“I…”
Abigail’s words left Ruby speechless, and she blushed. Ruby suddenly realized she was too naive.
Grudges and alliances often defied reason in the martial world-either kill or be killed.
If Luke intended to kill Abigail, then it was only natural for her to defend herself by retaliating against him. Her actions were justified.
Furthermore, as Abigail pointed out, those who acted solely for profit were hardly virtuous. Therefore, it was not worthwhile to advocate for justice on their behalf.
“Ruby, judging by your demeanor, you’re likely new to the martial world,” Abigail began. “Holding onto your good intentions is commendable, but you must choose your allies wisely. Blindly playing the role of a saint will only bring harm to yourself and others.”
She offered a knowing smile. “Let’s let bygones be bygones. There’s no need to let tension brew between us over strangers’ affairs. Come, let’s continue with our drinks.”
Then, she lifted her glass and nodded toward Ruby.
Ruby hesitated briefly before raising her glass and downing its contents.
As the tension dissipated after the brief commotion, the atmosphere in the tavern returned to its former merriment as if nothing had happened. Laughter and chatter resumed, accompanied by the clinking of glasses.
Meanwhile, members of the Mystic Arts Order swiftly cleaned up the aftermath outside the tavern.
With the streets littered with bodies and blood, they worked diligently to erase any traces of the night’s violence. Even if their actions were in self- defense, they had to ensure no lingering consequences.
For them, preserving their reputation and ensuring their gambling activities could continue uninterrupted was paramount.
As the night swiftly progressed to morning, the atmosphere at Sacred Wrym Summit remained lively.
Even, at this early hour, the venue buzzed with anticipation as crowds filled every available space. They were eagerly awaiting the start of the tournament.
To capitalize on profits, Abigail invested a significant sum to secure a prime spot. She had set up ten gambling tables to accommodate the growing number of gamblers.
With an extensive range of wagers available, covering everything from match outcomes to timing and fighting styles, the variety offered was unparalleled.
Additionally, she had arranged for crates of celestial stones to be delivered overnight from the Mystic Arts Order for the preparations.
In contrast to the trivial disputes on the previous day, Abigail appeared resolute to leave a lasting impression this time.
With tens of thousands of spectators, including elite members from various major sects, gathering at the Sacred Wrym Summit, there was ample opportunity for profit.
For Abigail, cultivating these potential gamblers would lead to untold wealth. She naturally had taken precautions just in case.
Sacred Wrym Summit had turned a blind eye to the gambling activities as long as they didn’t disrupt the tournaments.
This provided Abigail with the perfect environment to make a profit. Thus, her new round of harvesting commenced.
While Abigail busied herself with her schemes in the tournament venue, Dustin was not around. Rather than joining the crowd at Sacred Wrym Summit, he ventured alone to a secluded, unfamiliar location.
His decision was influenced by a letter he found slipped under his door that morning. The letter’s content was simple. It was a request for a private meeting.
Normally, Dustin would have dismissed such a request without much thought. However, this time was different.
The letter bore a peculiar mark-a distinct emblem of the Hall of Gods, West Lucozia’s archenemy.
Over the years, the Hall of Gods had been relentless in their efforts to sow discord and assassinate key figures within the palace. Their reason was to hinder Dragonmarsh’s development.
Dustin vividly recalled their audacious attempt to assassinate Rufus in Swinton, where they had even deployed the Four Gods and a God King.
Despite their failure on that occasion, the Hall of Gods persisted in their clandestine machinations. But their sudden appearance near Sacred Wrym Summit hinted at hidden agendas.
Dustin pondered why the Hall of Gods members sought him out before he had revealed his identity. To uncover the mystery, he reluctantly agreed to the meeting.
Following the instructions in the letter, he arrived at a private estate.
The sprawling mansion, adorned with opulent decorations, resembled a grand courtyard-style home, its imposing gates and intricate facade reflecting the wealth and influence of its owner.
He approached and rapped gently on the scarlet doors.
The door cracked open with a creak. A beautiful maid with an exotic air peered out, and she asked, “May I ask who you’re looking for?”
“I’ve been invited to a private meeting. “Dustin presented the emblem from the letter.
“Ah, a distinguished guest. Please, come in,” she said. She smiled as she swung the door wider and gestured for him to enter.
He nodded and entered without saying anything.
They walked through the garden and across a bridge adorned with faux rocks until they reached the entrance to the living room.
“Please wait here for a moment, sir. My master will join you shortly.” The maid offered a polite bow before excusing herself and leaving swiftly.
Dustin entered the living room and noticed it was already occupied by over a dozen individuals. The room was filled with men and women of diverse appearances that looked imposing.
It was clear that any of them could be an advanced-level divine martial artist, and some might even be grandmasters level.
“It appears I’m not the only one who received an invitation,” Dustin mused as he discreetly surveyed the room. He remained composed and chose to sit at the far end.
“Hey! Who the hell allowed you to sit there?”
Suddenly, a burly man with a thick beard rose abruptly. He slammed his hand onto the table and glared at Dustin menacingly.
