As for the Gale Mercenary Group, it was a very famous mercenary group in this area.
More importantly, they had heard not long ago that the current leader of the Gale Mercenary Group had obtained the advancement knowledge for the Fifth Circle.
“Don't think about stalling for time. I've already made inquiries. The current leader of the Gale Mercenary Group is preparing to break through to the Fifth Circle right now, so he has no spare energy to come save you.”
The former Gale Mercenary Group actually had two Fourth Circles—Old Galen and the current leader.
Now, Old Galen's realm had fallen to only the Third Circle, the current leader was in closed-door cultivation to break through his realm, and the other members were all in the Third Circle.
In the realm of the Third Circle, the weathered man believed he had reached the absolute limit. He feared no other Third Circle.
“Guest, I think you've really found the wrong person. I'm just a bartender.”
Old Galen naturally would not hand over something like advancement knowledge.
But just as his words fell, the weathered man had already pulled his scimitar from the counter and slashed toward Old Galen's hand holding the wooden mug.
Bang!
Old Galen flipped the mug with a backhand and smashed it upward, the wooden mug colliding with the blade with a dull thud.
The wooden mug did nothing to block the strike; it was instantly shattered by the scimitar, sending splintered wooden debris flying toward the weathered man's face.
“Hmph!”
The magic power inside the weathered man's body surged, sweeping away the wooden splinters flying toward him.
Old Galen took advantage of this opening to dodge the slash, reaching under the bar to draw a greatsword.
Hum!
The massive greatsword, gleaming with a dark light, cleaved down toward his head. The weathered man retreated decisively as the greatsword crashed down, smashing the bar counter to pieces.
“It seems I'll have to capture and torture you to get the answers I want.”
The weathered man took a stance, drawing another scimitar with his other hand.
Although he believed he had no rivals in the Third Circle, he would not underestimate any opponent, let alone a Third Circle who had fallen from the Fourth Circle.
Thud!
The weathered man kicked off the ground with a powerful leap, turning into a sharp arrow as he charged toward Old Galen.
“Young man, you talk big.”
Old Galen lifted the greatsword with a single hand, bent his knees slightly, and leapt up, fiercely smashing down toward the weathered man below.
The moment the battle broke out in the tavern, the adventurers and mercenaries inside sensibly backed away toward the door.
If anything went wrong, they could flee at the first opportunity.
At this moment, aside from the two combatants and the patrons pushed back to the door, there was only one other person—also wearing a black hood—still sitting in a corner of the tavern, working away at the mutton on his plate.
Bang!
A loud crash rang out as Old Galen was sent flying backward, crashing into the tavern's liquor cabinet. Wine from the wooden barrels spilled all over the floor, utterly breaking the hearts of the adventurers and mercenaries watching the show from the doorway.
“Galen, you're old. Hand over the advancement knowledge, and I can let you go.”
The weathered man approached Old Galen with his twin scimitars, speaking down to him from above.
“Heh, in your dreams.”
Old Galen spat out a breath, his attitude remaining stubborn.
“Once I break your legs and arms and take you back to slowly torture you, you will speak.”
The weathered man was not angered by this. He stepped forward, stomped a foot onto Old Galen's stomach, and raised his scimitar to hack down at Old Galen's arm.
Swoosh!
Just then, the sound of rushing air cut through the room. Sensing danger approaching, the weathered man quickly dodged to the side. A sword, still in its sheath, grazed past his cheek and embedded itself deeply into the wall where the liquor cabinet had stood.
“Who's there!”
The weathered man spun around, his sinister eyes sweeping across the people in the tavern.
The adventurers and mercenaries who had been watching the spectacle were startled by his gaze and involuntarily took a step back.
After scanning the tavern, the weathered man's gaze quickly landed on the black-cloaked figure.
The black-cloaked figure took a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his mouth, stood up, and walked over to stand not far from the weathered man.
“Ronal, you sneaked into Baron Athos's home three months ago to steal the Fourth Circle advancement knowledge.”
“After being discovered, you killed three maids and a knight, then escaped from the Baron's mansion.”
“Now, you have been put on the Mercenary Guild's bounty board. Your head is worth fifty gold coins.”
Fifty gold coins. Hearing this number, the mercenaries in the tavern gasped, and their gazes toward Ronal grew burning hot.
“Are you a mercenary who wants the bounty too? Don't say I didn't warn you. More than one mercenary has come after me for that handsome reward, but in the end, they all just became my achievements.”
Although Ronal didn't know the exact strength of the black-cloaked figure, he could tell from the voice that it was a young man.
Being so young, how strong could he possibly be?
Ronal figured this was just another brat who had read too many legendary mercenary stories and foolishly ran out to play mercenary.
“Oh, by the way, a Fourth Circle mercenary once found me. Although I was no match for him, I still managed to escape completely unscathed.”
Ronal spoke in a rather boastful tone.
The eager looks of the surrounding mercenaries instantly cooled down. To be able to escape unscathed from a Fourth Circle mercenary, Ronal's strength was bound to be at the very peak of the Third Circle.
Looking at Old Galen lying on the ground, they all realized that while Ronal's bounty was tempting, it was not something they could even dream of claiming.
“I have no interest in the bounty. I am only interested in your head.”
The black-cloaked figure said, taking a step forward. In the next split second, his figure vanished.
Ronal's pupils contracted violently as he spun around to search for the black-cloaked figure.
But before he could catch sight of the figure, he suddenly felt a cold sensation at his neck.
Warm blood sprayed out, and Ronal's eyes widened to their limits.
“How... is... this... possible...”
Filled with utter unwillingness, Ronal finally collapsed into a pool of blood.
At the same time, Old Galen was equally shocked.
He looked at the longsword in the black-cloaked figure's hand, then turned his head to look at the sheath embedded in the wall.
Just now, the black-cloaked figure had first come over here to draw his sword, and then went back to slit Ronal's throat.
And all of this had happened in an instant. It was so fast that he hadn't even caught a trace of movement.
The black-cloaked figure slowly walked to Ronal's corpse, raised his sword to decapitate him with a single slash, and then pulled out a black bag to put Ronal's head inside.
After doing all this, the black-cloaked figure waved his hand, and the sheath embedded in the wall trembled a few times before flying back into his hand.
Sheathing the sword, the black-cloaked figure walked toward the exit of the tavern, carrying his sword in one hand and Ronal's head in the other.
The adventurers and mercenaries who had blocked the tavern entrance quickly scrambled to the side to clear a path for him.
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