Sandro pushed the woman's body away from him, pulled a large cloth from underneath that had been used to pad the body, shook the dust off of it a few times and tossed it to Asa, saying, "This dress is worth another six months of work for you anyhow. --"

  Taking it in hand, it was a very old cloak. "Half a year? It's a loss for the entire continent's bandit community if you don't go and become a bandit real." Asa shook his head. Look at this thick, smelly, heavy, and dusty cloth. It was covered with traces of blood and other liquids that had solidified for an unknown amount of time and had fused with the texture of the cloth.

  Sandru's eyes bulged and he said, "This is a treasure I collected when I was young, it's very memorable."

  There was a sudden knock on the door of the great house.

  The very rhythmic three knocks showed the cultivation and temperament of the knocker. The not-so-light and not-so-heavy tones were just enough to be heard by the people inside, without being the least bit alarming. It was that even the most sensitive and moody owner would never feel abrupt about such a visit.

  To be able to walk here, one must know what kind of place this was. And to a room full of corpses, and an old man who was fiddling with the corpses and a cripple who was helping with the fiddling, who would knock on the door in such a courteous and genteel manner as if they were visiting an elegant hermit?

  Sandro also wanted to see what this polite one was and went to open the door himself. Asa hastened to put his mask back on.

  The door opened and a very dignified middle-aged gentleman stood outside.

  A slightly blonde physique characteristic of a middle-aged man with a good life, a very ornate and nice-looking sword that seemed like an ornament stuck in his waist, a set of tuxedo that suited him well, a bowler hat, a neatly trimmed beard, squinted eyes, and a gentle and courteous smile. This was indeed a gentleman who would knock politely at any door no matter what kind.

  This gentleman owed a bow and curtsied to Sandro with great poise, asking, "May I ask if you are old Mr. Sandro?"

  "Yes. I am." As if he was afraid that someone would suddenly pop up to dispute that title with him, Sandru hastily answered.

  "I am Duke Mrak." The fat, huffing, affable gentleman introduced himself. "Would you mind letting me in? I'm here to see someone."

  "Yes, yes, please come in, please come in." Like a hospitable host, Sandru was warm and generous enough to make an inviting gesture to invite the Duke into the large house, then pointed to the room full of corpses and organs. "There are many of them here, I wonder which one your Excellency the Duke is looking for?"

  "I'm looking for him." The Duke's one smiling eye had been falling on Asa, who had just about put the padded corpse cloth over his body, from the moment he entered. With a negative hand, he slowly walked toward Asa.

  Asa took a step back.

  He didn't know why he took a step back. This very polite and courteous gentleman had an appealing charm, and when he heard that he was the Duke, he felt the urge to go up and explain and ask questions. But for some reason, as soon as he saw the Duke coming towards him, he unconsciously took a step back.

  But it was only a step back and then he didn't move. The Duke slowly walked up to him, and as he looked at the Duke, who was half a head shorter than himself, he realized that he wasn't pretending to be a hunchback or a cripple.

  He should have faked it, he had gotten into the habit of automatically bending over and limping once he was in front of people these past two months. It was just that from the moment his eyes met the Duke's, all of his attention was drawn to him, and he completely forgot to keep his body in position.

  Not true. Asa immediately sensed that it wasn't that he had forgotten to maintain his body posture, but that his body itself had unconsciously transformed into a posture of total alertness. He was like a wild beast that smelled danger, and the muscles of his entire body entered a state of high sensitivity at the touch of a button.

  His spirit also entered the same empty state that he had been in during the past two months when he practiced meditation. Every subtle pulsation of his body's muscles was in his own grasp, and every ounce of air flow around his skin could be felt. He could even feel the magical power and spirit constantly condensing and flowing within his body, ready to burst out at any moment.

  Just now, he only retreated one step, not that he didn't feel the need to retreat, but he couldn't retreat anymore.

  Retreating further was the boundary. The boundaries of a beast chasing its prey.

  As long as he made another slight movement, this amiable-looking duke would immediately kill him with the swiftness of a panther and the ferocity of a lion.

  The duke's eyes seemed to pierce into Asa's eyes and then went straight to every detail of his body, taking in everything about him.

  The corner of the Duke's mouth pulled up into a smile. There were a few moments of approval, a few moments of regret, and a few moments of mockery. Very calmly, he said, "This young man saved my youngest daughter from a few bad guys last night. I know he also saved my eldest daughter two months ago, and I really wanted to thank him. However," the duke's right hand came out from behind his back. As if it were a casual gesture, the hand was placed on his belt next to the ornate, almost vulgar sword.

  Asa couldn't hear what the Duke was saying. All of his mind was on the Duke's right hand and the sword next to it.

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  There was no basis for it, but he did know that even if there was just a single charcoal in the shell of that ornate sword, the hand next to it could swing itself in two like a crispy carrot the moment it drew it out.

  All of Asa's physical and magical power had converged and focused, mixing with his spirit and fighting spirit to become a point of immediate explosion. Even if there was only a one in a million chance, he wanted his full power to explode before his head flew up.

  He had the illusion that he was still being chased in the lizard swamp, and that this chase had already come to an end, and he had no way out. That beastly fighting spirit and madness was fully revived in his heart.

  Asa did not move, his mood was even calm, completely immersed in the empty realm of meditation, but he himself could feel the wolf in the depths of his soul was revealing its sharp canine teeth and whistling furiously.

  Are you coming to kill me? Come on, come on, try to see if I'm good enough to kill.

  The smile at the corner of the Duke's mouth pulled deeper, the mockery in the approval sufficient. The white, neatly manicured hand had slid onto the hilt of the sword.

  "Oh? Heroic rescue, so valiantly ambiguous." Sandru suddenly said next to him in a strange voice. It was unknown when he had stood behind the Duke, and in his hand he was playing with a few dead man's teeth. This was his old habit, always holding a few dead people's things in his hand and squeezing them when he was fine.

  Asa saw the Duke's hand suddenly tense up, and a few veins on it grimaced, but he could feel that it wasn't murderous intent, but nervousness. The rhythm of the Duke's breathing suddenly went haywire, the gaze that had been locked on his own eyes also went slack, and that sense of urgency disappeared. Asa could even see that the Duke's eyes actually smelled of panic. As if a hunter who has been fully prepared to assassinate a fierce beast, is about to get up and move when he was suddenly stuffed with a large piece of ice in his pants.

  A few teeth made a kara-kara sound in Sandru's hand. Sandru's hands were pale. A lot of wrinkles, but also very white, so white that you can not even see a blood vessel and traces of sweat, a kind of white than the face of a dead person is still miserable. Even the sound of these teeth as they clattered against each other in his hand had this ominous pallor.

  The expression on the Duke's face did not change in the slightest. But it wasn't a smile anymore, it wasn't even an expression, it was just the face that had frozen down from the last moment. The muscles of the face were still the same, except that there was no longer any emotion, like a mechanical demonstration giving reference to what a 'smirk' was.

  The focus of the Duke's eyes was still on Asa's face. But Asa sensed that he wasn't looking at himself, but at Sandro, who he couldn't actually see at all, behind the station. Looking with his full attention. Just as he himself had just looked at the Duke.

  Now not only could he take a step back, but even if he danced, the Duke wouldn't react in the slightest. Asa felt like he had suddenly become a spectator.

  Asa did not move, the duke did not move, Sandro, except for his hand continued to fiddle with his teeth, also like a stone carving. The entire hall seemed to be frozen, not even time could continue to pass, only a few teeth hit each other, making a sound that you could tell was already dead.

  As if there was a century long, the Duke long breath, back to life, the gentle smile also resurfaced on his face.

  Caracalla's voice disappeared as well, and Sandro stopped fiddling with his teeth and staggered in front of the Duke.

  The Duke's gaze returned to Asa's face, which no longer had any discomfort in it, and asked, "What is this young man to the old gentleman?"

  "It is my assistant." Sandro dropped the tooth in his hand on the stone table.

  "Just an assistant?" The Duke frowned slightly, the smirk on his face not changing at all. "But I suspect that this aide of yours is very much involved in a very important matter and would like to bring him back."

  "No way." Sandro refused sternly. "Who will help me if he goes? Those bodies can be heavy."

  The Duke sighed, gave a smile that was not without regret, and said, "Then I'm sorry to interrupt." Owing a bow to Sandru, he turned and walked out of the great room, not forgetting to reclosing the door behind him.

  Asa's eyes swept across the table, noticing that the dead man's teeth on it, which Sandru had just put down, had taken a strange turn. It was by no means a change that teeth were supposed to have. Teeth weren't ice, or iron, or mud, so of course they wouldn't soften or dissolve. But these little things that had just been cara's just a moment before were slowly, like chewing maltose in the mouth, softening, being pulled out of shape by their own weight, gradually melting into a small puddle of strange liquid. Then the liquid quickly disappeared as well, only to erode a few fist-sized holes in the granite tabletop.

  Asa looked the old man in front of him over from head to toe as heavily as if he were looking at an egg that had just eaten a human being, nodded and said, "Thank you for saving me."

  "Of course I saved you." Sandro seemed as if he was surprised that he would ask that question as a matter of course. "You still owe me four years of work."

  Walking out of the great house Duke Mrak removed the bowler hat from his head, pulled out a hand towel, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Pegasus rushed back to the ducal palace.

  Clovis was waiting for him in his study, he had already found out where the Duke had gone from Chrissy and had probably guessed what was going on.

  He was about to open his mouth to ask, when the Duke said to him first, "Go back to the Holy Knights, and bring all of your small group of men, fully equipped."

  "Huh?" Clovis heard clearly but didn't understand. The Holy Knights were the elite of the elite in the entire empire** team. His squad of forty or so men had once killed a group of nearly a thousand infidels planning to take over a city.

  Instead of explaining, the Duke further ordered, "Remember, keep it quiet. And move fast."

  Inside the great house, Asa put on the cloak Sandru had just brought him and reverted back to the hunchbacked cripple. He was going to slip out of the city and out of the royal capital fast.

  The Duke had just said that, knowing that he was the one who saved his daughter, then the reason why the Duke wanted to kill him would definitely not be because of any misunderstanding.

  What exactly was the reason Asa didn't know, he only knew that since a duke wanted to kill himself by all means, the only way was to desperately run away. And he didn't want to involve anyone. He could see that Sandru was actually very powerful, but he also knew that even the most powerful had a limit. The Duke could mobilize a few hundred of the royal capital's close guards to come here and capture him, or thousands if a few hundred didn't work, or even send out the Holy Knights.

  He bowed to Sandru, "Thank you for letting me hide here for the past two months."

  Sandru stared at him, "You're not thinking of running, are you? You still owe me four years of work."

  Asa shrugged his shoulders and said helplessly, "I'll be sure to thank you later when I'm rich, right now I'll cause you trouble if I stay here."

  Sandro shook his head and said, "Trouble will always be trouble when you run away. There will still be some left for me. One should not go afraid of trouble, get rid of it, then there is no trouble"

  Asa smiled bitterly and walked towards the door. If he didn't run, then he wouldn't be able to think of any more trouble in the future. He was about to go to open the door when he suddenly heard a sound of horse hooves coming from far away.

  Asa's face changed and he turned around and lunged for the window, but Sandru raised his hand and waved it, saying, "Don't panic, the person who solves the trouble is coming."