Chapter 14

Fetan Town, located at the intersection of Xabro Province and Lulan Province.

It was noon, and the streets of Fetan were somewhat bustling. Compared to a small town like Gelan, Fetan was undoubtedly much more prosperous. Merchants, travelers, and passersby either paused or lingered.

Old Rad's Restaurant was situated a bit off the main street in Fetan, and it had few customers. At a corner table by the window, Xulan quietly ate a few dishes. After a long journey from Gelan to Fetan, Xulan was tired and his horse was exhausted. He chose this restaurant to rest because it was quiet and clean.

The food on the table was simple: a large bowl of minced meat soup, a stack of white flour pancakes, a large plate of specially seasoned meat, and a few fresh fruits for dessert.

He ate very slowly, carefully chewing each mouthful before swallowing. He didn't like eating too quickly because he couldn't fully appreciate the true flavors of the food, and the process of eating was also a form of rest.

His sword was placed on the table, the hilt facing him. If any unexpected danger occurred, he could quickly draw his sword. This was a habit, a precaution against unexpected events.

Little Rad, the owner of Old Rad's Restaurant, was a bit drowsy, squinting behind the counter. He had inherited the restaurant from his father, who had now passed away, making the restaurant his.

He didn't like running the restaurant because it was too ordinary. He didn't want to dedicate his life to it like his father. He wanted to be a mercenary, feeling that his blood boiled with the thrill of adventure.

No matter how unwilling he was, he still ran the restaurant because his mother was still alive. She didn't allow him to become a mercenary, believing that his duty was to expand his father's restaurant.

He didn't dare to or want to defy his mother, so he decided to sell the restaurant and become a mercenary after her death. He wanted to do what he loved because that was his own life.

The young man eating by the window had been very welcoming when he entered, as Little Rad felt that the man was like his own future: a horse, a sword, and adventure, a free and dashing mercenary.

But the man wasn't a mercenary, and he answered Little Rad's questions with a cold expression.

Little Rad's enthusiasm quickly waned. Since the man wasn't a mercenary, there was no need to be overly friendly. The man's slow eating speed even made him disdainful, thinking that he didn't act like a man. Men should eat and drink with abandon.

For example, the mercenaries who gathered at the tavern in the western part of the city at night, drinking and laughing loudly, cursing, and even fighting, were the image of true men in his mind. He was already thinking about whether any mercenaries would talk about their adventures tonight or which ones would get into fights.

A commotion approached, and Little Rad's drowsiness vanished as he sensed a familiar presence.

A dozen burly figures appeared at Old Rad's Restaurant, breaking the quiet atmosphere. Little Rad was excited because they were real mercenaries. Their rough language and actions even made him feel a sense of familiarity.

This was a mercenary group, not too large, not too small. A dozen people, both men and women, which was normal in the mercenary world where gender didn't matter, only ability did.

They sat in a circle by combining several tables. They were companions, and they liked to be together. Only mercenaries who trusted their companions were considered qualified.

When a group grew larger, it often formed cliques, and there were always some barriers between them. Almost every mercenary group had this issue, and this was when the leader's ability came into play. Whether they had prestige and skills, excellent leaders could use these barriers to firmly control the group. Conversely, mediocre leaders would only cause the group to disintegrate, even putting their own safety at risk.

Being a mercenary was a profession, a dangerous one, with one of the highest mortality rates in Eldran. Yet, many people still chose this profession for the money. Or, like Little Rad, a few people who enjoyed adventure and excitement.

They had no fixed residence, wandering around based on mission commissions. Each lucrative mission represented danger and death. The unity of the mercenaries affected the outcome of their missions, and every year, there were reports of mercenary groups being wiped out due to internal conflicts.

Therefore, mercenary groups chose qualified mercenaries, and mercenaries chose united mercenary groups. They pursued money, but more importantly, they pursued safety.

Money was for the living; only the dead didn't need it.

A tall figure appeared in the restaurant, and the mercenaries fell silent, as if they had returned to a time before their arrival. This was their leader, and they were quiet out of respect.

It was a woman, a beautiful woman.

Her wine-red, tousled hair was tied into a short ponytail, and her dark purple leather armor and skirt hugged her well-proportioned figure. A dagger was strapped to her long, agile thighs. Perhaps due to years of mercenary life, her skin had a healthy tan, neither rough nor delicate.

She exuded a wild, fiery aura, and her seductive smile made her even more womanly, a woman who made men want to dominate her.

Men were often easily captivated by her appearance, and being captivated meant danger, as they would forget her other identity: the leader of a mercenary group, a female leader.

What kind of woman could become a mercenary leader? Men who were captivated by her wouldn't think about it. They would be even more excited by her status, driven by their innate desire to conquer.

Only her team members knew how terrifying she was. They loved it when the leader was teased by ignorant men because they could watch a good show, a show that never got old.

The woman was bold and generous among her team members. She drank large gulps of wine, her smooth, rosy tongue licking the taste of the alcohol from her lips. Her charm was evident, her eyes and lips smiling, but her pride remained unchanged.

A woman's pride.

She casually scanned the restaurant, noticing a man in the corner by the window, a young man, a man who piqued her interest.

She picked up a bowl of wine and stood up, walking towards the man. Her team members were surprised by her actions, their eyes following her target, a man.

They found it interesting because the leader could be teased by men, and she could also tease men, especially young, handsome men.

She sat on the bench opposite him, crossing her long, sexy, and powerful legs. She leaned forward, one hand supporting her chin, the other holding the wine. She smiled at him, her ample chest swaying, making her even more alluring.

"Little brother, would you like a bowl?" she asked, her voice magnetic and seductive.

"No, thank you." Xulan's response was brief and firm.

He had noticed her from the moment she entered because he was a man, a normal man. And she attracted men.

He was also wary of her because of his intuition. He sensed that besides her allure, there was danger beneath it.

"Why not?" the woman's eyes curved into a smile.

"Because I don't want to." Xulan said. He could drink, and he was capable of drinking, but he didn't want to at the moment.

"Why don't you want to?" She put down the wine bowl.

"I don't want to now."

"Am I pretty?" the woman's question was abrupt.

"Pretty." Xulan answered honestly.

"Do I attract men?"

"Attraction."

"Then why isn't the food on the table more attractive to you?" The woman's smile grew wider.

"Because I haven't finished eating."

Xulan hadn't stopped eating since she started talking.

Hearing Xulan's response, the woman didn't speak again, just smiling as she watched him eat, one bite at a time. She was patient, waiting until he finished the remaining food on the table.

"Full?" the woman asked again.

"Full."

"Are you a swordsman? Your sword looks old." The woman's eyes glanced at the old longsword on the table, reaching out to touch it. The sword's bloodstained aura intrigued her.

"Yes." Xulan placed his hand on the sword to prevent her from touching it.

Their hands hovered over the sword, different in color and shape, but both long and strong.

"I'm Nini Luo, the leader of the Purple Thorn Mercenary Group." The woman withdrew her hand and introduced herself. She had already seen his hand.

"Delanck Xulan."

"Do you know what I'm thinking?" Nini Luo's fingers caressed her red lips, her mouth slightly open, full of temptation and challenge.

"Yes." Xulan answered expressionlessly.

"Your choice?"

"No."

"What a pity."

"Not really."

"Can you satisfy me a little?" The woman's words were somewhat confusing, inviting misinterpretation.

Xulan didn't respond, and Nini Luo chuckled softly. Her team members heard the leader's laughter from a distance, knowing what it meant.

The restaurant was quiet. The mercenaries were quiet, waiting for the show. Xulan and Nini Luo were quiet, waiting for each other.

Little Rad was a bit confused about what was happening. The beautiful woman had captivated him the moment she entered because she was so beautiful. He treated her with the best wine and food to show his admiration. What made him angry was why such a beautiful woman would suddenly invite the man he despised to drink, and the man actually refused, refused!

This made Little Rad jealous and angry. He didn't understand why the man could have such an encounter, was it just because of his looks?

The more Little Rad thought about it, the angrier he became. He wiped the wine bottle more and more urgently. This was a good wine his father had stored for many years, and he took it out to give to the woman. But when he returned with the wine, he saw her walking towards the young man, waiting for her to come back.

She didn't come back, and he was about to lose his mind.

Suddenly, his hand slipped, and Little Rad realized something was wrong, but it was too late. The wine bottle slipped from his hand, and the crisp sound of shattering echoed in the quiet restaurant.

The sharp sound of metal scraping followed the shattering of the wine bottle. Little Rad was still in shock from the broken bottle when he saw the shocking scene of the man and woman facing each other with weapons drawn.

"You lose." Xulan's expression was unchanged, his longsword resting on the beautiful woman's neck.

Nini Luo's face was serious, her dagger in her hand, but her posture was strange. Her hand holding the dagger paused in front of her chest, not moving because his sword was at her neck.

"Leader!"

"Boss!"

"Chief!"

Her team members suddenly stood up, ready to rush forward.

"Don't move!"

Nini Luo's body didn't move, but her mouth did. She stopped her team from acting.

Nini Luo stared at the man, the seductive and sexy aura gone. Her face was stern and serious, her eyes cold and sharp, exuding a killing intent.

"I lose."

In the next moment, Nini Luo put away her dagger and smiled at him, still seductive and alluring, as if the cold, dagger-wielding beauty from before never existed.

Xulan sheathed his sword, looking at her without speaking.

This woman was indeed dangerous, and he didn't like dangerous people, especially dangerous women.

He picked up his sword and left, not looking back at the woman. Her team members glared at him as he passed, but they didn't act because their leader told them not to.

He threw a gold coin to the stunned Little Rad, left the restaurant, and led his horse, which was tied to the front. He was well-rested and ready to leave.

"Leader!"

"Boss!"

"Chief!"

Her team members immediately surrounded Nini Luo after he left, looking angry and ready to speak. Nini Luo stopped them.

She pointed to the broken bowls and plates on the table, lightly tapping the table. Instantly, the bowls and plates shattered into countless pieces, the cracks neat, as if cut by something sharp.

"High-ranking swordsman?"

A female team member suddenly exclaimed, her voice loud, drawing the attention of all the team members to the broken bowls and plates. They felt a chill.

"A high-ranking swordsman, so young, tsk tsk, really interesting." Nini Luo looked out the window at the direction the horse had left, the dust still swirling in the sunlight.

She felt they would meet again, a woman's intuition.

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