Chapter 71: Demon Hunter Tavern

"How many losses did you suffer? How strong are these puppets?" Fulade asked carefully.

In response to Fulade's question, Krus did not hide anything; after all, all the casualties were laid out here, clear at a glance.

"We lost over a dozen brothers, at least thirty people suffered injuries of varying severity," Krus said, pausing briefly before continuing:

"As for their strength, it should fall within the normal human range.

Only their hit‑for‑hit tactics caught us off guard, which is why we lost so many."

Fulade nodded and said nothing more.

He knew that the centaur tribe, after a hundred years of breeding, numbered less than twelve hundred.

Excluding the old and the young, regardless of gender, only about five hundred could be counted as combat‑capable.

Although Fulade thought that even the older centaurs possessed some ability, it could not change the fact that their numbers were scarce.

"When I return, then I will need to talk with you," he said.

As the words fell, Fulade sped toward the outside of the secret realm.

Krus watched the departing silhouette, a thoughtful expression appearing on his face.

Night.

Count Golog's domain, Vina Castle.

Looking at the cool, striking face below, whose cat‑like sharp eyes now showed a bewildered expression and a flushed, damp‑red complexion, was Amelia.

The stark contrast involuntarily stirred in Fulade a violent urge to ravage her.

However, at this moment Fulade was not eager to train her.

Instead, he gently stroked her sleek hair as a sign of encouragement.

Feeling the warmth from Fulade's palm, Amelia became even more moved.

At that moment, her wild eyes resembled a dog that had won Master's favor, wagging even more joyfully.

After a long while, a series of Woo— echoed.

Fulade released the obedient strands of hair in his hand, lifted Amelia's chin and said, "What's the story with that batch of puppet legions today?"

Amelia raised her alluring, hazy eyes and mumbled indistinctly:

"Guh‑re… Goo‑dong~ cough cough."

"Hoo~ Master, I actually have some information about those puppet legions."

Fulade asked curiously, "Oh, tell me."

Amelia rose, perched on Fulade's lap, and whispered:

"In the northern kingdoms, there is a Witch whose magic is potent; she can command a puppet legion to serve her. I think today's incident was caused by her."

"No one knows who she is, nor her appearance, nor where she comes from, yet I saw her today."

"Master, you could never guess her identity."

Seeing Amelia's eager expression, Fulade couldn't help but smile, "Speak quickly; if you satisfy me, I'll reward you properly later~!"

The final sentence was deliberately emphasized, causing Amelia to become noticeably shy.

Amelia instantly straightened up and muttered a few words softly by Fulade's ear.

Fulade nodded approvingly, giving a devilish grin, "Not bad, it seems I truly must reward you well."

As his words faded, strange sounds—half wailing, half joyous—began to echo through the castle chamber.

A trial against the female vampire officially commenced.

As dawn lightened, Amelia, dragging her exhausted, limp body, dressed Fulade, and, seemingly casually, whispered into his ear:

"Master, I have prepared a gift for you, but you'll only see it the next time you come."

Fulade nodded calmly, paying it little mind.

Turning back, he gently brushed Amelia's crimson cheek and said calmly, "Go rest, you've had a hard day," the warm hand touching her cheek and withdrawing instantly, though merely a fleeting, light comfort.

Yet it still warmed Amelia's heart, and her gaze toward Fulade grew even more affectionate.

Without further attending to Amelia, as he turned to leave, Fulade seemed to recall something: "Among the demon hunters you recruited, there must be a traitor, otherwise the Witch wouldn't have obtained precise information; you know what to do."

Fulade glanced back at Amelia, then turned and flew outward.

The northern realms, because many Witches, demon hunters and such creatures dwell here.

Thus the Holy Court's influence here is unusually weak.

Traveling onward, Fulade passed through Lyle Kingdom and arrived at Eldendal.

He heard and saw an overwhelming number of demon hunters.

Entering here was essentially stepping into the demon hunters' stronghold.

Although most demon hunters are just low‑grade beings barely beyond ordinary humans, their sheer numbers are undeniable.

The reason for this situation is that the north harbors too many supernal races and evil beings.

Here, especially merchants traveling between nations, for safety, hire demon hunters as escorts, thereby providing the hunters with ample livelihood.

Unlike the south, where the Holy Court's influence makes many supernal races relatively scarce or hidden in the shadows.

As Fulade pushed open the Demon Hunter Tavern's door, a noisy atmosphere rushed in.

The tavern was small, and even in daylight it appeared somewhat dim.

Torches and oil lamps flickered on the walls, and waitresses in revealing, low‑cut skirts moved back and forth among the drinkers, evading or teasing the sudden onslaught of salty‑pig hands.

Pulling back his hood, a face of aristocratic bearing was instantly revealed, drawing many curious glances.

"Boss, a mug of ale and a few plates of snacks," Fulade tossed a few silver coins and said to the proprietor.

At the same time, his gaze subtly examined the faintly magical badge the other wore.

Fulade knew it was a Demon Hunter insignia, a fairly practical magical item.

Such a badge isn't something any demon hunter can simply wear.

"Alright, sir, please wait a moment."

The owner paid no mind to Fulade's vague appraisal; instead, he responded in a booming voice, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

The owner's action seemed like a respectful address to Fulade, but its subtext was a warning to the tavern's demon hunters not to stir up trouble.

"Old fox." Fulade looked at the tavern owner who nodded and smiled at him, and returned a slight smile, accepting the gesture.

When the food and drink arrived, Fulade did not start eating; instead, he reached toward the demon hunters at the neighboring table and invited, "Friends, if you don't mind, let's share a table."

Facing Fulade's sudden invitation, the three at the next table were initially stunned, but the leading demon hunter glanced at the untouched dishes on the table and instantly understood.

"It's an honor, sir."

As soon as the words fell, the leader sat down.

After Fulade ordered three more mugs of ale, he finally asked, "What should I call you?"

Fulade looked at the bearded middle‑aged man opposite him, clad in black leather armor, a short blade and dagger at his waist; the other two wore similar outfits, though each wielded a different weapon.

"Sir, everyone calls me Viper Han Ke; you may just call me Han Ke," the bearded middle‑aged man said.

"Alright, Han Ke." Fulade raised his cup in salute, then curiously asked, "Has anything major happened in Ai Lun Dai Er lately?"

"Well, if you call it a major event, the king of Ai Lun Dai Er suddenly passed away," the middle‑aged man said, lowering his voice deliberately.

"But we think the matter isn't that simple."

Seeing the middle‑aged demon hunter pause deliberately, Fulade immediately understood and tossed a few silver coins over.

The middle‑aged demon hunter named Han Ke then continued.

(End of chapter)