The Legend of Fatality

Bai En continued to walk around in the tavern, inadvertently glancing at each table. The long and short hall was full of people.

Every table stained with beer was full of people. On one of the tables, an Istanian dancer spins and jumps, and a group of drunken halberds throws out silver coins, encouraging her to take off her remaining clothes. The girls on the street led the shaking soldiers to the dark alcove on the far wall. The commotion in the bar overwhelmed people's wheezing, moans, and the jingle of gold changing hands.

A long table was occupied by a group of Kaslev archers who were guards of some caravans from the north. While binge drinking Heinz ’s homemade potato vodka, they sang loudly drinking songs related to horses and women, sometimes even a combination of the two.

There was something in them that disturbed Bai En. Kaslov is a cultured man. They grew up in the cold sunlight and grew up on barren land. They were born to ride horses and fight wars. When one of them got up from the table to go to the toilet, his swinging arched legs told Bai En that the man who was born here was riding on horseback. The warrior put his hand near his long-blade knife—because there was no time when it was more vulnerable than standing outside in the dim moonlight and letting yourself drink half a pint of potato vodka. Bai En pouted. In Heidelberg, half of the thieves, killers and thugs gathered in this blind pig tavern. They were mixed with new caravan guards and mercenaries. He knew the names of more than half of them; Heinz pointed him out on the first night he came here.

At the corner table sat Murdo-Marc Lagrand, the thief king who claimed to be the exiled prince of Fatalin Island. He wore tartan pants and long beard, almost like a mountain warrior on that remote island. His muscular arms are patterned with forest elves. He sat among a group of women who admired him and told them the story of his beautiful mountain hometown to make them happy. Bane knew that Murdoch ’s real name was Heinrich Schmidt, and he had never left Heidelberg in his life.

Tallick and Hakim, two tall men with hawk-hook noses, came from the magic kingdom of Al-Eba and sat at their permanently scheduled table. The gold rings glowed brilliantly on their fingers. Gold earrings flash occasionally on the earlobe. Their black leather jackets reflected light under the torches. Long scimitars hung on the backs of their chairs. Occasionally, strangers—sometimes homeless, sometimes noble—will come in and sit down. People will start bargaining, money will change hands, and visitors will suddenly get up and leave mysteriously. One day later, someone was found floating face down in the Lake. There are rumors that these two men are the best killers in Heidelberg.

Franz-Beckerhof sat alone at a table by the fireplace. Some people said he was a necromancer, and some people said he was a crook. But no one had the courage to sit next to the expressionless man and ask him, even though he always had an empty seat on the table. He sat there every night with a leather-bound book in front of him and a glass of wine in his hand. Old Heinz never asked him to leave, even if he took up space that other customers who were more willing to spend money might use. Heinz's motto is: Never offend a spellcaster.

On the other side, like the peacocks in the chicken coop, sat a group of well-dressed, untrimmed nobles, their laughter was loud and uneasy. They are easy to recognize because they have beautiful clothes and strong, soft skin; this group of high society fools like to run out and see the dark side of their city. Their bodyguards—usually tall, quiet, vigilant people, equipped with sophisticated weapons—looked at their masters there to ensure that they were not harmed during the night adventure.

As old Heinz often said, there is no need to provoke this group of top people. They can close his tavern, keep his employees in an iron prison, and whisper into his right ear. The best way is to stop them, pay attention to them, and endure their annoying behavior.

Next to the fire, near the place considered a necromancer, sits a decadent Burtanian poet Amman Leide-Le-Feuver, the son of the famous admiral and Le-Fei Heir to the property of the Fell family. He was sitting alone, drinking absinthe, his eyes fixed on somewhere in the distance, drooling at the corner of his mouth. Every night, at midnight, he would stagger up and announce that the end of the world is coming, and then two servants wearing hoods and cloaks will come in and lift him to the waiting car, Go home and compose one of his blasphemous poems. Bai En shivered because there was something in the young man that reminded him of Friedrich von Helder, another sinister playwright that Bai En knew, he would rather forget him. In addition to the exotic and unruly people, there are young people from the Student Association of Heidelberg University. They are usually noisy and noisy. They come to the roughest place in the city to prove themselves to their friends. Masculinity. They are always the worst troublemakers; they are spoiled rich young people, and they must show everyone how strong they are. They hunted in droves, drunken no less fiercely than the most inferior thugs on the dock. Maybe they are worse, because they think they are above the law, and the victims they started are worse than the pests.

From where Bane stood, he could see a group of tired young dudes pulling the clothes of a struggling maid. They asked for a kiss. The girl was a beautiful new girl named Elisa. She had just come from the country and was not used to this kind of behavior, so she was very resistant. Her struggle seemed to encourage those hooligans and fuel the arrogance of these mobsters. Some of them have stood up and started dragging the struggling girl towards the alcove. Someone covered her mouth with her hand so that her screams could not be heard. Another man waved a huge black blood sausage obscenely.

Bai En walked over and stood between the young men and the alcove.

"There is no need to do this," he said quietly.

The older of the two young men smiled fiercely. Before speaking, he took a big bite of black blood sausage and swallowed it. His face was flushed, and sweat was crystallized on his forehead and cheeks. "She is a lively and active girl-maybe she will like the high-quality Heidelberg sausage."

The dudes laughed when they heard the playful words. He was inspired by the speaker, and he waved sausages in the air, like a general gathering his army.

"I don't think so," Bai En said quietly, trying to control his temper. He hated these spoiled young nobles, and they reminded him of being surrounded by such people in the Black Tower.

"Our friend thought he was tough, Dieter," said the younger one of the two. He had a scarred face of a student duel, a man who fought to gain scars to increase his reputation.

Bai En looked around to see if he could find some help. Other pub bodyguards tried to quell the quarrel between Mrs. Casler and the local halberd. Bai En can see that in the chaotic crowd, Guerrerogan's hair crown was raised high. Well, no one can help.

Bai En shrugged. He thought to himself that you can't think of the worst case as good. He looked directly into the eyes of the student duel.

"Just let the girl leave," he said with an exaggerated and gentle tone-and then a devil lurking deep inside him prompted him to add, "I promise not to hurt you."

"Are you guaranteed not to hurt us?" The duel seemed a little confused. Bai En could see that he wanted to find out if this humble pub bodyguard was mocking him. The students' friends began to gather together, eager to provoke some trouble.

"I think we should teach this **** a lesson, Rupert," Dieter said. "I think we should let him know that he is not as powerful as he thought."

Elisa chose this moment to bite Dieter's hand. He screamed in pain and almost hit the girl subconsciously. Elisa fell to the ground as if she had been knocked out. "This **** took a big chunk from my hand!"

Suddenly, Bai En was really fed up. He traveled thousands of miles, fighting beasts, monsters, and people. He has seen monsters, he has also seen humans more evil than monsters, he has seen humans being fed monsters alive, and he has seen dead people crawling out of graves. He has killed enemies, monsters, innocent people, and evil devotees. He killed the local secret police chief in Heidelberg because he colluded with the mean mouse. He doesn't have to put his face up in the face of these spoiled animals, and he certainly doesn't have to watch them beat an innocent girl.

Baine grabbed Rupat's collar and flicked his forehead to the side, hitting the duel's nose. After a disgusting crunch, the big young man fell to the ground, covering his face. Bai En grabbed Dieter's throat and hit his face with his other hand a few times, just to show off, and then dropped Dieter's face on the heavy table. There was another crunch. The beer mug on the table overturned.

The audience pushed the chair back to avoid getting wet. Bian kicked Dieter's leg from under him, and after Dieter fell to the ground, Baien kicked his head a few more times. This matter is neither beautiful nor elegant, but Bai En no longer wants to endure these people. They suddenly made him sick, and he was very happy to have the opportunity to vent his anger.

Dieter's friends swarmed up, and Baien pulled his sword from the scabbard. This sword is not a "spirit", but a weapon that the pub owner temporarily lent to Bai En, but fortunately the blade is sharp enough. Now, the sharp blade reflected light under the torch. The angry students froze as if they heard the hiss of a deadly viper.

Suddenly, there was deathly silence all around. White put the tip of the sword on the side of Dieter's head. "One more step, I take off his ears and let the rest of you eat them."

"He is serious," a student whispered. Suddenly, they didn't look so aggressive anymore, they were just a group of panicked, drunken young idiots, who caused much more trouble than they expected. Bai En twisted the hilt ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ The tip of the sword pierced into Dieter's ear and blood bleed out. The young man groaned and twisted under Bai En's boots.

Rupat whimpered, clutching his nose with a fat hand. A red creek flows through his fingers. "You broke my nose," he said in a pitiful accusation. It sounded like he couldn't believe that someone would do such a cruel thing.

"If you dare to say another word, I'll break your finger too." Bai En said. He hopes no one wants to figure out how he will do this. He himself is not too clear, but he need not worry. Now everyone knows he is serious. "The rest of you go to help your friends and leave here before I really get angry."

He left Dieter's body lying on the ground and placed his sword between himself and the students. They hurried forward, picked up the injured friend, and walked to the door. When they left, several people stared at Bae in horror.

When the group of students left the tavern, he put away his sword and walked to Elisa to help her stand up.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"Good enough. Thank you," she said. She looked up at him gratefully. It is not the first time that Bai En noticed how beautiful she is. She looked up and smiled at him. Her tight black curly hair set off her round face. She pursed her lips. He leaned over and stuffed her dark curly hair behind his ears.

"You'd better go talk to Old Heinz. Tell him what happened."

The girl left in a hurry. "You are studying, human." Guerrerogan's voice came from behind him.

Bai En looked around and was surprised to find that the dwarf was grinning maliciously at him. "I think so," he said, even though he felt a little nervous at this time. It's time to have a drink.