him—he needed to choose the right way to ask for "compensation."

If Duke Angmar woke up, directly asking for power or money would be the worst approach. He had already gotten a general impression of the old Duke from Hook—summarized in one sentence: the old man was a good person.

He was good to his people, never imposed high taxes, and if neighboring lords caused trouble and bullied his people, he would always lead his knights and troops to fight back. His position was secure because of his strong military power and a loyal group of knights. However, in recent years, due to a change in his personality, those knights had been sent to their fiefs to live off the land, and now only some less capable retainers remained by his side.

"Being straightforward would be difficult..."

Rody sighed, not entirely trusting the information from Hook—he knew that these nobles had different faces in public and private. There were no "good nobles," only "responsible nobles." In the current system, which was essentially a continuous oppression and exploitation of the lower by the upper, even the most benevolent lords were still cruel in Rody's modern eyes.

Pulling out a sheet of parchment, he dipped his quill in ink. Rody had no interest in writing music, but after much contemplation, he began to write the letter he would soon give to the old Duke.

How to position himself in a way that wouldn't make the Duke dislike or distrust him, yet still earn his respect, was indeed a difficult question—

"Finding a patron isn't easy..."

Rody sighed.

******

On the same night of September 6th, at the Duke of Lucifer's mansion.

Alfa, the butler, had been in a bad mood for several days, and the servants dared not speak loudly in his presence. Two days ago, a maid was thrown into the dungeon for not setting the table properly, which terrified the other servants.

Alfa, who had served the Lucifer family for most of his life, had never been so angry before. But with Duke Francis and Miss Sally not at home and the old Duke severely ill, no one dared to criticize him. Fortunately, two days later, the butler released the maid and apologized to her personally. This act somewhat relieved the servants.

However, they could still sense that the butler's mood had not improved over the past few days.

Holding the dinner he had prepared for Duke Angmar, Alfa approached the old Duke's room as usual. His face was calm as he entered, but the moment the door closed, his expression turned grim.

"Why, why, why..."

Muttering to himself, Alfa's steps were agitated, his brows furrowed, and he moved faster than usual. But when he entered the bedroom and saw Duke Angmar sitting motionless by the window, his heart grew even more anxious.

Although to outsiders, Duke Angmar had been in a "vegetative" state for five years, only Alfa had noticed the difference in the past few days—

His "illness" was improving!